“The casita walls?” I asked.

“We’re turning that building into Daniel’s home sales office before high season starts,” she said.

She didn’t wait for an answer.

She took her car keys off the brass hook by the door and walked right out to the driveway, letting the heavy door latch behind her.

By two in the afternoon, the sun had slid past the roofline and laid long blue shadows across the patio tiles.

Caleb was on his knees by the pool filter, holding a plastic bucket with a cracked green rim.