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“Ahoy!” Ellery waved back. “Welcome to Pirate’s Cove!”

Tosh and Lenny were followed by Flip, who looked like a well-groomed ghost (right down to the phosphorescent tinge of his face) and Chelsea, huffing and puffing as she dragged a mountain of luggage behind her.

Watson, who had never met any of these people in his brief life, nonetheless began to bark as though he’d spotted long-lost comrades.

Arf! Arf! Arf!

“Oh, my gosh, he’s SO cute!” Tosh’s voice rang across the water.

Unsurprisingly, Tosh—a tall, red-haired and boundlessly energetic young woman—seemed the least bothered by what had clearly been a rough trip from Point Judith.

Ellery started down the concrete walkway, and everyone spent the next few minutes hugging and kissing hello.

“I can’t believe you’re finally here,” Ellery told them.

Arf! Arf! Arf! Watson seconded.

“Same,” Lenny moaned. “If I’d realized we had to round flipping Cape Horn—”

Tosh cut her off. “Ell, you look terrific! You’re like a walking ad for Ralph Lauren. Here, take Lenny before she falls into the harbor. Our luggage is still onboard.”

Ellery stopped hugging Flip—Phillip Daly to talent agents and casting directors—in order to receive Lenny, or “Goth Girl” as they’d referred to her back in the day. Lenny was small and wiry with black-green hair and wide green eyes.Usually,her eyes were wide. At the moment, they showed a tendency to roll back in her head.

“Ugh,” Lenny moaned, and sank through Ellery’s hold in order to sit on the cement. “Another three minutes and I’d have thrown myself overboard.”

“That happens a lot in these parts.” He moved to help Chelsea with the tower of suitcases she was attempting to haul single-handedly up the walkway. He called after Tosh, “Wait. Isn’t this your luggage?”

Flip and Lenny laughed. “That’s just Chelsea’s gear,” Flip told Ellery.

“Hey, I’m past the age of living out of a knapsack,” Chelsea snapped.

Ellery did a doubletake. Not at the luggage. At Chelsea.

Chelsea was, without question, the most gifted actor in their clique, but off-stage she had always made a point of scorning any kind of (her word)artifice. She was average height, average weight and, regardless of the season, preferred to dress in jeans and flannel shirts. As long as Ellery had known her, she’d worn her lank brown hair to her shoulders and avoided any makeup more elaborate than sunscreen. But now?

Now Chelsea’s brown hair was stylishly cut and gilded with coppery highlights. She wore lash extensions and had clearly had lip injections. Like Tosh, she wore combat boots, jeans, and a black parka that, except for the color, looked exactly like Tosh’s teal one.

“Wow. Chelsea. I almost didn’t recognize you behind all those suitcases.”

Chelsea knew exactly what he meant. Her smile was sour. “Is that supposed to be a compliment?”

“And that’s just her hair products,” Flip put in.

Chelsea made a face at him. “Ha. Ha.”

“Help,” Lenny moaned. She was now flat on the cement as Watson worked frantically to deliver mouth-to-mouth resuscitation.

Ellery abandoned Chelsea’s luggage and went to rescue Lenny. He scooped up Watson who, knowing his life-saving work was not done, objected loudly. An elderly seagull perched on the white railing was offended by such language, and began to offer his views.

The remaining passengers straggling off the ferry gave their impromptu theatrical production wide berth.

“Where are you parked, Ell?” Flip hauled Lenny to her feet.

“It’s the navy-blue VW behind the snack bar. I think we can all squeeze in, but I hired a taxi to bring your luggage to the house.”

“You didn’t have to do that.” Chelsea looked more uneasy than relieved.

But yeah, unless Ellery wanted to make several trips to and from the ferry landing, he had to do that. “Common procedure. No worries. Ezra won’t lose your luggage.”