Page 16 of Keeping Secrets

"I can’t stay," Willa said. "I just came by to pick Mac up. We’re meeting his parents in San Francisco for a late lunch."

"Baking extravaganza tomorrow?" Keely asked.

"Absolutely! I bought all of the ingredients from the recipes you sent me, and the kids went wild picking out sprinkles and stuff. They’re so excited."

"Awesome. I’ll see you then."

Willa walked past, arm in arm with Mac, and Travis realized that he had been standing next to the refreshments table with an empty cup in his hand for a long stretch of time, straining to hear Keely’s conversation without even being aware of what he was doing. He slammed the cup down, making the platters of food shake, and stalked away.

He passed a couple of young guys on his way back to the work site – high school students trying to puff up their college applications, or maybe students from the local community college earning credit for their mandatory volunteer work. They tended to stand around gossiping without doing much.

"I heard that he got mixed up with the mafia," one of them said.

The other made a raspberry-like sound. "There’s no mafia in Pelican Point."

"Not in Pelican Point, but close."

"No way. Probably just some small-time drug dealer. Deal went wrong, and the guy pushed him off the cliff."

"What about the knife wounds, though?"

"So there was a scuffle first."

Travis swallowed back the sour taste that rose in his throat. They were talking about Adam. Still. He was so tired of hearing people talk about it.

He hefted a sledge hammer and swung it through the air, sending it into a wall with a satisfying crash. He swung it again and again, relishing the impact that reverberated through his body at the sight of the crumbling plaster.

Nat was nearly on top of him by the time he heard her shouting.

"Travis! Drop the sledgehammer."

"Huh?" He turned to look at her, lowering the heavy tool.

"We were planning on keeping that wall." Her voice was a low growl.

Remorse hit him like a shockwave. "Oh no."

"Oh yes. What is going on with you?"

When he didn’t answer right away, she just waved her hand and shook her head.

"Get out of here, Travis. Come back when you’ve got your head on straight."

"I’m sorry, Nat."

"It’s fine. Go pull yourself together. You know where to find us."

He walked home in a daze, took a quick shower, and collapsed. He slept past sunset, catching up on some of the REM sleep he’d missed out on ever since the incident. It was past eight when he woke up, and he hurried to the bar.

The place was packed, and the only bartender on duty was a bit wild-eyed as he tried to keep up with it all. He gave Travis a quick, grateful look as he took his place behind the bar.

Usually Scot took the helm when things were this busy, but he was nowhere to be seen.

He worked double-speed to get them caught up on orders, filling pint glasses with both hands as he chatted with regulars on the other side of the bar. It was an immense relief to dive into the busyness of eight o’clock on a Friday night and leave his own worries at the door.

Or… almost. He felt normal enough to maintain a veneer of his usual charm. Below that, though, his worries still gnawed at his gut like rats.

As he worked, he spotted a few of the guys who used to come in every week and drink with Adam. They had always been an obnoxious group, loud and rowdy. Just seeing them put the hair up on the back of his neck, but he forced himself to stay moving and look away from the corner table that they had claimed.

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