“Miss Bailey?”


    The Pacific Ocean rolled around the island, huge and silent. The work truck slowed to a stop.


    “Are we there?”


    “I’m afraid I’ve told you a lie, maybe two lies.”


    White foam churned into the nooks and crannies of the coastline. Gunther looked out the windshield.


    “Glad I reserved judgement,” I said. “I still have it in reserve.”


    “I don’t work for Pamela Adams.” He turned to look at me.


    The water sank its icy fangs into the bare, black rocks.


    “Okay,” I said. “I can live with that. I do work for Pamela Adams. What’s the second lie, Gunther?”


    “Miss Adams can’t hire you.”


    “She already hired me.”


    “She offered you a job, sure.”


    “You picked me up at the airport and drove me all this way just to…?”


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    “You’ll need another job.”


    “I don’t understand. Are you trying to hire me? I’m not interested.”


    “No, I’m not offering to hire you.”


    “Then what are you doing?”


    “I used to work for Miss Adams—”


    “Ok. That explains your rude commentary about my employment. Feeling bitter about it?”


    “Certainly.”


    “Not too bitter to drive me here.”


    Gunther growled. “Maybe I should write a book too, in all my free time.”


    “That’s only for unemployed journalists. Gunther, you know I quit my job to come here? Left my friends behind?”


    “You have many friends in Boston, Miss Bailey?”


    “I’m going to miss my shitty neighbors, anyway. Strat cat who lived on our fire escape. The termites.”


    “She’s dead.”


    “But don’t worry about me. I have, say, $300 in my checking account. What?”


    “Pamela Adams is dead.”


    “Oh.”


    Gunther unbuckled, opened his door, and got out. A moment later he opened my door.


    “Get out.”


    I did.


    I breathed in deep. The wind perfumed us with accents of the sea. Gulls cried overhead.


    “Why did you bring me here?”


    He sighed. Then he shrugged. “I don’t know.”


    “You don’t.”


    “I just figured since you flew all this way… you should see her daughter.”


    “She had a daughter? What’s her name?”


    “Tammy.”


    “Is she here?”


    “Yeah. And she would like to know what happened to her mother.”