Part four

B reakfast Monday morning. Mark pulled on gray sweats. He thought maybe he’d run on the sand along Long Beach this morning. Downstairs, he was surprised to find Lea already in the kitchen, coffee made, a stack of frozen waffles ready for the toaster.

She wore a short, sheer green beach cover‑up over a black one‑piece swimsuit. Her hair was tied loosely back with a green hair scrunchie. She turned and smiled as he entered the kitchen. When he walked over and picked up a white coffee mug from beside the coffeemaker, she raised her face to him and kissed him tenderly behind the ear.

The kiss sent a tingle down his neck. He turned with a smile. He rubbed her cheek with two fingers. “What was that for?”

“An apology,” she said. Her dark eyes stayed on his.

“Apology?”

“I’ve been.. sort of distant since I got home. I’m sorry.”

“I noticed,” he said. “The island?”

She turned to the counter, lifted her mug, and took a long sip of black coffee. “I.. I dream about it every night. Really. Every night.”

He took her by the shoulders. “I’m really sorry.”

“I hear those people screaming and crying. I see all those bodies. Bodies piled up everywhere. Parts of bodies. Houses all broken and destroyed. Will I ever get over it?”

“Sure, you will,” he said. Stupid, inadequate answer. He drew her close. He kissed her. Coffee breath, but he didn’t mind. “Maybe you should see someone. I know some doctors in the city you might feel comfortable with.”

She hesitated. “Maybe.”

He kissed her again. Then he pulled his head back and studied her. “The twins. Daniel and Samuel. Do they keep reminding you of all the horror you saw? Are they keeping you from pushing it from your mind?”

She raised a hand to his mouth. “Stop. Don’t even think it. You have to stop being so negative about them, Mark. I really care about them.”

“Sorry. As long as‑”

“I’m going to be better. I promise. I’m back. You’ll see. It’s just the shock of everything. Now that the travel blog is over, I‑”

“Are you sure you want to end it? I know you’re not a quitter. You came to New York with a goal and‑”

She lowered her eyes. Her hair fell over her face. “I’m not quitting. I’m just changing.”

“Well, at least you won’t be traveling. Nice if you’ll be home all the time.” He raised his hands to her cheeks and started to kiss her again. But a cough interrupted.

Elena appeared in the doorway. “Yuck. Are you two kissing this early in the morning?”

“No.” Mark lowered his hands from Lea’s shoulders and took a step back. “Well, maybe yes. So what if we were?”

Elena didn’t answer. She pulled open the fridge door. “Isn’t there any cranberry juice? You know I hate orange juice. No one here drinks orange juice. It’s too fattening. Why do you keep buying it?”

“So you’ll have something to complain about,” Mark said. “And hey, maybe I drink it? And maybe Axl drinks it too?”

She pulled out a yogurt container and closed the door. “Could you buy better juice? You know Ruth‑Ann is coming for our sleepover Friday night. Do we have to have this grocery‑store apple juice? Can’t you at least buy Martinelli’s?”

Mark laughed. “I had no idea juice was so important in your life.”

“Dad, do you think you could stop laughing at me just for a few minutes?”

That caught him by surprise. Was he teasing her too much? Fourteen‑year‑olds were so sensitive.

“Where’s your brother?” Lea said, pouring more coffee into her mug. “Is he getting dressed?”

“I don’t know.” Elena checked the date on the container bottom. Then she tugged off the top and started to stir the yogurt. “He wasn’t in his room. I thought he was down here.”

Lea blinked. “Not in his room? What do you mean?”

Elena stopped stirring. She scrunched up her face, as if concentrating. “You know, I think his bed was made. Like he hadn’t slept in it.”

“Huh?” Lea uttered a sharp cry. “Are you serious?”

“That’s impossible,” Mark said. “Go get him.”

“Can’t I finish my yogurt first?”

The kitchen door opened. Daniel and Samuel walked in. Mark squinted at them. They looked more disheveled than usual. Their hair hadn’t been brushed and stood up in white‑blond clumps over their heads. Daniel’s jeans had a stain in front. Samuel’s black T‑shirt was wrinkled, tucked in in front but hanging over his jeans in back.

“Morning, Mum and Pa,” Daniel murmured.

As they made their way toward the breakfast table, Mark and Lea gasped at the same time. “Whoa. What’s on your faces?”

Mark nearly did a coffee spit. Each boy had a two‑inch blue arrow, pointing up, on one cheek. “Hey, stop right there.” He set down the coffee mug before he spilled it.

“Those aren’t tattoos‑are they?” Lea demanded.

The twins giggled. “No. Just the face paint, don’t you know,” Daniel answered.

Elena stood gawking with her yogurt spoon halfway to her mouth. “You painted arrows on your cheeks?”

The boys nodded. Daniel’s wide grin made his dimples flare.

Mark reminded himself he needed to stay calm and not overreact. “But‑why?” He kept his voice low and steady. “What do they mean?”

“We’re going up, ” Daniel said, his grin not fading.

“We want to be cool,” Samuel added. He popped two waffles into the toaster and pushed them down.

“That is definitely not cool,” Mark said.

He stared at the arrows, so shiny and dark on the boys’ pale skin.

“Definitely not cool,” he repeated. “You have to go take them off. I can’t let you go to school like that.”

“But, Pa‑” Daniel started.

“He’s right. For once,” Elena said. “Not cool, guys. Actually, we’re talking freaky here.”

The grin finally faded from Daniel’s face and his blue eyes appeared to darken, as if a storm cloud had rolled over them. “We want to rule the school, Pa,” spoken in a low voice just above a whisper.

“We want to rule the school,” Samuel repeated.

Mark watched them both carefully. Daniel was always the leader. Samuel seemed to go along with everything Daniel said. He wondered about their birth order. Did Daniel come out first?

“I’m sorry, boys, but I can’t let you go to school with arrows on your faces. Mrs. Maloney will just send you home. You don’t want to get in trouble with her, do you?”

“She won’t be sending us home,” Daniel replied.

Such certainty, Mark thought. They seem meek a lot of the time, but then they show tremendous confidence.

His mind spun away from the issue at hand. Maybe they will make an interesting book. I could do it as a diary of their development as they adapt to a whole new world.

Lea had her arms wrapped tightly around the front of her beach wrap. She looked tense, but so far, she hadn’t said a word of protest.

They stood defiantly, eyes locked on Mark. Stone statues.

Elena couldn’t hide her surprise at their stubbornness. “You two are weird. ”

Lea pulled Mark to the back door. “You can’t win this fight,” she whispered. “Remember trying to get Ira to zip his coat in the freezing cold last winter? They get these ideas about what’s cool and what isn’t, and you can’t ever win those fights. Kids are stronger and crazier than we are.”

“Then what am I supposed to do?” he snapped, eyes on the twins. “Just do whatever they want? Is that really your policy? So far, you haven’t said no to them once.”

“Let them go to school. The other kids will let them know how dorky the arrows are. They’ll learn soon enough. From their peers.”

