was one of the victims.
Once the moment of silence passed, Laura began to speak. Isla backed her way through the crowd until she stood near the rear. The sun dappled lightly on her exposed shoulders, and she could feel the champagne going straight to her head. The only thing she’d eaten since lunch was a couple of those fancy scallops wrapped in bacon.
Near the front, she noticed a photographer snapping pictures. Isla stood on her toes and caught a look at him. He was a young guy with short black hair and was wearing a suit jacket with no tie. He had to work for the Coastal Times. She made a mental note to stay out of his way so she wouldn’t appear in Sunday’s society page.
“Can you believe this pretentious windbag? All they care about is fattening their own pockets at our expense,” whispered the server standing next to her. She turned and saw Martha Brooks from her church. She had four boys, and she and her husband worked round the clock to make ends meet.
“Oh, hi, Martha,” Isla said.
“Such bullshit.” She took Isla’s half-full glass of champagne and handed her a fresh one. “Here. Make it look like I’m busy. I’m not supposed to be talking to all the fancy guests, like you and Lady Windbag over there.”
“I’m still the same person, Martha.”
“Looks like you switched sides to me.”
“Samantha McCallister invited me to this event, and she refers a lot of clients to my salon.”
“It’s pathetic, if you ask me. One of their own is found dead, and here they are, drinking champagne and slurping down oysters like they’re M&M’s.” The woman appraised her. “Doesn’t being here make you feel dirty?”
“Does it make you?”
The woman appeared taken aback. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You’re profiting from this fund-raiser just as much as I am. Two kids are missing, and yet you still show up for work every day in order to provide for your family.”
“That’s different.”
“Really, Martha? Please inform me how it’s different.”
“This is my job. And those two missing kids are from the rich part of town.”
“Kids are kids no matter if they’re from the rich neighborhood or poor townies,” Isla said. “And don’t forget that my Katie went missing, as well.”
“None of this surprises me, you taking sides with these beauts. Can’t really blame you, either, after seeing Ray driving around town in that brand-new truck of his.”
“First off, it’s a used truck. And last I checked, people are still allowed to buy new vehicles in this country.”
“From running a seaweed business?” She laughed. “Please.”
“You should be careful about what you say, Martha.”
“Then I’ll say this. How much do you know about Chip Hicks?”
“The girls’ softball coach?”
“And ‘beloved’ social studies teacher.” She made quotation marks with her fingers.
“What’s to know? The girls love Coach Hicks.”
“Yeah, that’s what I heard. Go ask Emily Benson about how much he loves girls. And haven’t you ever wondered why such a good-looking guy like that never married?”
Isla watched the woman storm off with her empty tray of champagne glasses. Who was Emily Benson? Was she from the Benson family who owned the convenience store on the corner of Edwards and Pine?
The candidate running for council ended her speech, and thunderous applause went up. Isla tepidly clapped her wrist, her left hand gripping the glass. She wondered how long she’d have to stay at this function.
Some of her clients came over and thanked her profusely for the great job she did on their hair. Despite their status in life, she could tell they meant it. They complimented her on her outfit, especially the way she’d arranged her hair into that messy-bun style. Would she do that for them sometime? “Of course,” she responded. They invited her to sit with them, and she did, and she found herself enjoying all the attention and their company.
Did these women actually like her? Her self-esteem had been so beaten down in the past few years that she found it hard to believe that people might find her interesting and attractive. She blamed Ray for much of that. He’d made her continually question her self-worth. The more she conversed with these people, the more she realized that they shared many of the same problems in life: kids, marriage, friendships. In the greater scheme of things, they weren’t all that different from her. Sure, these women had gone to fancy colleges, had careers and money. If not for that predatory college professor, she might have ended up just