Yeah. Like, right there. The boat literally hit the pier right underneath me.”

“I can’t believe you were there.” Colton’s crash is the biggest thing to happen in Longview in years. “Are you—I mean obviously you’re okay.”

“Just a few scrapes.”

“Holy shit. Did you see anything with Colton?”

“Was he the one piloting the boat?” she asks.

“Yeah. Did you not know?”

She shakes her head. “I saw him jump out before it crashed. Then he swam to another boat—”

“Wait. Time out. Colton died in the crash.”

“What?” Her face pales.

“He died on impact.”

“No. He didn’t. He jumped out.”

“Sorry Bobby…but he’s definitely dead. Have you not—I mean you were there. How do you not know?”

Bobby blanches. “I-I ran, after it happened. But before, I saw him jump out of the boat.”

I shake my head. “It’s been all over the news.”

“I don’t watch the news. My parents…I don’t know. I didn’t tell them I was there, and I guess either they didn’t hear about it or they didn’t mention it. But—but there was definitely a second boat. And he was fine. I literally saw him swimming over to it.”

“He’s not fine.”

Bobby swipes her phone. “I want to see this.”

While she reads the story, I try to figure out what about this is bothering me. Something. Like an annoying fly that you can’t quite swat. If what Bobby says is true…

“How sure are you that you saw him swimming? Could he have been floating?”

She shakes her head. “No way. He was swimming. That much I know for sure. He was alive.” Her voice is filled with drear. “I—the boat. The second boat. It put a spotlight on him in the water. And then it turned the spotlight on me.”

Everything clicks into place when I realize who’s walking across the sand toward us.

“I got a really bad feeling, so I ran away,” Bobby continues.

Oscar. Wearing knit shorts and a black polo. Walking this way with one if his boys.

“Bobby be cool, act natural, don’t tell Oscar you were at the pier.”

She follows my gaze.

“Colton made meth,” I say quickly. “Lots of it. Oscar’s been trying to talk to me since yesterday.”

Bobby gasps.

“Take a deep breath. A couple. Slowly. Before Oscar gets here. Be cool.”

I wave to Oscar and turn to Bobby. “I don’t know if there’s a connection,” I murmur so Oscar can’t hear. “Colton made meth. That’s not Oscar’s game. Maybe this is all in my head. Or maybe he wants to diversify?”

“He’s right there,” Bobby hisses.

“Tripp Anders.” Oscar says from the bottom of the ramp. His associate, who I do not recognize, is waiting about ten yards from his boss. “You’re a difficult man to track down.” He’s smiling behind aviators. “Your office manager told me I could find you here.”

I smile back. “Oscar. “ He reaches the deck, and we clasp hands. “Sorry. I’ve been busting my ass with these swimsuits, but I was going to call you after work.”

“It’s fine.” He turns to Bobby. “I remember you. We met at The Downtown Spaghetti Shoppe. Bobby, right?”

She nods. “Nice to see you again.”

“I didn’t know you were a lifeguard.”

“A new recruit,” I say. “I finally convinced her to serve her country.”

Bobby smiles. “He’s very convincing.”

“The stories I could tell you about this one,” Oscar says, laughing. Not what I need right now bro. “Tripp, can I talk to you for a minute? In private?”

“Yeah. Bobby, can you…step inside the tower for a few?”

She does, and Oscar leans against the rail and looks out at the water. Finally, he turns to me, his face the picture of weariness. “Let me get to the point: you heard about the death of Colton Dalton?”

I nod. “Yeah. Terrible shit.”

“I think it could be worse than just an accident.”

He’s watching me closely. I shake my head, and try to imagine how confused I would be if I hadn’t just heard Bobby’s story. Pretty confused, I think. I screw my mouth into a puzzled frown. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure. Colton was a friend of mine. He mentioned, before his passing, that he was in some kind of trouble with some bad people.”

I can feel Oscar’s eyes behind his shades, intently peering at me. “I wish I could help you, man, but I don’t know.”

He shrugs. “You’re the most popular man in town. Maybe someone heard something, or saw something.” He lets that hang in the air for a moment. “A friend. A friend of a friend. Maybe an employee.”

“They haven’t,” I tell him. “But I’ll be sure to text you if I hear something.”

