Dylan unlocks the back door. Inside, the hallway is dark and shadowy. Paige uses her phone’s flashlight to scan the room. The alarm beeps, but Dylan presses four numbers into the keypad, and it goes silent. Ty moves to flip on the lights, but Dylan catches his arm. “No lights, dude. The rectory is right next door.”
“We’re so going to get caught,” Des says. “How did Aaron get that key? Did he steal it?”
“I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” Dylan jokes.
Paige elbows him. “Just tell her before she freaks out, okay.”
“One of Aaron’s friend’s older brothers volunteered here and duplicated the key. It and the alarm code got handed down to Aaron and his friends and then to me. I’m not naming any names.” Dylan leads them up the stairs, past the church offices, and into the choir loft.
Des’s family doesn’t go to church. Gram used to go to Catholic Mass on Christmas and Easter. But after the accident, Des thinks she sort of lost faith in God.
Des has been in this church before, though. The Kim family attends services here every Sunday. She was Em’s plus-one last spring when her brother Jacob got married, and she was here three summers ago for Em’s dad’s funeral. One summer in middle school, she even came here for church camp. It was mostly arts and crafts and some songs about Jesus, but she wanted to go because she wanted to go everywhere with Em.
Dylan is heading through the door at the back of the choir loft. It leads to a stairwell that winds up through the clock tower into the cupola. Dylan goes first, then Paige, then Ty, then Des. As they climb, the bells start to chime eleven. It’s loud. Loud enough that it vibrates through Des’s whole body. She’s glad when they reach the top.
The cupola, with its white arches and domed roof, is the tallest point in town. There aren’t exactly any skyscrapers in Remington Hollow. Up here, Des can see the whole town spread out before her: the marina, with the sailboats bobbing in the dark water; blocks full of colorful Victorian houses and green lawns to the east; the shops and restaurants that make up the little business district to the west. She gazes out over the town, and she feels curiously disappointed.
From up here, Remington Hollow looks so small.
Chapter Eighteen
BEA
“Okay, I’ll email the minutes from tonight’s meeting with everyone’s to-do lists. Don’t forget to get your money for supplies to Sierra. Thanks for coming, everyone!” Bea says.
The raft team—Bea; Erik; Chloe; Erik’s tennis doubles partner, Drew Bishop; Drew’s girlfriend, Faith Ellinghaus, who was the layout editor for the yearbook; and class treasurer Sierra Alvarez—is finishing up its meeting. It’s a gorgeous evening, sunny and mid-eighties, and Chloe insisted on moving from the Daily Grind to Bishop Park.
“I’ve got to get home for dinner.” Erik stands and stretches and cracks his neck.
Bea winces. She hates that sound. But as she peers at him, worry pierces her heart. There are dark circles under his blue eyes, and a slump to his shoulders. He looks almost as exhausted as she feels. She touches his forearm. “You look tired.”
Erik shrugs, grabbing his messenger bag. “Early morning.” He’s interning this summer for his uncle’s law firm. “Text you later?”
“Okay.” She watches as he hurries away, falling into step beside Sierra. Part of her wants to hurry after him and beg him to talk to her. To find out whether he’s been feeling as out of sorts and anxious as she has. Whether he knows she’s unhappy, and whether he’s been unhappy too.
The other part of her is relieved it was so easy to extricate herself. It’s only seven thirty, and the evening is all hers. It stretches out before her, full of promise, and she finds herself looking down the river toward the marina.
“Hey,” Chloe says, sidling up to her. Drew and Faith have packed up and wandered off while Bea was daydreaming. “Is everything okay?”
“What? Yes,” Bea says automatically. “Why?”
“You seem a little distracted,” Chloe explains, pulling her long black hair into a bun. “The meeting ran late. Your meetings never run late.”
Bea’s shoulders stiffen. She was distracted. She feels guilty because she still hasn’t talked to Erik. She was going to—she absolutely was—last Wednesday, after the movie, but then she overheard Kat telling Erik how much she’ll miss him when he and Bea go to Georgetown. I’ll miss Bea too, I guess. But I’ve got more sisters. You’re my only brother. Well, almost, she’d teased. And Bea’s heart had broken a little.
For five years, Erik has been part of her family, acting like a big brother to Kat and Vi. He taught Kat how to play tennis and sees all her shows. He threatened to kick the ass of anyone who hassled Vi after she came out. He brought Gram flowers after her surgery.
Bea’s family adores Erik. She couldn’t help thinking that maybe they like him better than they like her. Bea knows she isn’t always very likable. She can be prickly. Self-centered. Selfish. If she broke up with him, would Kat and Vi be mad at her? Would they take his side?
“Is there somewhere you need to be?” Bea asks Chloe, her voice icy.
“I wasn’t criticizing you,” Chloe says. “I just meant…you seem a little off. I thought maybe…do you want to grab coffee?”
“With you?” Bea asks, surprised. They’ve known each other since kindergarten—been competing against one another for nearly as long—but they’ve never grabbed coffee. Not without some kind of group project or class assignment to work on. What is Chloe up to?
“Yeah, with me. I thought maybe we could hang out.”
Chloe smiles, and Bea feels bad that her first instinct was to be suspicious. She remembers Chloe hugging her at the farm party: We’re friends now, right? You beat me. You got valedictorian. But now we’ve graduated, so none of that matters anymore.
“You look like you could use a friend,” Chloe says.
Is she that obvious? That pathetic? “I’m fine.”
Chloe sighs and flops back down on her Burberry plaid blanket. “All right, maybe I could use a friend. We don’t have to have coffee. We can sit here and watch the boats.”
“Oh. Okay.” This is very new territory. Tentatively, Bea sits cross-legged on the blanket. “Um…how’s your internship going? You’re doing an internship this summer, right?”
“Yeah. With Dr. Holt at Remington Vet. She’s great.”
Bea recognizes the strained tone in Chloe’s voice, the way Chloe avoids her eyes. Something isn’t great.
“Is it weird not working at the inn?” she asks. Chloe’s parents run the most popular bed and breakfast in Remington Hollow. Her mom is the manager; her dad is the chef. Chloe’s worked there every summer, after school, and on weekends, except during tennis season. Like Bea, Chloe has always had a plan. She’s going to the University of Pennsylvania (the fifth-best undergraduate school of business in the country) to study business, and then she’ll come back to Remington Hollow and help her parents take the inn to the next level. Maybe even start a franchise in other cute touristy towns on the Eastern Shore.