“Well, good morning, neighbor!” Mabel—my mom’s book club buddy, Starlight Cove’s sex toy dealer, and my too-nosy-for-her-own-damn-good neighbor—called from across the street. She wore her husband’s winter boots and a housecoat, her gray hair done up in rollers. “You’re looking a little worn down there, Chief.” “Thanks,” I muttered. I’d felt lucky when this house had come on the market at just the right time, but that had been before I’d realized who would be living across the street. I swore that woman set an alarm every morning just so she could witness my failures.