Mark shook his head unhappily. He shrugged. “Okay, I give up. I surrender.” He turned to Elena. “Where’s your brother? Go get him. He’s going to be late.”

Elena turned toward the hallway door and shouted. “Ira‑get down here. You’re going to be late!”

“Don’t shout. Go get him,” Mark snapped.

Elena groaned and pushed between the twins to get to the kitchen doorway. But the back door opened, and Ira came walking breezily in from outside. “Hey, what’s up?”

Mark couldn’t hide his surprise. “What were you doing in the backyard? Why weren’t you in your‑”

He stopped midsentence when he saw the blue arrow on Ira’s right cheek. “What the hell‑”

That made the twins giggle.

Mark rubbed his finger down Ira’s cheek. “No, Ira. No. No way.”

“I’m going to rule the school,” Ira said brightly.

Mark shook his head. “No. No arrow. Please. Tell me I’m dreaming this.”

“We’re going to rule the school,” Daniel repeated. He raised his palm, and Ira slapped him a high five.

“Go remove it. All three of you,” Mark insisted.

“Why weren’t you in your room?” Elena asked Ira.

He pointed to the twins. “I’m living with them now.”

Mark’s breath caught in his throat. “You’re what? You’re giving up your room?”

Lea: “When did you decide this?”

Ira shrugged. He seemed to have no idea of how poorly this was going over with the rest of his family. Or maybe he doesn’t care? Mark thought.

But that didn’t make sense. Timid, fearful Ira always needed the acceptance and support of Mark and Lea. He was desperate for their attention, their approval.

“It’s cool,” Ira said. “I moved some of my stuff out last night. The twins and I‑we’re going to stick together.”

Mark took a long breath. “Isn’t this something you should probably discuss with your mom and me? You can’t just move out of the house without telling us. I mean, whose idea was this?”

He turned to the twins, who were spreading grape jelly onto their toaster waffles. “Was this your idea?”

Before they could answer, the phone rang.

Mark squinted at the ID screen. “I don’t recognize the number.” He picked up the phone from the kitchen counter and clicked it on. “Hello?”

“Hello, Mark? This is Ginny Margulies. Ethan’s mother?”

“Oh, yes. Hi, Ginny. How‑”

“Is Ethan there? Did he stay over there last night? I’m really worried. He wasn’t in his room this morning and.. and.. is he there with you?”

M ark felt his throat tighten. He turned to Ira. “Did Ethan spend the night here last night?”

Ira nodded.

“Are you kidding me?” Mark exploded.

Ira grabbed a toaster waffle. The twins giggled.

“Ethan is here?” Mark demanded. He heard Ginny Margulies shout something in his ear. “Where is he?”

“Out back,” Ira replied. He loaded the waffle into the toaster.

“Your mom and I were out. Didn’t Roz check on you last night? She said she checks on the guesthouse every night.”

Ira shrugged. “Axl was crying a lot. Roz didn’t come.”

Mark looked to Lea to say something. But she stood frozen, leaning against the refrigerator with her arms crossed. Just watching. Why isn’t she giving me a little support here?

“You’re not going to school till you explain this,” Mark said to Ira. “And you are all going to remove those stupid arrows from your faces.”

“I don’t think so,” Ira said softly.

“Is my family getting weird?” Elena chimed in.

“Ethan is here,” Mark said into the phone.

“Oh, thank goodness.” He heard a long sigh at the other end.

“But we didn’t know‑”

“You don’t know who’s staying in your own house?” Her worst fear over, the woman quickly turned angry. “I don’t understand. Why didn’t he call me and tell me where he was? Why didn’t you call me? Somebody?”

“Please. Calm down. Ethan is fine. There was a mix‑up, that’s all. My sister was supposed to check on them.”

Mark wanted to end the conversation. But he knew there was just more confrontation facing him after he hung up.

What is Ira’s story? Why is he acting so un‑Ira‑like?

“Can I at least talk to him?” Mrs. Margulies’s voice was tight and challenging.

“Well, no. I don’t see him yet. He‑” Mark realizing how feeble he sounded.

“Well, where is he?”

Mark lowered the phone. “Ira? Can you go get Ethan? His mother wants to speak with him.”

Ira took a bite of toaster waffle. He stared back at Mark as if he didn’t understand the question.

The twins giggled again.

Elena rolled her eyes. “What is your problem this morning?”

Lea finally uncrossed her arms. “We should have a family discussion later, don’t you think?” She turned to the twins. “If you have guests back there‑”

“We’re not exactly guests,” Ira interrupted. “We live there now.”

“The school bus!” Daniel cried, pointing at the window that looked out on the driveway. “Let’s go!”

“Not so fast!” Mark made a grab for Ira. But Ira dodged out of his hands and burst out the kitchen door.

The twins followed, shouting their morning chant, which was beginning to sound more and more unpleasant to Mark. “Rule the school! Rule the school!”

Maybe there’s a meaning here I’m not getting.

Out the back window, he saw Ethan run out of the guesthouse and catch up with Ira and the twins. “Oh no,” Mark groaned. “Is that a blue arrow on Ethan’s face?”

Lea raked her hands through her hair, making it stick out in frazzled clumps. “I don’t really understand.. ”

Mark heard a chattering sound. He lowered his eyes to the phone. He forgot he was still holding it.

“Ginny? Ginny?” It took awhile to make her stop shouting. “Ethan just got on the school bus,” he told her. “He’s on his way to school.”

“But what about his backpack? What was he wearing? What about his lunch? Did he have any breakfast?”

“I’m sorry. I really can’t answer those questions. This is all a surprise to Lea and me, too. The boys slept in the guesthouse last night and.. we didn’t know.”

“Excuse me? The guesthouse? You allow twelve‑year‑old boys to sleep by themselves in your guesthouse? And you don’t even know who’s there?”

“Normally, we check on them all the time. But I guess the boys had a sleepover together and forgot to tell us.” Lame.

Silence at the other end.

Mark raised his eyes to Lea, who was pacing back and forth, hands in the pockets of her beach cover‑up, hair still spiked like lawn divots.

“Ira is a nice boy,” Mrs. Margulies said finally. “But I’m not so sure I want Ethan to come to your house.”

“I’m sorry, Ginny. I feel as badly as you do.”

“I read the papers, Mark. I know what happened at your house. The murder, I mean. You must be under a lot of pressure. I think Ethan should stay away.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better‑” He realized she had clicked off.

He slammed the phone onto the counter. He turned to Lea. “Nice morning, huh? That was a warm family moment.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you blaming the twins? You’re going to berate me again for bringing them here?”

Elena backed away, hands raised. “I don’t want to hear this.”

“How are you getting to school?” Mark spun on her. He didn’t intend to sound so angry.

She backed up against the kitchen table. “Ruth‑Ann’s dad. He’s picking me up. You don’t have to chew my head off. I didn’t do anything.”

Before Mark could apologize, he heard footsteps coming down the stairs. Roz stormed into the kitchen, still in her long blue flannel nightshirt and carrying Axl in her arms. Her hair was unbrushed. Her eyes darted around the kitchen.

