property was still called Happiness Haven, an office had stood on this site, and the foundation was still visible to anyone who searched hard enough. Right where Dana intended to plant the rest of the annuals, there had been a garden, a perfect oval carved out of the sand between the road and the driveway up to the office, with a small “wishing pond,” a flourishing palm tree, coral and scarlet hibiscus, and clusters of zinnias and marigolds rimming the edges.
Although she had no intention of sharing her memories, Dana remembered exactly what the oval had looked like. She also remembered the pastel-painted houses, the playground, the cool depths of the stuccoed, red-roofed office with its soda machine and pamphlet rack detailing wondrous destinations like Cypress Gardens, Weeki Wachee Springs and Gatorland.
No traces of the palm tree or pond remained, and the driveway to the office was barely visible. A few scraggly shrubs hung on, despite weeds that were taller and in better condition.
Dana had wondered if she had the physical strength to clear the whole bed without a chain saw, but once she began, she was pleasantly surprised to find it wasn’t as hard as she’d expected.
Half an hour later she stood to stretch. She was making headway, but slowly. Another half hour and she would have cleared enough room to plant, but she needed a break. She strolled to the office site and examined the debris. A few broken cinder blocks lay beside chunks of concrete. The demolition team had removed almost everything else, which Dana was glad to see. If Lizzie arrived with her metal detector—and she certainly would—she wouldn’t have to contend with broken glass or roofing nails. Dana circled the perimeter, just visible because of the gravel base that had once cradled the concrete foundation and deeper pockets of concrete that had surrounded the borders.
The site looked untouched, as if once the office was demolished no one had given it another thought. Perhaps, until she had come with tools in hand today, no one had. Perhaps her memories of this welcoming place, where guests had come to buy Grape Nehi and chat, were the only memories that survived. She wished she knew.
She had just completed her examination when a dark SUV passed on the road leading to the cottages and, eventually, to the point at the end of the key. As she watched, the car slowed, then stopped at Alice’s house. She frowned and shaded her eyes. A tall figure unfolded from the driver’s seat, clearly a man by his height and the breadth of his shoulders. He stood without closing the door and spoke to a woman who had intercepted him. She thought it was Tracy, although at this distance, with most of her body shielded, Dana couldn’t be sure. As she watched, the man shut the door, and the two started up the path to Alice’s.
For a moment the world went dark. Lizzie might be in that house, and a strange man was on his way inside. This could be perfectly innocent. The man could be a friend of Alice’s; he might be there to read a meter or take a survey. Maybe he was just asking for directions and needed Alice’s advice.
Or maybe her worst fears had finally come true.
Dana started up the road to see, leaving her tools in a heap behind her.
Once upon a time, Tracy had routinely apologized for CJ. If he forgot a name, an appointment, a charity banquet, she apologized. If he didn’t want to attend her mother’s cocktail parties or a childhood friend’s wedding, she invented reasons. If he refused social engagements because no one he needed to shmooze was on the guest list, she went into action.
Today, she made no excuses. In fact, she skewered her ex with enthusiasm.
“I’m sorry,” she told Pete Knight, as they started up the path to Alice’s door. “He was supposed to be here half an hour ago, but CJ’s as reliable as a tornado. You never know where he’s going to touch down or how much damage he’ll do.”
Pete didn’t look annoyed. He was dressed like a laid-back guy, in khaki shorts and a navy T-shirt. He shrugged and didn’t even glance at his watch. “You’ve got his list. I can look around on my own.”
“First we’d better introduce you to the other women. Otherwise they’ll be freaked when you start scratching in their yards and peeking in their windows.”