He raised a surprised eyebrow. “No way, Rob. Truth?”
“Truth.”
Alana nodded. “She told me about at least one of the cases. The guy in the ice?” She shivered. “That sounded like a nightmare.”
“It kind of was,” I agreed. “Small-town life isn’t always the quiet, cozy existence people think it must be.”
“Even here in paradise”—Jason gestured to the rose-colored clouds and white sand outside the doors—“we aren’t immune to crime.”
I shook my head slowly. “No, I bet you aren’t.”
Chapter 2
The buffet food was way better than I’d expected. The chef presented a creamy lime-chili-cilantro treatment on the halibut, a light Asian dressing on a soba noodle salad studded with slivers of colorful vegetables, and flaky empanadas with a cheesy chicken filling. A perfectly Californian meal. The wines were from Los Olivos and the bartender also had two taps from the Telegraph Brewing Company on offer.
As we ate, Jason, Alana, and I caught up with several other classmates at our table, all of whom had stayed in the area. Nobody had brought spouses or significant others, and only one had started a family.
When Alana used her left hand to lift her wineglass, I caught a flash of starlight. “Give me that hand,” I demanded.
She blushed and extended it, the fourth finger of which was adorned with a fat diamond on a slender gold band.
“When?” I asked in mock anger. “Who? And how didn’t I know this?”
“Hey, it’s not like I’ve had a chance to tell you,” Alana said. “His name is Antonio Lacambria, we work together, and we don’t have a date yet.” Her smile was sweeter than homemade peach ice cream. “He only asked me a couple of weeks ago.”
“Congratulations, Al,” I said with a stupid grin. “I’m really happy for you. Is he Italian?”
“Yes. His parents are Jews from Rome, but Antonio was born in San Francisco.”
“Your marriage linen monogram will be perfect for both of you,” I said. “A–L.”
“Not that we’re the monogram type,” Alana scoffed. “But yeah, we happen to share initials. Kind of perfect, in my mind.”
Jason lifted his drink. “To Mrs. Al.”
The three of us clinked glasses and our classmates across the table raised theirs, too. Alana gave us more details about her freshly minted fiancé for a few minutes while we dined.
Katherine, making the rounds greeting each table, approached us. “How’s everything, kids?” A cloud of perfume came with her, way too strong for my taste.
“The food is outstanding,” I began.
“Thank you. I selected the city’s hottest young chef.”
Jason cleared his throat. “Katherine, I thought the committee did the selection.”
She lifted her chin and waved away his correction. “Of course, of course. Robbie, I expect you don’t get much of interest to eat back there in Ohio.”
My new mantra seemed to be geographical correction. “It’s Indiana. And we happen to have some excellent chefs in the area.”
“Robbie’s a chef, herself,” Jason said.
“I heard you were a short-order cook.” Katherine pushed a strand of hair lightly off her temple with a ring-free left hand.
I smiled at her. How else to defuse this grudge she’d apparently been harboring for more than a decade? I didn’t care what she thought of me. I was happy and supporting myself doing what I loved. “And what do you do?”
“I run a wedding planning company. We handle all the details, right down to the bridesmaids’ shoes.”
Alana regarded her. “You’d be good at that stuff.”
“I enjoy it,” Katherine said. “You still burying yourself in a lab, Alana?”
“Quite happily so, yes.” She tilted her head and gave Katherine a little smile. “You didn’t much care for lab classes, did you?”
I shot a glance at Alana. I knew what she meant. She’d been paired with Katherine for an experiment in biology class once, and had reported back that Katherine hadn’t done any of the work.
“No, I didn’t.” Katherine blinked. “So why didn’t your buddy Zoe show tonight, Robbie?”
Right. I hadn’t spotted my childhood friend Zoe Stover here. “I haven’t seen her in years, Katherine. I have no idea why she didn’t come.”
Katherine rolled her eyes a touch, as if she didn’t believe me.
“She didn’t register for the reunion?” I asked.
Katherine shook her head.
“Do you still play beach volleyball?” Alana asked her. “You were pretty competitive at that, as I recall.”
“Still am. Our team wins nearly every game.” Katherine mimed a serve, making the muscles in her tanned bare upper arm stand out. “We have pickup games every Friday, if any of you are interested.”
I certainly wasn’t. Get into a game I’d never been good at with someone who preferred to win? Not for me.
Katherine gazed at the others at the table. “If any of you need my services, you know where to find me. Enjoy the evening.” She headed for the next table.
“Didn’t she marry Bill Lombard?” Jason asked the group. “I wouldn’t think she’d be the type not to change her name.”
The woman next to him, a former cheerleader, leaned closer. “She did, with a wedding straight out of central casting and several hundred guests. But the marriage only lasted a year. She dropped Bill’s name like a ghost chile and went back to Daddy’s.”
The strum of an electric guitar caught everybody’s attention. “Good evening, Chumashers! Ready for some music?” The guitarist and his four fellow musicians had been in a garage band in high school, and it looked like they were having a reunion themselves. “We’re the Boffo Barnacles and we’re going to entice you onto the dance floor. Get set to pull out your best high school moves.”
They launched into a song by Katy Perry.
“My best high school moves were standing with my back to the wall watching everybody else dance.” Jason laughed, shaking his head.
“Mine was not even going to the dances,” I said.
“Come on, Rob.” He stood. “Let’s give it a try, anyway.”
“Sure. I’m way beyond caring what anybody thinks of my dance style.”
Jason and I danced most of the next hour, with Alana joining us for a