“Roz‑? Are you okay?” he started.

“Who did this?” she demanded. “Who was it?”

Elena squinted at Axl. She was the first to see it. “Oh my God.”

“Who snuck up to the attic last night?” Roz shouted. “Who would do this to my baby?”

Mark took a staggering step toward her, then stopped short when he saw what Roz was talking about. The fat blue arrow, pointing up, on Axl’s left cheek.

T he halls at Sag Harbor Middle School smelled of some kind of strong disinfectant. The sharp odor made Samuel’s eyes water and his nose burn. He had always been very sensitive to smells.

When he was younger, the pungent aroma of burning meat from the island’s smoker pits always made him nauseous. But he had outgrown that a while ago.

The four of them walked past the principal’s office and turned the corner into the long hall that led to Miss Montgomery’s classroom. Daniel walked with an arm casually draped over Ira’s shoulder.

Samuel kept close to Ethan, who still seemed reluctant to devote himself wholeheartedly to ruling the school. His assignment from Daniel was to keep close to Ethan and make sure his transition was smooth.

Samuel glimpsed a few kids turning from their lockers and staring at them as they passed. He wasn’t surprised that the face arrows would draw some attention.

Two dark‑haired sixth‑grade girls, fresh from a morning basketball team practice in their blue‑and‑white team uniforms, noted the arrows and giggled. But they didn’t stop to comment or ask what the arrows meant.

“You know those girls, boyo?” Daniel asked Ira. “They’re pretty awesome.”

Ira shrugged. “I know them, but they don’t talk to me. I–I’m not really popular, you know.”

Daniel chuckled. “You will be.”

Samuel saw the big bulldog‑faced kid, Derek Saltzman, bending over the water fountain on the wall. Derek raised his head as the four boys approached.

He narrowed his beady gaze on Ira. “Hey, Sutter. Did you have a shower this morning?”

“No. Why?” Ira said.

Derek filled his mouth with water, then turned and sprayed Ira’s face and the front of his jacket. “There’s a shower for you, dude.” His laugh sounded more like hiccupping, a series of high whoops.

Ira wiped water off his cheeks with his hand.

Derek noticed the blue arrows for the first time. “What’s up with that?” He took his thumb and smeared it over Ira’s cheek. “Hey, it doesn’t come off.”

“Want one?” Daniel said.

“Yeah, boyo. Join the club,” Samuel said.

Ethan hung back, almost using Samuel as a shield. Samuel knew Ethan was afraid of Derek.

“You look like fucking freaks,” Derek snarled. “Here. Want to wash it off?” He spit another stream of water into Ira’s face.

Daniel stepped in front of Ira to confront Derek. “You’re a tough lad. Want to spit water in my face?” Daniel’s features hardened, and he gave Derek an icy stare.

Oh, please, Daniel. It’s early in the morning. Don’t spoil the whole school day.

But Derek wasn’t intimidated. “Fuck yes!” He sucked in a long drink and spit a stream of water in Daniel’s face. Then he laughed his whooping laugh.

Daniel didn’t move a muscle. Just let the cold water run down his cheeks and chin.

Daniel. Please.

“You forgot to add something to those arrows on your faces,” Derek said, returning Daniel’s unblinking stare. “You’ve got to put the words I’m with Stupid. ”

Some boys across the hall burst out laughing at that. Samuel spun around, surprised to find a small crowd watching the confrontation. He recognized the two girls from the basketball team and five or six other kids from his class.

Daniel and Derek continued their staring contest. Derek leaned his back against the porcelain fountain and crossed his beefy arms in front of him.

Samuel watched his twin clench and unclench his fists. Samuel’s stomach tightened in dread. He knew this meant trouble. A lot of trouble.

But couldn’t it wait till later? Couldn’t they have a quiet school day first?

A hush fell over the hall as the two boys continued to glare at each other. No locker doors slammed. No footsteps on the tile floor. No voices.

And then heavy footsteps. And a ringing shout. And before anyone could move, Mrs. Maloney bulled her way through the crowd.

“What’s going on here? What is the fuss and commotion, may I ask?”

Samuel took a step back. The principal wore a long gray crewneck sweater and a plaid skirt over black tights. Her beaded earrings jangled as she walked.

She pushed past Samuel, Ethan, and Ira, and strode up to Daniel and Derek, her eyes moving from one to the other. “Well, boys, I like shows. I like to be entertained. Can anyone explain to me what this show is about?”

They didn’t answer.

“Well, there must be a show because I see you’ve got an audience.” She motioned to the crowd of onlookers blocking the hall.

Neither boy spoke.

The principal narrowed her eyes at Derek. “Is there a problem here? I hope you haven’t been giving our new students a bad idea of our school.”

“He spit water on the new kid,” a boy shouted from the back of the crowd.

“He spit on Ira, too,” another boy chimed in.

Mrs. Maloney sighed and shook her head, making her earrings jangle. “Oh, Derek, Derek, Derek. After that nice long talk we had in my office the other day? You do remember that talk, don’t you?”

Derek nodded his head and grunted.

“Well, we don’t spit on people in this school. Lordy no. Do we need to have another long talk? Maybe call your mother in again?”

Derek’s cheeks turned red.

Daniel tapped Mrs. Maloney on the arm, startling her. Samuel watched him turn on his sweetest, most angelic smile. “He didn’t mean us any harm, mum,” Daniel said in a tiny voice. “It was a joke, see.”

Mrs. Maloney reacted with surprise. “A joke? Spitting on other kids is a joke?”

Daniel’s dimples flashed. His blue eyes widened in innocence. “He meant it to be funny. He wasn’t being mean.”

“Yeah. It was a joke,” Derek claimed. “I saw someone do it on TV.”

Suddenly, Mrs. Maloney didn’t seem to be interested in Derek. She was squinting at Daniel. Then her eyes moved to the other boys.

“Oh, good Lord in heaven!” she exclaimed, slapping her cheek with one hand. “I didn’t even notice. My eyes must be going.”

Samuel knew she had just seen the blue arrows on their faces.

This is not going to be a quiet morning.

“Well, goodness. Big blue arrows on your handsome faces. Ira, did you boys start a gang?”

Ira swallowed. “N‑no.”

“Do we allow gangs at Sag Harbor Middle School?” she asked, running a stubby finger down Ira’s cheek. “I don’t think so.”

“It’s not a gang.” Daniel stepped in. “It’s a club.”

The bell clanged right above their heads. The sound made Samuel jump. The disinfectant smell had given him a headache. The tension in the hall wasn’t helping. He thought about soft waves, frothy, clean, and cold, splashing on yellow sand.

“Everyone get to class.” Mrs. Maloney waved them all away with both hands. “You too, Derek. Everyone but the Blue Arrow Gang.”

Derek flashed Daniel a nod, as if to say thank you. He thought he’d escaped punishment this time. But Samuel knew he was mistaken.

Mrs. Maloney herded the four boys to her office. She brought in folding chairs and motioned for them to sit. Then she sat down heavily behind her desk and thumbed through a few pink phone‑message slips.

