Saltwater Secrets - Cindy Callaghan Page 0,19

all unfolds, and none of those people are important to the conspiracy or the accident that brought me here in the first place. I know what it’s like to get in trouble for something that isn’t really your fault, and there’s no reason the Three Ts or Angie need to be identified.

I ask, “Any word from the hospital?”

“Nothing yet.” He adds, “I know you’re worried, but no news is usually better than bad news.”

I nod.

Santoro gets back to business. “What was Josie’s idea? Her idea to find out what all this was about?”

“She suggested we ask about part-time jobs at the Smoothie Factory. You know, talk to the people who work there, specifically the girls at the basement door that night, and see what they were doing.”

“Josie comes up with good ideas, huh?” he asks.

“Sure. But so do I, like with Meredith Maxwell,” I say. “That was me.”

Nineteen Stella

Boardwalk—Whalehead, New Jersey

June 20

“Murielle duPluie here with the Whalehead news from the Jersey Shore. If you’re on the boardwalk today, you’re going to want to stop in front of Kevin’s Fun House, where the biggest welcome sign ever is being constructed for none other than Meredith Maxwell. The project is led by her self-proclaimed number one fan, Cassandra Winterhalter. This girl is determined to get as many signatures on the sign as possible, so swing on by.”

“See ya,” Josie called to Dad as we headed out for the day.

“We’re going to put our names on the welcome sign,” I added.

Dad said, “Hold it right there.” He held out a ziplock bag of fresh-cut fruit for each of us. Then he kissed us each on the cheek, grabbed his tackle box, and headed out the door.

I asked, “No workout today?”

“I already did. I got a jump on the day while you two were sleeping.” He added, “Don’t forget sunscreen. By the way, we’ll be having company for dinner tomorrow night.”

“So soon?” Josie asked.

“You like her?” I asked.

“So soon?” Josie asked again.

“Girls!” He put his arms around both of us. “You are my number ones. Got it? It’s just dinner.”

“But—” Josie said.

“Seriously. We’re just eating food at the same place. People do it all the time.”

He hopped into his pickup truck and took off.

* * *

On our stroll to the boardwalk Josie asked, “It’s soon, isn’t it?”

“Maybe it really is just dinner.” My phone vibrated.

It was a text from TJ. So, Skee-Ball?

“You too?” Josie asked me, somehow knowing that it was TJ.

“It’s nothing,” I told her when we came to a section of boardwalk covered with gulls.

An old man sat on a park bench feeding them his breakfast muffin. It sounds cute, but trust me, it isn’t. The thing is, when you feed one seagull, others see, and they want to be fed too. And in no time, there’s a swarm of birds aggressively pushing for a breakfast muffin. Not a crumb, the whole muffin. People hate when this happens, but the old man loved the attention. He directed them: “One at a time.” “Don’t be pushy.” “Get to the back of the line.” The gulls didn’t follow the instructions.

We walked on the periphery of the muffin-eating flock.

In the distance we could see a crane setting up the new bungee ride on Murphy’s Pier. There hadn’t been a new attraction on the pier since the Minotaur was installed. There had been talk of a haunted mansion, but the city council chose bungee.

Josie popped a strawberry into her mouth. “So, first our Smoothie Factory inquiry and then snorkel, yeah?”

I went for a cantaloupe chunk. “Yup.”

* * *

We stood in front of the Smoothie Factory. “What now?” Josie asked.

I said, “Let’s go in and ask for an application.”

Josie looked at the pack of people waiting in line, blocking the door. “How’re we even gonna get inside?”

“We’ll have to wait,” I said.

“Ugh. I don’t want anyone to see me in this line. If I’m going to boycott, it has to look like a boycott.”

A girl in a white lab coat flattened herself between the doorjamb and the crowd, and wiggled herself outside. Once free from the store, she removed her lab coat and name tag.

Josie and I looked at each other, each with the same idea. We followed for a few beats; then Josie nudged me to say something.

I said, “Um, excuse me.”

The girl turned to see if I was talking to her. And as soon as I saw her face, I recognized her as the girl who had opened the basement door last night.

“Hi. Do you

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