“Call.” Oscar says. He smiles again. “I’ve got to go.” He sticks his head into the tower. “Nice to see you again, Bobby.”

“You too,” she says as she steps back onto the deck.

He stops beside his friend, who is looking pointedly in our direction.

“Oh shit Tripp, what do we do?” she murmurs, smiling for effect.

“I don’t know,” I say quietly. “Just—stay chill until he’s gone.”

Oscar doesn’t go. He stays talking to his friend. They both looks back at us several times.

The jig is obviously up. “Did you see anyone? On the second boat?” I ask her in a tone below a whisper. “Do you recognize that guy with Oscar?”

“No. I didn’t see anyone.”

“Who did you see in the water?”

“I don’t know. A man. That’s all I know.”

“Did you hear a gun shot or anything? Did you see anything?”

“No.” Her voice is squeaky. “I—I didn’t even see the crash, I just—I saw the boat coming at the pier, I saw the guy jump maybe ten or fifteen feet before it hit, and I turned to run. There was a crash, I fell down, and when I got back up, I looked into the water. I saw the second boat shine a spotlight on someone in the water. And then they turned it on me, and I split.”

“How did Oscar make the connection, though?” He’s on his phone now. His friend keeps glancing this way. “How did he know to come to me?”

“I was wearing my Hot Beach swimsuit.”

“Shit.”

“What do we do, Tripp? We should call the cops, right?”

“I don’t know.” I look to Oscar. He’s turning toward us. “He’s on his way back.”

“What do we do?”

“Just act natural.” Bobby does not look natural. “I bet this has changed your mind on the no sex thing, right?”

“What?”

“We’re in danger. Life is short. You know?”

“Are you insane?”

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood.”

Bobby hisses, “By telling me I’m in danger?”

I laugh, and it’s a real laugh. I guess I’ve learned something about myself: I laugh in the face of danger.

Oscar is not laughing. He’s walking up the ramp, his associate trailing behind him. His stare is emotionless. “We need to talk to, Bobby,” he says. “Just for a few minutes.”

I glance at Bobby, who has her arms crossed and is standing with a significant amount of poise. “What can I help you with?”

“Can we take a walk?”

“I’m at work.” She glances at me.

“She’s training,” I say.

Oscar holds his hands out, like he’s got nothing up his sleeves. “I only need a few minutes.”

I shake my head. “State regulations.”

“What do you want to talk about?” Bobby asks.

“I just want to talk.”

“Then talk.”

Oscar sighs. “It’s a private conversation.”

“I don’t mind having it in front of Tripp.”

Oscar shakes his head. “It’s not a conversation for Tripp. It’s a conversation for you, and for me. Carlos can stay with Tripp. How does that sound?”

“I didn’t see anything,” Bobby blurts, and—well, shit, I guess that’s that. “At the pier. It was dark, and I didn’t see anyone. Or anything.”

“She was at the pier when Colton Dalton crashed his boat,” I say by way of elaboration. “She didn’t see anything. She didn’t even know he died until I told her just now.”

“It was a tragedy,” Oscar says. “And as I was just telling Tripp, Colton was a dear friend of mine.

“I’m so sorry.” Bobby looks truly sorry. “Like I told Tripp, I didn’t see anything. The boat crashed, and I left because I was…well, I was pretty high,” she says in a confiding tone, “and I didn’t want to be there when the police showed up.”

“Okay. Okay.” Oscar holds a hand up. “Tripp, why didn’t you tell me about this?”

“I just told him,” Bobby says. “I overheard you from inside the hut.”

Oscar nods like it all make sense. “Thank you for telling me. It would be helpful to me, and his family, if you try to recall what happened in more detail. Can I take you out for a late lunch?”

“She can’t leave,” I say.

“Maybe you both can come.”

“We’re on duty.”

Oscar raises his eyebrows. “What if I’m not asking? Would the state hold it against you if you didn’t have a choice?”

“We have a choice, and it’s that we’re not going anywhere.”

Oscar raises his eyebrows and lifts his shirt, revealing a pistol tucked into his waistband. “Forgive me if my explanation is unnecessary, but you both seem like people who don’t know guns. So I’m going to explain to you how this works. This,” he motions with the gun, “is a Beretta 92FS. It’s loaded with—”

“Oscar I don’t give a fuck if you have a Glock 24/7 loaded with torpedoes, we’re not going anywhere with you.”