She wasn’t really reading them, Samuel thought. She was getting herself together, preparing what to say.

When she glanced up, her expression was stern. “Please explain these face tattoos to me.”

“We want to rule the school,” Daniel replied without hesitating.

She blinked. “I don’t understand.”

Daniel wore his most innocent face and spoke in his high, little‑boy voice. “The arrows point up, see? It means we want to go up. ”

“Up with Sag Harbor Middle School,” Samuel added, always ready to help his twin. “Up with our school.”

Mrs. Maloney rested her head in her hands. “So you lads are telling me you want to be cheerleaders?”

“Not really,” Samuel answered. “We want to show that we are together, see.”

“No, I don’t see.” She turned to Ira. “I know your father believes that kids should do whatever they want. But did he really approve of you painting arrows on your faces?”

“Not exactly,” Ira replied in a whisper.

Mrs. Maloney sat up straight. She tapped one hand on the desktop. “Well, I’m glad you lads want to do well and show some pride in your school. But I think you’ve gone about it the wrong way. I’m afraid I can’t allow it.”

“Yes, you can,” Daniel said in his little voice.

She blinked at him. “I want all four of you to go wash those arrows off right now.”

“No, we won’t be doing that, mum.” Daniel’s matter‑of‑fact reply.

She used the desktop to push herself to her feet. “Go to the boys’ room now. Stay in there till the arrows are gone. Go!”

No one moved.

“We won’t be doing that,” Daniel said. He stood up and nodded to Samuel.

Okay. Heaven give me strength. Here we go.

Samuel concentrated. It took so much energy to heat up his eyes.

Mrs. Maloney crossed her arms over the front of her sweater. “Daniel, I don’t understand. At your old school, did you talk back to your principal and disobey him or her?”

“We want to rule the school,” Daniel said.

“Answer my question. Why are you acting like this? I know you are new here and things may be different for you.. ”

Daniel turned to his twin.

Samuel saw only red now. A billowing sheet of red in front of him. His eyes made a sizzling sound, like bacon frying.

Burn time, Mrs. Maloney.

“Daniel, if you don’t obey me, I have no choice‑”

“You have no choice,” Daniel said.

M rs. Maloney uttered an alarmed cry. “Samuel? Your eyes! What’s wrong with your eyes?”

“Are you going to burn her?” Samuel heard Ethan’s voice behind him.

“Are you going to kill her?” From Ira, alarmed.

Samuel saw only shimmering sheets of red. But he could feel the excitement in the room.

“Ouch! Stop it! Are you crazy? What are you doing?”

I hate it when they scream like that.

Did we remember to close the office door?

Samuel felt his brother’s hand on his arm. “Careful. Careful. Not too much,” Daniel whispered. “Just enough to let me get inside her brain.”

Mrs. Maloney was silent now. Samuel kept the fiery beam trained on her head.

Burn. Feel the burn.

Silence, except for the pop and sizzle of the red heat.

“Almost done,” Daniel said calmly. “Ease up, boyo. I’m almost there. Ease up. Ease up. We don’t want to leave burns. We don’t want her to remember, do we?”

Samuel pulled the heat back. It was easier to harness it than to fire it up. He could feel his eyes cooling. His headache was gone. He gazed around the room and saw the principal slumped in her leather chair, a dazed smile on her face, arms dangling down the sides of the chair.

Ira and Ethan sat expressionless watching with silent awe.

Daniel still leaned over Mrs. Maloney, staring into her eyes. He patted her broad shoulder gently. He brushed a hand over her head, straightening her short hair. He lifted her hands and placed them in her lap.

“Did it work?” Samuel asked.

He grinned. “No doubt. No worries. Be happy.”

He dropped back into the chair between Ira and Ethan.

Mrs. Maloney shook her head, as if waking up from a short nap. She squinted at the four boys for a long moment. Then she smiled.

“I’d better make that announcement now,” she said.

She stepped around them to a table with a microphone and a stack of electronic equipment. She threw a switch. Cleared her throat. Leaned over till her mouth was a few inches from the microphone.

“Attention, everyone,” she said.

Samuel could hear her voice echoing from classroom to classroom all down the hall.

“Attention, everyone. This is Mrs. Maloney. I have a special announcement this morning.”

The speaker squealed. She jerked her head back. Then resumed:

“Our school has a new slogan I think you will all be proud of. It’s Up with Sag Harbor Middle School. And we have a new school symbol. It’s a wide blue arrow pointing up. Because we all want to move up, don’t we?”

A pause. She turned and flashed Daniel a grin.

“So I’d like every student to stop by the art room at some point before you leave today, and we will have the school arrow painted on your face. I want you to wear it proudly. Don’t forget. Everyone must stop in the art room and receive your school arrow today. Have a special day, everyone. Up with Sag Harbor Middle School.”

“L ea, please come away from there. You’re not even writing. You’re just staring at the screen. Please‑”

“I.. can’t, Mark. There’s so much more to write. I’m sorry.”

“I’m going to pull you away. You don’t leave this room. We have to talk.”

“Maybe when it’s finished..” She turned on the desk chair to face him, her face pale, eyes tired.

“I’ll take you to lunch in town. Where shall we go? We need to talk about the kids. The boys. How we’re going to deal with this arrow thing.”

She uttered a sigh. “The arrow thing. It’s so silly, isn’t it?”

“Well, yes and no. We need to figure out how we’re going to handle the twins. I mean when there’s conflict. You and I have been at each other’s throats.”

“No. We haven’t. We‑”

“Yes, we have. You’re always the good guy, Lea, and I’m forced to be the bad guy.”

“But you are the bad guy.”

He stared at her. “Was that a joke? Are you serious? You’re joking, right?”

She shrugged. “I can’t do lunch today. I’m so sorry. I have to work.”

“But you don’t have a deadline, do you? You’re not even writing it as an assignment for anyone.”

She spun her chair back to face the laptop monitor.

“The kids are worried about you, Lea. Elena asked why you never talk to her anymore. The twins‑well, you see they need some guidance, some care. You have to admit you’ve been neglecting them. And poor Ira‑”

“Do you think he’ll always be called Poor Ira?”

“That’s not funny, Lea.”

“I’m not neglecting the twins. The twins and I have a special bond. Even if we don’t spend time together..”

“You’re not making sense, sweetheart. Please get changed and come to lunch with me? It’s a beautiful day and.. and.. I love you. I want to spend time with you.”

She turned. Her eyes went wide. Her whole face constricted. He realized she was staring at the bed.

“Mark‑why do we have black sheets? Black sheets mean death!”

“Huh? We’ve had those sheets for years. We‑”

“No!” She jumped to her feet, face wide with alarm. “No! Black sheets are death! Death!”

“Lea‑what are you doing?” He made a grab for her. Missed.

She dove to the bed. Grasped the end of the top sheet. Tugged it up. She gritted her teeth. Uttered an animal growl. And ripped the black sheet between her hands.

“Lea‑stop!”

