Free Dare to Die by Carolyn Hart Page B

direct and open.
    â€œNow you’re married.” Iris trailed fingers through the water. “It’s like a fairy tale. And you lived happily ever after.”
    Annie’s throat felt tight. “Happily ever after…” Her smile disappeared. Once, she’d trusted that her life and his were charmed. Not now. Never again. Life and happiness were fragile at best. Sunny days could be gone in an instant.
    Iris’s dark eyes were empathetic. It was as if a cloud slid acrossthe sun and both of them were in a shadow. She looked at Annie gravely. “What happened?”
    Annie gazed at Iris’s burdened face, too old for its years. Annie was often asked about a time that was seared in her memory. She was quick to discern the curiosity of those seeking sensation, much like TV viewers feasting on the raw emotion and exhibitionism of reality shows. Instead, Iris looked at Annie with eyes that had known sorrow and fear. Was it better to push pain deep inside, hope that time would blur memory? Or was it better to confront the past?
    Annie ducked beneath the surface, came up with water streaming down her face, fresh and cool. She’d not intended to reveal her heart to a stranger when she invited Iris to swim. “Last summer Max was accused…” She felt again the terror of sultry August days when Max was suspected of murder and damning facts piled against him until there seemed no way to save him.
    Iris floated in a plastic ring and listened. When Annie finished, Iris spoke slowly. “Everybody has troubles. Even people like you. I guess I thought I was the only one.”
    â€œDo you have troubles?” Annie’s voice was gentle.
    Iris’s face crinkled in thought. “Things are better now. I belong to AA and NA.” Her face held a question.
    Annie reached over the water, patted a bony arm. “I never had to fight that kind of battle. You have great courage.”
    â€œOne day at a time.” The oft-used words were a bulwark, a hope, a prayer, a plea. Iris looked past Annie at the rising tide and the spartina grass wavering in the onshore breeze. “I have things I need to clear up. Sometimes I don’t remember things. When I do remember, I’m not sure what really happened. I’ve tried to tell the people I hurt that I’m sorry. That’s why I came home. There are people I need to see.”
    Annie remembered Cara Wilkes’s sleek white convertible. Cara hadn’t stayed long. After she left, Annie had found Iris sad and alone on the deck.
    Iris looked wry. “See, I’ve got things to ask, but nobody much wants to see me. I bring back things they don’t want to remember. Maybe I should leave.”
    Annie wondered where Iris would go and to what kind of life?
    Suddenly Iris’s face hardened. “I can’t let it be. When things aren’t right, you have to do what you can.”
    Annie had no words of wisdom. She knew better now than to murmur that everything would work out. Maybe. Maybe not.
    A faraway deep-throated blast signaled the arrival of the five-thirty ferry.
    Annie shot straight up in the water. “The ferry’s coming in. I have to be at the pavilion in fifteen minutes!” She could do it. Max always marveled at how quickly she showered and dressed and was on her way, with her hair damp but curly, a touch of makeup, and a smile. The crisp robin’s-egg blue linen shirt and skirt waited for her in the closet. It was time to share laughter and friendship and food.
    In three swift strokes, Annie was at the ladder. On the deck, water streaming in rivulets from her brief hibiscus-bright suit, she looked down at Iris, alone in the pool. Iris had nowhere to go, no one to welcome her, and peanut butter and Ritz crackers in her cabin.
    â€œIris, please come with me.” Annie’s smile was sudden and warm. “We’re having an oyster roast. Ben Parotti’s sweet tea with fresh mint is the