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out of the water.
    That Elena had chosen to fill the great room and pool area with two dozen potted gardenia bushes had not surprised Sabrina. There was no fussier nor more elegant flower than the gardenia. The cloud of fragrance that now filled Villa Nirvana screamed Elena’s name. Her bridal bouquet and Sean’s boutonniere, both made of gardenias, probably still sat in the extra refrigerator in the downstairs storage room, never to be worn by either. The tiny white diamond-like faerie lights, which would have sparkledaround the perimeter of the pool and the edges of the canopies above the tables, would never be lit. As much as Sabrina found Villa Nirvana ostentatious and vulgar, it made her sad to know the miniature replicas of it, which sat in the center of each table, with a candle inside ready to be lit, would remain dark.
    What a waste of time and energy. There would be no wedding banquet, no wedding. Her staff sat at another table, unusually quiet. Guests Sabrina didn’t know were scattered at other tables. She recognized Paul Blanchard, the company CFO, sitting alone at one. He’d been the only person invited to stay overnight at Villa Nirvana after the rehearsal dinner that Sabrina had yet to meet.
    “I’d prefer to wait in my room,” Gavin told Sergeant Detree, once again attempting to bypass her.
    “I don’t care what you prefer, sir. This is the scene of a police investigation and must be treated as such,” Detree said. Gavin turned around and found a seat next to Paul Blanchard, rather than join the immediate family.
    “At least let Sabrina get into some dry clothes and comb that mop of hair,” Henry said. He was always after Sabrina to tame her full head of shoulder-length curls. He had known her when her smooth hairstyle and chic clothes were provided by a television studio. Sabrina, on the other hand, loved that she no longer owned a hair dryer and that she dried her hair by driving with the windows open.
    Detree agreed to let Sabrina change, but not inside the house or in the cabana, which had dressing rooms just forthis purpose. Sabrina had to slip behind the rental jeeps and duck down for privacy as she threw on the generic black shift she wore to pick guests up at the ferry.
    She returned to the table where Henry sat with Sean, Kate, Jack, and Heather.
    “I’ve texted Neil to come over.” Henry leaned close to her ear as she sat down in one of those god-awful folding white chairs everyone thinks looks so darling in wedding pictures but is really like sitting on a sawhorse. She had tried to convince Elena to choose more comfortable chairs for the wedding, but the bride had preferred to make decisions based upon aesthetics.
    Sean cocked his head in their direction. “Neil Perry? I did the same.”
    “You texted Neil? Why? How do you know him?” Sabrina asked. She was occasionally uncomfortable with how little she really knew about the man many island friends considered her boyfriend, including her, at times. She had spent so much time denying her attraction to Neil that when she finally succumbed to his charm, his history seemed irrelevant. After several months of spending plenty of time together (mostly evenings after work when they would take a swim with Sabrina’s dog, Girlfriend, then share a meal and sometimes more), Sabrina had grown comfortable with Neil and their routine.
    But just recently, he had grown somewhat distant, like the night before when she knew he had to fill in for one of the bartenders at Bar None, the beach bar he owned.She’d offered to bring home some of the leftover tapas from the rehearsal dinner. Just a few weeks before, Neil would have been eager to come sit on her porch after work, sipping a nightcap, munching on leftovers. But last night, he’d said he’d prefer just to go home to his place once he was done with his late shift. Just when she had let her guard down and begun to trust him, he seemed preoccupied, and it felt like he was retreating. Sabrina