She ripped the sheet. Pulled hard. Ripped it some more.

“Lea‑please.” He ran over to her. Grabbed her arm. “Please stop.”

She tore frantically at the sheets, growling and grunting. “Black sheets are death. Death. Death. Death.”

A fter school, Samuel could see how surprised Derek was when he and Daniel showed up at his front door. The twins knew Derek’s house because it was one of the first school bus stops.

Derek had a stack of Oreos in one hand and a smear of chocolate on his front teeth. “Hey, you two weren’t on the bus,” he said, blocking the doorway.

“We walked,” Daniel said. He eyed the Oreos. “After‑school snack?”

Derek nodded. “Sorry. These are the last ones.”

We didn’t come for cookies, stupid.

“Nice house,” Daniel said, peering into the front room.

It is a nice house, Samuel thought. Big, with lots of tall glass windows reflecting the afternoon sunlight, at the top of a gently sloping front lawn, surrounded by leafy old trees.

“You want to come in?” Derek couldn’t hide his surprise at seeing them. The uncertainty seemed to change his personality. As if he’d momentarily forgotten to act tough.

He led them into the front room, all chrome and white‑leather furniture, big glass tables, and a zebra rug on the light wood floor. Tall paintings of beach scenes, crowds in bright bathing suits, people swimming. High cathedral ceiling with a wide skylight.

Derek swallowed the last of the Oreos. He wiped his face with the back of a pudgy hand. “Hey, thanks.” To Daniel.

The twins were gazing around the bright white sun‑sparkling room. They’d never stood in such luxury.

Too bad. Too bad.

Along with the anticipation, Samuel actually felt a little trepidation.

We walk into this clean perfect sunlit house, and what do we do?

Daniel finally turned back to Derek, who stood awkwardly, leaning on the back of a low, white couch. “Thanks,” Derek said again. “You know. For what you did this morning?”

Daniel gave the big kid a blank stare. Like he didn’t remember what Derek was talking about.

“You saved my ass,” Derek said. “With Mrs. Maloney. That was totally cool.”

“Well, it was all a joke, right?” Daniel said, but he didn’t say it in a friendly way. There was no smile in his voice. “When you spit the cold, cold water on me. All a joke, right?”

“Yeah, sure.” Derek instantly saw the change in Daniel’s face.

“You just lost your head, right, boyo?” Daniel definitely menacing now.

“Huh? I lost my head? Well, yeah. I guess.”

Daniel gripped Derek’s face by the chin and turned his head from side to side. “Hey, lad, you didn’t get your school arrow.”

Derek’s cheeks turned pink. He pulled free from Daniel’s grasp.

“I.. forgot. You know. I didn’t get to the art room. Maybe I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Probably not,” Daniel said. He nodded to Samuel.

Samuel took a deep breath. Then he gritted his teeth and started to warm up his eyes.

Daniel wrapped a hand over Derek’s beefy shoulder. “Can we see your room?”

P avano wasn’t fucking Sari. He was making love to her.

He wondered if she felt the same strong feelings he did. As she moved on top of him, he smoothed his hands over her ass and thought about how different this was. Sex with real feeling and not just sex.

How long had it been?

The last year with Susannah had been all the wrong feelings. After sex, he felt guilty. Sex with Susannah had been an assault. So much anger mixed in, anger that caught him by surprise. It was all too many feelings at once.

I’m a simple guy.

Why was he thinking of Susannah? Damn it, go away, bitch.

He wanted to be in the moment. But it seemed impossible to keep memories out of his mind. He remembered the birthmark on the back of Sari’s knee. And her salty scent. And the way she cooed‑like a dove‑with each move.

He had been surprised when she agreed to lunch at the New Paradise Cafe in town. And then amazed when she led him back to her little cottage of a house off Noyac Road.

And then it seemed natural to find themselves in her bedroom. And comfortable. Yes. Natural and thrilling and comfortable at the same time.

Pavano shut his eyes and thought how smart he was to come back. How smart.. how smart.. how smart.. Ohhhh, yes.. how smart. Oh God.

When it was over, he reached to throw an arm over her waist. But she sat up quickly, reached down to the floor, and pulled on her red underpants. Her long black hair fell over her face. In the slanting afternoon light from the tiny bedroom window, her skin had a sheen of silvery sweat.

“Sari, come back. What’s your hurry?”

She picked up her bra from the floor and slid it over her breasts, fastening it in back. Then she brushed back her hair with both hands. Her dark eyes locked on him for a moment, then turned away.

“Have to talk to you, Andy.”

He patted the bed. The sheets felt damp and still warm. “Come back here. We can talk.”

“No. I mean, we have to talk.” She pulled on her jeans. Then she dropped into the small red armchair across from the bed. “Remember the other night at that theater?”

Why is she looking at the floor? Is she avoiding my eyes?

“Sure. Of course I remember.”

“Remember I said it didn’t mean anything? When I kissed you? Remember?”

“Yeah. So?”

“Well, today.. this meant something.” She finally raised her eyes. She spread her long fingers over the arms of the chair, then tightened her hands into fists.

“To me too,” he said. He could feel himself getting hard, getting ready again. What the hell? He had time. He wasn’t on duty till six.

“What it meant was good‑bye.” Sari was staring hard at him now.

“Huh?”

“I wanted to say good‑bye, Andy.”

“But.. we just said hello.”

She shook her head. A smile crossed her face. It seemed so out of place. “Andy, you’re sweet.”

“Sweet?”

“But you’re such a jerk.”

He blinked. He waited for her to continue.

“We had lunch, right? We sat across from each other? We talked. We ate. We even held hands for a few minutes?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So you didn’t see the ring on my finger? You’re supposed to be a cop, Andy. You’re supposed to see everything?”

She waved her left hand in his face. The ring sparkled in the sunlight from the window.

He felt the muscles tighten on the back of his neck.

“I married Rod, see.”

“What the fuck? You married the tennis hat guy? When?”

“Sunday. We got married last Sunday. So I wanted to tell you. You’ve been calling me and following me and trying to bring back the past and‑”

“Only because I still have feelings for you.”

Stop sounding like a girl.

“That’s why I wanted to say good‑bye.” She stood up and searched for her T‑shirt on the floor. “I have nice memories, too, Andy. So now we had another nice memory and a nice good‑bye.”

“Jesus, Sari.”

His phone beeped. It took him a moment to remember it was in his uniform pants draped over the bench at the foot of the bed. He heard Chaz’s voice: “Pavano? You there? Got an early call. Pavano?”

Andy lurched to the bottom of the bed and fumbled the phone from the pants pocket. “Chaz? What’s up?”

“Where are you? Got to roll.”

“Uh.. Nowhere. I can meet you.”

Sari, straightening her T‑shirt, squinted at him. “Nowhere?”

Pinto gave him an address on Madison Street.

He clicked the phone off and stuffed it back in the pocket. He scrambled out of bed and grabbed up his clothes. “Hey, Sari‑it’s been real. Happy marriage. I enjoyed the honeymoon.”

