the bar, the string of diamond earrings pulling at her earlobes. They were a gift from her mother a few Christmases ago. She pulled them out only for special occasions. If they were mine, I would have locked them in a safe for fear of losing such an expensive present.
She sipped from a martini glass and placed it on the bar, signaling the bartender for another round. He eyed her suspiciously but said nothing when she glared at him.
From working parties at the inn, I knew that look. He wondered if being fired over carding her would be worth her wrath. He made the better choice.
She saw us coming and tossed back the drink and handed the glass to her cousin. I think his name was Brad. I’d met him only once before. His leering expression, aimed at us, made me want to gag.
“I need to get out of here,” Kat said, brushing past us.
We followed her into the hallway. Several people offered her condolences on the way out and she politely greeted them. Kat’s pace picked up, her heels clacking against the marble floor. The three of us struggled to keep up with her.
She turned the corner onto a carpeted floor—my feet silently thanked her—and pushed her way into another room.
Inside was a sitting room with gaudy floral wallpaper. I assumed we were in an older part of the country club. Kat plopped down on a settee and draped her arm over her forehead.
I sat next to her and Rachael and Brittany sat on a smaller loveseat across the room.
“How’re you doing?” I asked.
“How do you think I’m doing?” Kat snapped. She sighed and dropped her arm. “This whole situation is a freakin’ drag. I wish this part would be over.”
“I know,” I said, and gave a look to the other girls to say something to Kat. If a situation didn’t involve heavy partying, they needed to be nudged.
“We should do something fun!” Brittany said. “To take your mind off everything.”
I cringed.
Kat’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “My brother is dead, Britt. This isn’t supposed to be fun.”
“I meant—”
“Just stop,” Kat said.
I touched Kat’s shoulder and she jumped up to standing. She crossed the room to the bank of mirrors on the wall. She dug into her clutch and pulled out a small pink tube, then smeared a new coat of gloss over her lips.
I gave the girls a look and both of them stood at the same time and rushed over to Kat. I quickly fell into step.
“I know I’m being a brat.” Kat placed her hands on the counter and looked at us through the mirror. “It’s just tough, you know? Joe may have been an annoying big brother but he was mine.”
“We understand,” Rachael said.
Kat rolled her eyes. “You don’t understand: you’re an only child.”
I sensed another freak-out. Kat always pushed us away when she was upset. It was one of her consistent traits, heightened this time by Joe’s death.
“I have to pee,” I blurted. “Kat?”
Kat grabbed my arm and pulled me into the attached bathroom and closed the door behind us.
I was surprised Rachael and Brittany picked up on the hint and stayed away.
I went into the first stall and sat.
Kat remained outside the stall facing the mirror behind the bank of sinks. “Only children don’t understand.”
A choked sob from Kat made me finish up more quickly.
I came out of the stall and washed my hands and gauged my friend—the ticking time bomb. Kat wasn’t the touchy-feely type, so I didn’t offer a hug. She needed emotional support and I would be there for her. A tiny thrill came over me that she hadn’t snapped at me yet. Having a sister put me on a higher pedestal in Kat’s current state of mind.
“I still don’t get it,” Kat said.
I grabbed several paper towels and dried my hands. “What do you mean?”
She turned to face me. “Joe going over the edge like that. I don’t get it.” I turned to the trash basket, avoiding her eyes. “Why didn’t you do more to stop him?”
I dropped the towels into the trash and slowly turned to face her. “What?”
“Everyone except my clueless parents knew he liked to party. But he’d have no reason to if you were a better girlfriend.”
I blinked a few times. This had to be some sort of joke.
Kat wasn’t smiling. Her eyes were clearer than I’d seen in days. Realization flooded me and a sick feeling pooled in my stomach.
She planned this conversation and I’d given her the perfect opportunity.
“Joe did what he wanted,” I said. “That’s not my fault.”
“You could have stopped him. He listened to you. You might as well have killed him yourself.”
“Kat, that’s—”
“Don’t act so surprised. He told me you’ve been avoiding him while I was away.”
I took a breath. “I needed a break.”
Her lips quirked. “And the truth comes out.”
“What truth?”
“I had a feeling you were only with him to get in good with us.”
“That’s ridiculous I—” I swallowed, unable to finish my sentence. For a second, I felt the same as Brittany and Rachael did several minutes ago with Kat’s cutting glare slicing me at the knees. I wanted to crawl under the sink until the reception was over.
Kat had a similar thought. “I think you should go.”
I didn’t have a response. It wasn’t until she left the room and I heard the door close that I knew I was no longer wanted.
It had been almost a week since I’d heard from Kat or the other girls. The fireworks had come and gone. I doubted Kat or the girls had attended. It was too soon for any type of celebration after Joe’s untimely death. I hadn’t been contacted by the detective, though I had nightmares that he lived in my house and continued his interrogation of me. I wasn’t sure why I was so freaked out by him. There was something off that I couldn’t put my finger on, though each day without hearing from him made me a little more able to move on from the horrific scene that replayed over and over in my head. Joe had been laid to rest and I’d find some way to repair the friendship with Kat and the girls.
It wasn’t the first time Kat had shut any of us out and encouraged the other two to do the same. Last fall, we closed out Rachael for several days after she spilled her chai latte on Kat’s shoes. Kat got over it, but I suspected this situation was so much worse. She managed to see right through me and I wondered how long she had been waiting to turn the tables on me like that. Taking extra hours at the inn filled my time while I waited for Kat to stop being mad at me.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” some guy drawled from Table 5.
“I’ll be right with you,” I said with a forced smile. I was helping the busboys turn over the tables for the guests while serving coffee refills. The portly customer had already had three refills in the last forty minutes, and the line for tables grew exponentially in that time.
I hoped for a big tip, but I doubted he even noticed his rudeness.
I offered the carafe of coffee to the man. “More coffee?”
“Yes, please.” His thick, white eyebrows