Far Harbor by Joann Ross Page A

about her outburst in court.”
    “During Gwen’s custody hearing?” Savannah nodded. “Yes. But not the details.”
    “It wasn’t pretty. She ended up telling the entire court the story of how she’d once prescribed birth-control pills for the presiding judge, back when the judge was a college student. At the time I was so busy trying to keep us both from getting tossed into Jack’s jail for contempt of court, I put it down to her strong feelings for Gwen and her eccentric personality.”
    “How do you feel about it now?” Savannah felt a distant pain and realized that she was digging her fingernails into her palms.
    “I think she should get a complete physical, but she insists that there’s nothing wrong with her.”
    “You’ve discussed this with Gram? Without first talking with me?”
    “You’ve been a little distracted,” Raine reminded her. “What with your divorce, and trying to restore the lighthouse and beginning a new business. Besides,” her tone turned a bit defensive, “I mentioned it to Mother back when you were depressed. We decided that the last thing you needed was one more problem to worry about.”
    The conversation must have taken place while she’d been hiding beneath her covers. “How nice of you both to decide what’s good for me.”
    “We were only trying to protect you.”
    “I know.” It was consummate Raine, watching out for her little sister. Savannah decided that nothing would be gained by sharing her thoughts that such protection had resulted in her taking too long to acquire a sense of independence. “I also appreciate your concern. But I’m an adult, Raine. From now on, I don’t want to be left out of the loop.”
    There was an awkward moment as the sisters looked at each other. Then, instead of arguing, or behaving as if her feelings were hurt, Raine gave her a slow smile.
    “Good for you,” she said, her words unknowingly echoing that of Mr. Hawthorne.
    “We need a plan,” Savannah said.
    “A battle plan,” Raine agreed. She reached into a cookie jar shaped like Winnie-the-Pooh’s honey pot, took out a handful of Oreos, and put them on a plate. “Do you want to confront her directly?”
    “We’ll undoubtedly have to, eventually.” Feeling six years old again, Savannah separated the chocolate halves and scraped the white filling off with her teeth. “But perhaps we should observe her more closely, first, to gather evidence.”
    “In a controlled setting.” Raine took a carton of milk from the refrigerator and poured them both a tall glass.
    “Like a scientific experiment,” Savannah said.
    “Exactly.” Raine crunched a cookie and appeared thoughtful. “You know, we still haven’t had a proper celebration for you having bought the lighthouse.”
    “I thought we’d agreed that we’d wait for the party until all the restoration was done.”
    “That’s your party,” Raine reminded her. “There’s no reason why I can’t throw an earlier one.” She nodded again, seeming pleased with this idea. She polished off her milk in long swallows, then took a pen and magnetic pad from the refrigerator door. “We’ll invite the entire family, of course. That way we can all watch for signs.”
    “Do you think that’s wise? Gram might notice something’s up if everyone’s in on it.”
    “The reason we’re doing this is because she isn’t all that lucid these days,” Raine reminded her. “We’ll swear everyone to secrecy and be extra careful not to be too obvious. Besides,” she pointed out with the unfailing logic Savannah had always admired, “this way, if one of us slips up, the others can provide backup distraction.”
    She sounded so confident, Savannah believed her. “What about the menu? I can fix something—”
    “You will not. From what Lilith tells me, you’re working nearly around the clock now. We’ll order out from Oley’s,” Raine said decisively. “Everyone likes barbecue. And so you won’t have to lower yourself to eat