“I can’t do this, Chaz. I admit it. I don’t have the stomach for it.” Pavano hung in the doorway, unable to step into the small bedroom.

Pinto scowled at him. “Are you actually trembling? Pavano, how long were you a cop in the city?”

Pavano swallowed. His Adam’s apple rode up and down his throat. “You know I was Housing Authority. I never.. I never saw anything like this. I.. don’t think we should fucking be here.”

“We’re fucking here, aren’t we?”

“First the guy in the car. Now this. I’m having such a bad day. This isn’t working out for me.”

“It didn’t work out too good for this kid, either,” Pinto muttered. “Actually, you’re doing better than he is. That cheer you up?”

“You’re a riot,” Andy said, eyes on the window. Avoiding the corner by the bed. Avoiding it.

A few minutes ago, I was in bed with Sari. And now.. a fucking horror show.

Pinto softened his tone. “Look, we got the call. We’ll do what we can do. You saw me radio Vince. The crime scene guys are on their way.”

“Chaz, there’s no one here. Who made the call?”

“A neighbor. Said she smelled something bad.”

“Yeah. Smells bad, okay. Maybe we should wait for the CS to get here.”

“Take a breath, Andy. You’re not a fucking rookie. Be a pro.”

“I.. I never‑” Pavano stopped himself. He forced himself not to look in the corner.

But what was that sick, sharp smell? It smelled like when Susannah burned a roast.

The bedroom was spotless. Not a thing out of place. A kid’s room without even a dirty sock on the floor. No sign of a weapon. A row of track lights across the ceiling sent bright circles of white halogen light over the room. Brighter than daylight. Cheerful.

Posters of New York Rangers hockey players on one wall. A movie poster hanging a little crooked over the desk. Pavano recognized Buzz and Woody.

His eyes moved too far and he glimpsed the dark lake of blood on the carpet. And were those chunks of.. burnt skin?

“He’s burned up, Chaz. I mean, like someone took a torch to him. Like the guy in the car. It’s fucking sick.”

“You’re babbling. Just shut up.”

“But where are the parents? Where are the fucking parents? Why was he alone in the house?”

Pinto removed his cap, scratched his thinning flattop. Beads of sweat glistened on his broad forehead. His little bird eyes trained on Pavano. “Now you’re starting to think like a cop.”

Still eyeing Andy, Pinto slid the cap back on. Then he turned and took a few steps toward the corner.

“Saltzman. The mailbox said Saltzman, right? I think I met the kid’s mother. On the pier one night. She’s divorced. I remember she’s divorced. She said the kid was troubled.”

“He ain’t troubled now. Come over here. Take notes.”

“Wh‑what are we looking for?”

“Are you stuttering now? Are you totally going to lose it?”

“I feel sick, Chaz. I mean really.”

“Suck it up, man. We’ve got to look for clues. For anything. Till the ME gets here.”

“Then what?”

“I don’t fucking know.”

Pinto leaned over the perfectly smooth white bedspread. Nothing to see. “You going to toss your dinner? Do it downstairs. Don’t contaminate this room.”

“The room‑it’s totally clean. It’s almost like it’s sterile or something. A kid’s room without a piece of paper out of place. No dirty clothes. No backpack hanging over a chair. Nothing. But there had to be a fire or something. Right? It smells like there was a fire.”

“Yeah. Smells like a barbecue.”

Chaz bumped open the closet door with his hip, careful not to leave fingerprints.

He sighed. “No sign of a murder weapon.”

“This is worse than the guy in the car. I’ve never seen anything like this.”

Chaz whirled around. “Do you think I have?” His cigarette‑hoarse voice went up two octaves. “It’s a fucking nightmare.”

Andy froze at the sound from the hall. Footsteps on the stairs.

“Vince radioed for CS backup,” Chaz said. “Has to be the ME. And he had to tell Franks. Franks will probably bring some state guys. Now we got some kind of fucking serial killer creep, right?”

The red‑haired woman burst into the room, eyes wide with fright, a raincoat flying behind her. “What are you doing here? This is my house. What are you doing here?”

Andy recognized her from that night on the pier. This was the same Saltzman, the victim’s mother.

“Get her out!” Pinto waved to Andy with both hands. “Get out of here. Get her out!”

“I don’t understand,” the woman planted her feet and glared at Andy. “Why are you here? Where is my son? Where is Derek?”

“Get her out!” Pinto lurched toward Andy. “Out. Now. Out of here.”

Andy felt in slow motion. Like coming out of a nightmare. Pulling himself awake slowly.

He took the woman by the shoulders. Too late.

“I don’t understand!” Fear replacing anger. “I don’t understand. Tell me‑”

“Get her out! Get her out!”

Andy couldn’t budge her. She saw. She saw the kid’s body.

“My Derek! Is that my Derek? I don’t understand. I don’t understand. Do you hear me? Talk to me. Please. I don’t understand.”

“Come with me.” Andy tried to turn her away. He held her shoulders and spoke softly. “Come with me. Please.”

“I don’t understand. I don’t understand.”

I’ve seen people go into shock before. But I’m not trained for this.

“Is that my son? Is that Derek?”

“Pavano‑get her out of here. Don’t stand there. Get her out!”

“Is that my Derek? But where is his head? Where is his head?”

Pavano managed to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She was screaming now, shrieking and sobbing. It took all his strength to force her into the hall.

Two uniformed cops were on the stairwell. Pavano motioned them up. “Take care of her. Call a doctor. This is her house. It’s.. her son.”

He passed the screaming woman on to them. The two cops struggled with her on the stairs. She stumbled and they had to block her to keep her from tumbling down the stairs.

His stomach churning, Pavano returned to Pinto. He found him bending over, hands on his knees. “Pinto? You okay?”

“Not really.”

“Huh? What?”

“Look under the bed, Andy. What’s that thing under the bed?”

Andy sucked in his breath. He squatted down and peered at the round, dark object half hidden in shadow near the wall under the bed. “What the fuck?”

Pinto straightened up. He sighed. “Andy, I think we just found the kid’s head.”

M ark gripped Autumn around the waist of her white tennis shorts. He intended to lift her off his lap. But she took one of his hands and slid it between her legs. Then she lowered her face to his and began to kiss his neck. Slowly, she moved her lips to his cheek, then his mouth.

“No. Autumn.”

She giggled and nibbled his ear.

“Lea is right upstairs. She could come down‑”

“But she won’t,” Autumn whispered. “She never stops working up there.”

She sat up straight, her white‑blond hair falling over her eyes, holding his hand against the front of her shorts. “What is she writing?”

Mark glanced nervously to the office door. He could feel his erection pushing against his jeans. “I’m not even sure. A long piece. Something about death rituals. She used to share her work with me.”

“And now?” Brushing her hair against his cheek.

“She stays up there day and night. I’m really worried about her. I can’t even drag her away for meals. She’s.. not right.”

“That’s why I’m here for you, Mark.” Whispered against his ear so that the skin tingled all down his body.

“No. Autumn‑please.” He worked his hand free and gripped her waist again. “Get up. Come on. Really. I’m serious.”

