“She. She who?”
“Patricia something or other. Little girl who drowned out back like a hundred years ago. She was six, seven? I can’t remember her age. But when it storms you can hear her screaming, and every now and then, the lights in the house flicker, usually when she’s feeling playful—”
He halts abruptly as the light fixture over the kitchen island honest-to-God flickers.
Oh hell no.
Evan catches my alarm and grins. “See? She’s just teasing us. Don’t worry, princess. Patricia’s a nice ghost. Like Casper. If you want more details, I think the town library has some old newspaper articles about it.” He walks over to pat Daisy, who’s quieted down. “Good dog. You tell that little ghost girl.”
I make a mental note to visit the Avalon Bay library. I don’t really believe in ghosts, but I do like history, and now that I own a hotel here, I’m even more curious to learn about the history of this town.
“I’m gonna ride with you guys, if that’s cool?” Evan says, then wanders out of the kitchen before I can answer. I guess it was a rhetorical question.
Sighing, I stare at the empty doorway. I think there’s only one person I really need to “win over” at the moment, and that person is Cooper’s twin brother.
Cooper’s friend Chase has a split-level house in town with a massive yard backing onto a wooded area. The moment we get there, I’m slightly overwhelmed by the number of people. There’s a ton of them here. Inside playing beer pong. Outside around a fire pit. Music blasting. Raucous laughter. We make the rounds as Cooper makes the introductions. It’d be fun if I didn’t notice everyone staring at me. Meanwhile, an oblivious Cooper keeps one arm around my waist as he talks with his friends. Everywhere I look are side-eyes, over-the-shoulder glances, and conspicuous whispers. I don’t usually get self-conscious in social situations, but it’s hard not to when everyone is making it clear with their eyes that they think I don’t belong. It’s nerve-wracking. Suffocating.
I need more booze if I’m going to survive tonight.
“I’m going to get another drink,” I tell Cooper. He’d been chatting with a tattooed guy named Wyatt, who’s complaining about how his girlfriend won’t take him back. Nearby, a small crowd is watching a game of bikini-and-briefs Twister in the backyard.
“I’ll get it for you,” he offers. “What do you want?”
“No, it’s okay. Stay and chat. I’ll be right back.”
With that, I slip away before he can argue with me. I wind my way through the house and end up in the kitchen, where I find a lone, unopened bottle of red wine and decide it’s the least likely to give me a raging hangover in the morning.
“You’re Mackenzie, right?” asks a gorgeous girl with long hair and a dark complexion. She’s in a bikini halter top and high-waisted shorts, mixing a drink at the counter. “Cooper’s Mackenzie.”
“Yep, that’s me. Cooper’s Mackenzie.” It sounds like a ’70s cop drama or something.
“Sorry,” she says with a friendly smile. She puts a lid on the cocktail shaker and vigorously shakes it over her shoulder. “I just meant I’ve heard a lot about you from Coop. I’m Steph.”
“Oh! The goat girl?”
Her lips twitch. “I’m sorry—what?”
I laugh awkwardly. “Sorry, that was random. Cooper and Evan told me this story about rescuing a goat when they were preteens at the behest of their friend Steph. That was you?”
She bursts out laughing. “Oh my God. Yes. The Great Goat Robbery. Totally my idea.” She suddenly shakes her head. “Except did they tell you the part about abandoning the goat in the woods? Like, what the hell!”
“Right?” I exclaim. “That’s what I said! That poor thing totally got eaten by mountain lions or something.”
She snickers. “Well, we live in a seaside town, so maybe not mountain lions. Definitely got mauled by some predator, though.”
I set the wine bottle on the counter and open a drawer in search of a corkscrew.
Steph pours her concoction into two red cups then offers me one. “Leave the wine. That stuff’s terrible. Try this.” She pushes the drink at me. “Trust me. It’s good. Not too strong.”
No sense in offending the only person to speak to me all night. I take a sip and am pleasantly surprised by the slightly sweet taste of orange and botanicals.
“This is good. Really good. Thanks.”
“No problem. Don’t tell anyone where you got it,” she says, tapping the side of her nose. As if to say, if the cops raid the party and catch you underage drinking, don’t snitch on me. “I was hoping Cooper would decide to share you soon. We’ve all been anxious to meet you.”
“We?”
“Just, you know, the gang.”
“Right.”
Evan had also used that phrase. I wonder who else comprises this “gang.” Cooper and I haven’t done much in the getting-to-know-you realm this week. I mean, beyond anatomy.