“Which is why,” Theo interjected, “it’s so meaningful that he picked this particular kind of plant to do in detail. It’s not unintentional.”

Clyde looked at him, then the painting. “What isn’t?”

“That you chose Verbus intriculatus,” Theo told him, taking a sip of his own drink. Red wine, naturally. To Ivy, he explained, “It’s a plant native solely to this area. A sort of winter wheat, raised not for feed but for cover when the soil is overused and undernourished. It basically heals the ground.”

We all looked at the painting again. I was trying to make out Clyde’s expression, but honestly couldn’t. There were quite a few people gathered around now, although whether because of the camera or the art history lesson was hard to say.

“So on a basic level,” Theo continued, “it’s a plant that coaxes something almost dead back to life. Which echoes what Clyde was saying earlier about his mind-set, the sense of exhaustion and sadness. And that it’s captured in such close, painstaking detail . . . it conveys both a sense of defeat and perverse hope.”

“Interesting,” I heard someone murmur behind me.

“Defeat and hope,” someone else agreed. “I wouldn’t have ever gotten that.”

I looked at Clyde again. This time, there was no question what he was feeling, and it wasn’t defeat or hope. He looked pissed. I glanced at Ivy, who met my eyes for a second, then flicked her gaze to Esther, making sure she was filming.

“That’s a lot to get from a plant,” Clyde said to Theo. “Don’t you think?”

“Not necessarily,” Theo replied, confident as always. “You do like to weave symbolism into your work. It’s just a matter of cracking the code.”

Clyde’s eyes widened. Uh-oh, I thought. Then I felt the tap on my shoulder. I turned around to see Morris, his face flushed. Immediately, I glanced over at the bar, still crowded with people.

“Amber and your mom took over,” he told me, before I could even ask. Man, things had changed. “Have you seen Benji?”

“Benji?” I asked. “He left at four, with my father.”

“He was supposed to,” he told me. “He never showed up at the car.”

“He’s gone?”

“I don’t know,” he replied. “He’s just not with your father, who can’t find him anywhere.”

“Oh my God,” I said, looking around. “He’s got to be here someplace. You know he wanted to stay.”

“Your mom and Amber looked already. Your dad’s searching now. Me and Daisy are heading outside right now to check the boardwalk.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to think. “Where’s my father?”

“Driving around, I think. But—”

We were interrupted, suddenly, by Clyde’s voice. “Hey! Morris!”

Everyone was looking at us. Whoops. “Sorry for the disturbance,” Morris said. “We just—”

“Can you answer a question for me?” Clyde asked him. “It’ll only take a second.”

Morris looked at me, and I shrugged. “Sure,” he said.

Clyde stepped closer to the painting, pointing to one of the plants. “What is this?”

I saw Ivy look at Theo, who just took another sip of his wine.

“Beach grass,” Morris replied.

“Where is it found, exactly?”

Morris looked at him like he was crazy. “Everywhere. You know that. You’re always complaining there’s so much of it outside your bedroom you can’t even see the water.”

I was pretty sure I heard Ivy snort.

Clyde smiled. “Exactly.”

“Can I go now?” Morris asked. “I have something I have to do.”

“Me too,” I said. “Excuse us.”

He turned, starting for the door, and I followed, taking in the crowd as I went. I was almost outside when I spotted Margo, eating a canapé by one of the gray paintings, and made a beeline for her.

“I need your help,” I told her. “Benji’s run off and my father can’t find him.”

“What?” She put her plate down on nearby table. “How long has he been missing?”

“An hour? Two? I have to go help look for him.”

“Of course. I’ve got my car right outside, I can—”

“No,” I told her. “I need you here.”

“Here?”

I glanced around the room again, then at my watch. “Things are running pretty smoothly right now, but we’re low on food and Clyde still has to make a speech. He wants to do that in about ten minutes.”

“Ten minutes,” she repeated.

“Take this,” I said, pushing my legal pad at her. “It’s got the entire schedule on it. Check in with Ivy and tell her you’re me until further notice. She will probably yell at you, but I know you can handle it.”

“I . . .” She paused, then smiled. “Okay. Thank you, Emaline.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I said. “I have to go. Call me if you see Benji!”

She nodded, patting my arm as I went past her, towards the door. Right before I left, I turned to take one last gaze at what I’d done, so I would remember it. Then I went to look for my brother.

*   *   *

“I don’t understand this,” my father said, scanning the road again. “This town is tiny. Where could he possibly be?”