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up. They were all staring at me.
    “Kyle, you had been pretty ill. Maybe you’re confusing—”
    “I’m not confusing anything. Cosmo had taken it down for the exhibition at the MOMA. It was propped in the dining room. I remember wondering about that because he had never shown it before.”
    “I’d give anything to find that painting,” Vince said, breaking the moment. “I’d be set for life.”
    Brett retorted, “Who cares about one missing painting? Where’s the painter? That’s what I want to know!”
    Following this there was another of those uncanny silences.
    Enjoying himself, Brett rose, a lithe shadow in the firelight. “Maybe it was Professor Plum in the conservatory with the wrench. Or maybe a wench! What do you think, Kyle?”
    Joel said finally, “That’s not exactly in the best of taste, is it?”
    “No?” Brett laughed. “Well, let’s talk about something else.”
    “What would you like to talk about, Brett?” Micky asked dryly. “Yourself?”
    Vince gazed up enraptured. “God, I’d love to paint you, just like that. The embodiment of the pagan spirit.”
    Joel’s breath sucked in sharply. My eyes caught Jen’s. If looks could kill…
    Brett laughed. A carefree kid’s laugh. “Bare ass naked? What do you think, Jenny Wren? You want me to model for you too?”
    Deliberately Jen took a frankfurter and jabbed the end of a wire hanger into it. Brett laughed again.
    “Brett,” Adam said quietly. That was all, but the air seemed to go out of Brett’s balloon. He made a face and headed for the space on the log between Joel and me.
    “Adam thinks I’m a bad boy, Joel.” Then to me he confided, “Joel knows how bad a boy I can be. Joel used to get off on spanking me.”
    Vince inhaled beer and began coughing.
    Joel’s face turned livid in the firelight. He rose and stalked away on the pretext of gathering more driftwood.
    “Jesus,” I muttered.
    I thought that Joel’s pain didn’t stem from the embarrassment of having known Brett in his trade days, so much as the fact that he still cared for him—was eaten alive with lust and jealousy.
    “You’re a little shit,” Micky informed Brett pleasantly.
    Brett swung his sights her way. He chanted softly, “Oh Micky you’re so fine. You’re so fine, you blow my mind. Oh Micky!”
    Micky smiled a smile I didn’t trust.
    I drank my beer and wondered how soon I could decently leave.

Chapter Four
     
     
    A fter this everyone seemed very much preoccupied with handing out picnic plates and flatware. The discussion was restricted to Jell-O salad and how everyone wanted their hotdogs cooked.
    “Come on, Kyle,” Brett said, openly bored. “Shall we see sea shells down by the seashore?” He linked his arm in mine and drew me to my feet. I glanced around the faces circling the fire. Only Adam watched us.
    Brett tugged on my hand. I decided I’d do everyone a favor and I let him drag me off.
    The water creamed inches from our feet as we walked along the shoreline. Brett didn’t seem to feel the cold. He nattered on cheerfully, maliciously, about Vince, about Joel, about everyone except the one person I would have liked to hear about.
    We walked a ways till we rounded Smuggler’s Point, the rocks cutting us off from view of the others. Brett headed for the lichen-crusted boulders; I followed. We sat down and he took out a pack of cigarettes, offering them. I shook my head. He tapped one and lit it. He inhaled and blew a smoke ring. It floated delicately away on the night air.
    “Smoke bother you?” he asked after a time.
    “No.”
    He blew another smoke ring. “You’re okay, Kylie,” he said at last. “I was prepared to hate your guts, but actually you’re the only one of these assholes that’s remotely human.”
    “Wow. Thanks.”
    He gave an odd laugh. Took another puff. “How bad’s your heart anyway?”
    After an astonished moment I said, “Well, I washed out of NASA. I’m okay for normal living.”
    “Whatever that