Everywhere she looked she saw silver bubbles against azure. Rising with them, she broke the surface and watched as the cabin cruiser continued southward. She’d been leaning against the stern gunwale, one tanned hand resting on a cleat. Mesmerized by the churning foam blossoming and fading into the deep blue water, Adele hadn’t sensed an approach.

She certainly never anticipated the splayed hand that pushed just enough between her shoulder blades to vault her over the edge. Adele watched as her gin and tonic arced into the wake before she hit the water. Instinct sealed her eyes and mouth as she hit hard and skipped upon the water before sinking, dazed.

She kicked, following the mercurial bubbles. After shedding her linen dress, she began to swim toward the beach, wondering which of her brothers had pushed her. Calculating just how she would get back to Mother’s house before they docked at the marina, Adele hoped she would believe her, that she was pushed and that it wasn’t just another drunken accident.

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