“That’s not a real gun,” Oscar says. He looks at Carlos, and I feel anger. Anger and adrenaline and fight-or-flight; I want to either punch this fucker in the face, or throw Bobby over my shoulder and run.

But I manage to calmly state the obvious: “You’re not going to shoot us on a crowded beach.”

If the point is to silence Bobby—and oh shit, Oscar really does want to kill her, and probably now me—Oscar’s not about to create…a dozen other witnesses. Damn. The beach actually isn’t that crowded. But still too crowded for this.

“I’m tempted,” Oscar says, looking around. When he looks back to us, he’s smiling. Warmly. “But obviously I’m not going to do that. I never intended to do that. Anyway. I just want to talk.”

“We’ve said all we have to say,” Bobby says.

Oscar continues to smile at us. Carlos is staring, too. No one is saying anything.

Fuck this. “You need to get out of here, man.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be.”

“This is Seaside Sings property, and I’m acting as their agent. The rules clearly state that no one but lifeguards are permitted on the lifeguard tower.” I point to the rules, which are posted on the front wall. “Leave.”

Oscar looks at me, and then at Bobby, and then at his phone, and then at me again. “Life never works the way you want it.”

“What?”

“In a perfect world, my phone would ring right now, and I would have answered it.”

I have no idea what the fuck that means. “Get off the tower.”

“No.”

Oscar stares at me, and I stare back. His gun is still visible, and I’m sure Carlos is hot, too. I don’t think they’d shoot us on the beach, but I’m not sure how I can get them off the tower, much less get me and Bobby out of here.

Bobby breaks the silence. “I’m calling the cops.”

“No you aren’t,” Oscar says, and Carlos steps forward, gun in hand. He’s holding it down, to conceal it, but his finger is on the trigger. “Seems we have a standoff. You are correct: I don’t want to shoot you on this beach. But I also can’t let you call the police.”

“Call the police because you won’t leave the tower,” Bobby says. “Not because of…any other reason.”

“I can’t take that chance.”

“We’re not going anywhere with you,” I tell him.

Oscar nods. “I know that’s how you feel, but let’s see if anything changes your mind.”

He looks at Carlos expectantly. Then back at me.

“It’s not going to.”

Oscar sighs. “What is taking them so—” His phone rings. He smiles. “One second.” He answers, has a conversation in Spanish that I’m not fluent enough to understand, then hangs up the phone and says, “I have two men outside the building at 2100 Hastings Avenue—” That’s where Mom lives “—and two men down the block from 3550 Chester Boulevard.”

Bobby gasps. That’s her place.

“You’re not going to get our families involved,” I say.

“I already did.”

“They have nothing to do with this!” Bobby cries.

Oscar shrugs. “And yet they are in very real danger.”

“I’ll come with you,” Bobby says. “Just leave my parents alone.”

“Bobby he’s not going to hurt our parents.”

“I will,” Oscar says. “I’ve hurt a lot of people.”

“Tripp, I have to. This is all my fault—”

“It’s his fault,” I point to Oscar. “We aren’t going.”

“I’ll go,” Bobby says. “You can stay behind.”

“No way,” I say, at the same time Oscar says, “You’re both coming.”

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I care about Mom’s safety, and I care about Bobby’s parents, too, but I don’t think they’re in any real danger. And if we go with Oscar, we’re walking to our deaths. “Bobby, Oscar’s guys, if they are even real, aren’t going to bust into our parents’ homes in the middle of the day.”

“I promise you they will,” Oscar says.

“He’s going to kill us if we go with him!”

Oscar shakes his head. “I try to avoid bloodshed whenever I can.”

Bobby looks at Oscar, then at me. I look at Oscar. Oscar looks at Bobby. Oscar says, “Time’s up.”

He grabs Bobby’s arm and pulls her down the ramp. I lunge for Oscar’s neck, but Carlos is there. He pistol-whips me across the temple, and I fall to me knees. Fuck, that hurts.

I hear Bobby call my name, and Oscar say, “Don’t worry. He and Carlos will be right along.”