She made a pouty face, her round blue eyes wide, mouth all satirical. “Don’t you like me anymore?”

“We can’t do this.” Another glance to the door. Did he hear footsteps or just the house creaking? “Roz is home, too. And the boys are out back.”

She nuzzled his neck. Her lips were hot and dry. “Doesn’t that make it more exciting for you?”

“No. It just makes it more wrong.”

“Wrong?” Her smile faded. “You don’t really think it’s wrong, do you?”

Is she delusional?

“Yes. Wrong. I mean, look. I have too much to deal with now. I’m so worried about Lea and stressed about the kids and.. We can’t do this. We‑”

The front doorbell chimed.

Autumn scrambled to her feet. She frowned at him as she smoothed her short hair with both hands. Then she tugged down the legs of her shorts. “Wrong?”

“Of course it’s wrong.”

What’s that song? “How Can It Be Wrong If It Feels So Right?”

“Mark. It’s those two policemen again.” Roz’s shout from the front entryway. “Shall I send them back to your office?”

Mark stood up and straightened his blue polo shirt over his jeans. He squinted at Autumn. “What the fuck?”

She began straightening the stack of files on the desk. “Guess I’ll go home. Say you’ll miss me.”

Mark didn’t answer. He was trying to figure out why the police had returned. He heard their clomping footsteps, heard their voices as they made small talk with Roz.

Autumn slid out with her pouty face on. She glanced back as the two cops entered, then vanished down the hall.

Mark had a sudden fright. Do I have lipstick on my face?

Then he remembered Autumn wore only a clear lip gloss.

The two officers entered and apologized for disturbing him. They sat down in their usual places on the couch. The one named Pavano looked tired, weary, as if he hadn’t been getting much sleep. His partner didn’t waste time getting to the point.

“Mr. Sutter, I’m sure you’re aware that one of the students in your sons’ class was murdered last Wednesday.”

Mark nodded. “Yes. It’s so horrible. So shocking. I spoke with our three boys‑Ira and the twins‑and tried to see if they needed counseling.”

“Well, Officer Pavano and I think‑”

“My wife and I‑we know the Saltzmans. I mean, we knew them before the divorce. My wife was in a reading group with Elaine Saltzman. She.. she must be beyond devastated.”

The two cops nodded. Pavano tapped something into his phone.

“My son Ira wasn’t friends with Derek. But they knew each other since fourth grade, I think. Ira is very sensitive. I think he had a nightmare last night. You know. About Derek.”

“Sorry to hear that,” Pavano said, glancing up from his phone. “They brought in grief counselors to the school.”

Mark cleared his throat. “Yes. That’s smart. I’m trying to work with Ira on my own.”

“We went to the school yesterday,” the big cop, Pinto, continued, keeping his small eyes steady on Mark, as if studying every reaction.

They couldn’t think I had anything to do with the kid’s murder. Why are they here?

“We spoke to Mrs. Maloney and to the teacher. What’s her name?”

“Montgomery,” his partner offered.

“You know. We’re trying to cover every angle. Grasping at straws, really.”

He and Mark stared at each other. Mark waited for him to continue. He could smell Autumn’s lemony perfume. Was it on his cheek?

“We asked the principal to go over everything that happened on Wednesday,” Pinto said. “We just asked if anything concerning the deceased stuck out in her mind that day. Anything at all.”

“What were you looking for exactly?” Mark asked. He leaned forward and crossed his arms over the desk.

“We didn’t know,” Pinto said. “Just trying to get an idea of the boy’s day.”

“I don’t understand,” Mark said. “You talked to the principal. So.. why did you come here?”

“Well..” Pinto removed his cap and tossed it onto the arm of the couch. “The principal remembered that Derek Saltzman had a fight with your boys that morning.”

“Huh? A fight?”

“A spitting fight.”

Mark felt his cheeks grow hot. “I don’t think so. My son Ira would never spit on anyone.”

“Mrs. Maloney recalled that Derek Saltzman spit water on your son Ira and on your twin boys as well.”

Mark shook his head. “First I’ve heard of it. I do know that Derek has been in trouble before.”

“Well, we thought your boys might have some kind of information or recollection from that day,” Pavano chimed in. “Something that might give us a clue.”

“That’s pretty fucking desperate,” Mark said, tapping the desktop with both hands.

“We agree,” Pinto said quickly. “But there’s one more detail.” He turned to Pavano, as if asking for permission to continue.

Pavano gave an almost invisible shrug.

“This isn’t being given out to anyone,” Pinto said, playing with his cap, twirling it on one hand. “If you could keep it confidential. I mean, not spread it around to people in the community.”

“Yes. Of course,” Mark said.

“Well, you see,” Pinto continued in a voice just above a whisper, “the boy’s murder is very similar to the murder that occurred in your driveway.”

Mark couldn’t hide his surprise. “How do you mean?”

“The victim was burned,” Pinto said. “Like with a blowtorch. Very similar. Only in the boy’s case, his head was burned completely off. We found his skull‑no skin on it or anything. We found his skull all scorched.. under his bed.”

Mark stood up. He took a deep breath and held it, fighting down his nausea.

“Horrible,” he muttered. “Like a fucking horror movie.”

The two cops nodded. Pinto spoke first. “So, since the murders were similar, and since your sons had the spitting fight with the victim on the morning of his death, we just thought it wouldn’t hurt to talk to them for a few minutes. With your permission, of course.”

“But tell me again. You certainly don’t suspect‑” Mark started.

Pinto waved a hand. “Of course not. No kid could do what we’ve seen in these murders. Pavano and I, we’re just trying everything.”

“You know, I’ve thought a lot about the murder in my driveway,” Mark said, sitting up straight, leaning his head against the back of the desk chair. “I mean, it’s hard to stop thinking about it.”

“That’s for sure,” Pinto replied.

“I mean, it’s not like you guys leave and I just turn it off. I think about it day and night.”

“And?” Pinto said, showing a little impatience.

“Well, I just think you’re looking in all the wrong places. I mean, coming here? That’s a waste of your time. These murders.. They’re so violent. And nothing like this has happened in Sag Harbor before, right? So you need to check out new arrivals. Find someone who’s moved here very recently, someone with a violent past. The summer people haven’t arrived yet. That should make your job easier. I’m not a cop, but I’d be checking mental hospitals and‑”

“Thanks for your advice. But you have to understand you’re our number one suspect,” Pavano blurted out.

Mark felt his face grow hot. He saw Pinto flash an annoyed scowl at his partner.

“A guy comes to your house with bad news,” Pavano said, ignoring Pinto’s displeasure, “he ends up dead in your driveway. A kid gets into a fight with your boys. The kid ends up dead in his room.”

Mark wished they wouldn’t concentrate their stares on him like that. Yes, he could feel he was blushing. But blushing could mean all kinds of things. He’d written a paper on it. Why was he thinking about that paper now?

“I can testify that Mark isn’t a murderer.”

The voice made Mark jump. Lea came floating barefoot into the office, in a sleeveless blue top and blue short shorts. Her hair fell loosely around her face.

