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She grabbed her phone, shoved it in the pocket of her sleep pants.

She started down, past Cleo’s room, the room Owen used—her door closed, his open, bed made.

She wondered if she’d ever come to take it for granted—the rooms, the beauty and history, the feel of the house that had become hers.

And decided, as she walked down the grand staircase, absolutely not.

She made her way into the kitchen, where Trey and Owen talked quietly over pie and coffee.

Conversation broke off when she came in.

She said, “Good morning,” and headed for the coffee.

“Morning,” Trey echoed. “The dogs are running off their breakfast out back.”

Now she said, “Mmm. So you two are having pie for breakfast.”

“It was right there,” Owen pointed out. “No different from a Danish or a turnover, if you ask me.”

She turned with her coffee, leaned back against the counter as she studied them. Two great-looking men, she thought. Friends, longtime friends. Longer than she and Cleo. Friends who could communicate with each other without words.

Like right now.

Her phone gave Lady Gaga’s “Poker Face” a spin.

“Right. I’ve been known to play poker myself, so… You might as well tell me what’s going on, as it involves me, directly or indirectly.”

“Over to you, pal.” Owen rose, took a tub of leftovers out of the fridge. “I’ve got to get moving.” He picked up the bag at his feet and started toward the back door.

“Owen?”

He paused when Sonya said his name, turned as she walked to him. Then when she wrapped her arms around him, gave her back an awkward pat.

She could actually feel him look over her head at Trey.

“Thanks for being here.” She let him go.

“No problem. Later.”

When he went out the back, gave Jones a whistle, she turned back to Trey.

“I don’t like you keeping things from me.”

“I’m not doing that. Won’t do that. I fully intended to tell you when you got up. Or if I had to leave before, I’d have called you to tell you.”

She knew truth when she heard it, and nodded. “Okay. Tell me now. Did I try to walk last night?”

“No. When the three a.m. business started, you muttered something in your sleep. But I couldn’t make it out. But besides the usual, I heard something outside.”

“Outside the house?”

“Yeah. I got up, went over to look.” He took a moment, drank coffee. “And I saw her. Dobbs. I saw her standing on the seawall—but under a full moon, with the wind really whipping.”

“We didn’t have a full moon last night.”

“That’s right. I’m going to bet the moon was full when Dobbs jumped off that wall. Like I watched her do last night.”

“You—you watched her jump?” Instinctively, Sonya pressed a hand to her heart. “You saw her suicide.”