The mansions that lined the Pointe’s pristine beaches grew larger as the boat sped toward them. Some were classic shingle style, others starkly modern, but all were empty palaces. The kings who’d built them didn’t rule countries. They ran pharmaceutical companies or data-mining operations disguised as social media. Millions of subjects paid them tribute each month, but few people even knew their names.
“I read a book about the history of this area,” Harriett said. “Did you know there’s a story behind the name Culling Pointe?” She looked over at the others, who all shook their heads. “Back in the sixteen hundreds, the English attempted to start a colony here. They massacred most of the island’s native people and built a fort where Mattauk sits. Then one day a couple of colonists were hunting in the woods when they spotted a pair of deer walking around on their hind legs. The people who’d lived on the island for centuries could have told them that wasn’t unusual. The animals had learned how to reach fruit that grew in the trees. But the Europeans believed the deer were possessed by Satan. So they killed all the creatures and dumped their carcasses in the ocean. When they finished, they blamed the local midwife for inviting the devil to town and hanged her as a witch. She had her revenge the following winter when all but two of the colonists starved to death.”
“People were barbaric back in those days,” Celeste said.
“We haven’t changed,” Harriett said. “We just smell a bit better.”
“Have you been out to the Pointe?” Jo asked.
“As a matter of fact, I used to go once every summer,” Harriett said. “My ex-husband does the advertising for Little Pigs BBQ. The CEO of the company is a man named Jackson Dunn. He has a house on the Pointe, and he invites all his favorite toadies out for a big bash every Memorial Day.”
“I’ve heard about that party,” Celeste said. “Andrew says people would kill for an invite.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised if someone already has,” Harriett said. “Jackson’s neighbors are all billionaires and CEOs. If you’re looking for clients or investors, that’s where you want to be. A lot of deals get made at that party. That’s how they recruit for their club.”
“I always knew there were plenty of rich folks around here, but billionaires? Five miles away from my little white house?” Nessa couldn’t quite believe it.
“The Pointe may be five miles away by map, but it’s really a parallel universe,” Harriett said. “It doesn’t belong to our world. The people who live there look normal, but they’re not like the rest of us. They hand off all of life’s unpleasantness to others, and everything they want magically appears. After a while, it changes them. More than anything, it changes how they see us.”
“Look over there. I think that’s our drone pilot.” Celeste was pointing at a tiny man standing at the end of a dock.
Jo checked him out through a pair of binoculars that Celeste kept in the boat’s cockpit. She guessed he might be in his mid-fifties. He was wearing a pair of old khakis and a denim shirt rolled up to his elbows. He must have seen they were heading his way because he offered a friendly wave. Jo passed the binoculars to Nessa and didn’t wave back.
“He seems normal,” she said. “Kind of cute in a rumpled way.”
“He reminds me of my high school math teacher,” Nessa added.
As they drew closer, their assessment didn’t change. He looked like the sort of man who owned several tweed jackets and knew how to pick a good cheese.
“Hello there!” he called out. “So sorry for dive-bombing you back there. I just got this drone and I’m still getting used to the controls. I thought I’d have more time to practice. The whales don’t usually arrive in these waters until later in the season.”
“You were whale watching?” Jo asked.
“Yeah, my girlfriend and I are just out for the day. She’s organizing a party for one of the residents, and I thought I’d try out my new drone. I had no idea I’d get lucky. How’d you know the whales would be out there today?”
Nessa hugged her sketchbook to her chest. He thought they’d been whale watching, too.
“I didn’t,” Celeste said. “I told them it was too early for whales, but they proved me wrong.”
“We got lucky,” Jo said.
“Did we?” Harriett asked with a grin.
That evening, the sun was heading toward the horizon when Jo turned onto Woodland Drive. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard, which read 6:33, and goosed the gas. She and Nessa needed to drop off Harriett and get to the Stop & Shop by seven to meet Amber Welsh.
As they approached Harriett’s house, Jo brought the car to a crawl again.
“There’s a hobo sitting on your front porch,” Nessa said.
“Really?” For a moment, Harriett was curious. The moment didn’t last long. “That’s just Chase,” she said, disappointed.
“Chase?” Nessa asked.
“My ex-husband.”
“Holy shit,” Jo said. “We were just talking about him. Did you—”
“Summon him? No. I have a feeling he’s here about a fungus. I meant to mail him the treatment a few months ago. I must have forgotten. Silly me.”
“Are you going to be okay?” Jo asked. “Do you need backup?”
“Backup?” Harriett laughed. “If it came to combat, who would you put your money on—the hobo or me?”
“Don’t murder him,” Nessa said in response. “The three of us have too much work to do.”
“I have no intention of killing him,” Harriett assured her. “That urge passed a long time ago.”
She slipped out of the back seat and made her way up the drive. The salt air and wind had blown her hair into a terrifying tangle of silver and gold that made her appear impossibly tall, Nessa thought, like the statue of a goddess come to life.
Chase rose to greet her, and Harriett drank in his surprise. In the months since they’d seen each other, he seemed to have shriveled while she had grown. Chase’s beard had gone bushy and his pants looked like he’d slept in them more than once. Still, she experienced a pang, like a spasm in an organ that had been removed or a cramp in a phantom limb. It faded quickly, and she knew that was the last pain of its kind she would feel. A woman much like her had once loved a man who looked like him. Neither of those people existed anymore.
“I like what you’ve done with the place,” he lied awkwardly. Honesty had never been Chase’s strong suit.
“I don’t need you to flatter me,” Harriett replied. “I’m very content with my surroundings.”
“You know, if you didn’t like the landscaping, you could have just said so.”
“I did say so,” Harriett told him, without an ounce of bitterness in her voice. “Come inside, and you can have what you came for.”
She stepped past him and twisted the knob on the front door.