Mark thought she looked beautiful, except for her eyes, which were red and tired from staring into the laptop screen all day.

The two officers climbed slowly to their feet. They all nodded at each other solemnly.

“Mark can’t even kill a lobster,” Lea said. “He’s so squeamish, I have to drop them in the pot. He looks the other way. Really.”

Pinto studied Mark. “I’m allergic to shellfish,” he said.

“Too bad,” Lea offered.

“Mrs. Sutton, you were away when the murder occurred in your driveway,” Pavano said.

“I was in the city. I had some meetings. But I hurried home. I knew the kids would be upset.”

“They’ve been very edgy and out of sorts,” Mark added. “I’ve tried to get them to talk about it, but..”

Pinto turned back to Lea. “The twin boys were out in the front yard when the victim was murdered. Have they said anything to indicate‑”

“That they saw anything?” Lea interrupted. “No. Not a word. Mark asked them directly more than once. They say they were in back. In the guesthouse, in their room. They didn’t see a thing. And I believe them.”

“The twins have had their lives turned upside‑down,” Mark said. “Losing their parents and their home on the island, moving to a very different place. I’ve been watching them very closely. I think I’d know if they were keeping something from me.”

“Well, we appreciate all your help,” Pavano said.

“We came to ask the three boys just a few questions. Do you think that would be okay now?”

Mark turned to Lea. “Roz was going to take them into town to buy dinner,” Lea said. “But go ahead.”

“I guess it would be okay,” Mark said. “But if the talk begins to upset them‑”

“We’ll know when to stop,” Pinto said, glancing at his partner.

“I’m happy to cooperate, even if you think I’m your number one suspect. But as I said, this is pretty ridiculous, a total waste of time,” Mark muttered, walking to the office door.

“We have to do everything,” Pinto said. “This isn’t our usual kind of case.”

“I’ll go get the boys,” Lea said. She turned to Mark. “I’m going back to my work. Roz will take the boys and get dinner when they’re finished here.”

Mark turned to the cops. “The boys are out back. In the guesthouse. They’ve been hanging out there. All three of them. My son is shy and difficult. But I think he’s bonding with his new brothers.”

“Nice,” Pavano muttered.

Mark realized that was too much information.

I’m their top suspect. God. How stupid is that?

He heard the boys clomping down the hall.

I’ll cooperate the best I can. But of course my main goal has to be to protect my kids.

A few minutes later, the three boys stepped in. They glimpsed the two police officers and lingered near the office door.

All three boys wore loose‑fitting denim jeans and oversize dark T‑shirts. Ira carried his game player in one hand. The twins had sweet smiles on their faces, which seemed strange to Mark. Why were they always so happy?

Pinto motioned for them to sit on the floor. He squinted from one to the other. “Those arrows on your faces.”

“We saw them on kids at your school,” Pavano offered. “The principal said‑”

“It’s our new school symbol,” Daniel interrupted. He turned his face to show off his blue arrow.

“What does it mean?” Pinto asked.

“Up,” Daniel replied. “Up with Sag Harbor Middle School.”

“Nice,” Pinto said. But he gave his partner a look that said it wasn’t so nice. “Is everyone at your school wearing them?”

“They will be,” Daniel answered. “It was the principal’s idea.”

“Different,” Pavano commented.

“We just want to talk to you for a few minutes about your friend Derek Saltzman,” Pinto said, leaning toward the boys with his hands on his knees. “Of course you heard about what happened to Derek.”

The boys nodded somberly. “It’s very sad,” Daniel said softly.

“Is that how you feel? Sad?” Pinto asked.

The three of them nodded again.

“He wasn’t very nice,” Ira said, eyes down. “But he shouldn’t be killed.”

“Not very nice?” Pinto’s eyes widened.

“He was mean to a lot of kids,” Ira said, glancing at Mark.

Mark nodded, signaling him to be honest about Derek.

“Was he mean to you?” Pinto asked Ira.

Ira nodded. He stuffed his hands into his jeans. “Yeah. He took things from me. Candy and stuff. He did that to everyone. My friend Ethan, too. He took their stuff. He bossed kids around. A lot.”

“It’s.. very scary,” Samuel chimed in. “What happened to Derek.” Mark saw a tear glisten on his cheek.

Daniel’s shoulders trembled. “I’m scared,” he said, eyes on Mark. “Why did a killer do that to Derek?”

Samuel and Daniel both sobbed. Tears tracked down their faces. Ira kept his head down. He kept picking at a scab on his thumb.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Mark told the two cops.

Pinto leaned closer to the boys. “Are you feeling too sad to answer a few more questions?”

Silence. Ira spoke first. “It’s okay.”

“You said Derek was mean. Is that why you got in a fight with him Wednesday morning?”

The question made Mark clench his jaw. But the boys didn’t react at all.

“It wasn’t a fight,” Daniel said, raising his blue eyes to the cops. He wiped tears off his cheeks with both hands.

“It was just a joke, don’t you know,” Samuel told them. “That’s all. A water‑spit joke. We didn’t have a fight.”

Pavano tapped notes into his phone. Pinto studied their faces.

“You didn’t get angry when Derek spit water on you?”

“Just a joke,” Daniel muttered. “The boyo was joking us.”

“Mark? Can you come here a minute? I need some help.” Mark heard Roz call from the kitchen.

He jumped to his feet and motioned to the two cops. “Be right back.” He hurried from the room.

Pinto scratched the side of his face. “Just one more thing. I need to ask you twins one more question.”

They raised their eyes to him.

“You see, we talked to the school bus driver. He told us you two weren’t on his bus Wednesday afternoon. Is that true?”

Daniel and Samuel exchanged glances. “Yes,” Daniel answered. “We missed the bus, don’t you see.”

Pinto: “Where did you go?”

“To Derek’s house.”

Both officers leaned forward. Pinto studied the twins’ faces. “You went to Derek’s house after school? Why?”

“To tell him no hard feelings,” Daniel said in a tiny voice. “We told him we weren’t mad at him. You know. About the water spitting.”

Pavano typed furiously on his phone. Then he stopped. “Does your father know you were at Derek’s house?”

They both nodded. “He came to pick us up,” Daniel said. His shoulders started to tremble again. His twin wiped tears from his eyes.

Pavano and Pinto exchanged glances again. “Funny. He didn’t tell us about that.”

“It was so scary,” Daniel uttered. “Samuel and I‑we were scared.” Both twins looked to the doorway, checking to see if Mark was there.

“Why were you scared?”

“Pa yelled at Derek,” Daniel replied, voice trembling. “Pa yelled at him. He was real mad. For spitting on us, I think. And Pa slapped Derek. He slapped Derek twice.”

Both boys were sobbing now. “We were so scared,” Samuel said.

“Pa made us promise not to tell,” Daniel added, glancing to the door. “But it wasn’t right. Pa shouldn’t have done that. It made us scared.”

“I need to talk to you boys.” Mark burst into the guesthouse. “This is serious.” His head was spin