9
Ford didn’t sleep well. Every time the cool ocean breeze rustled the curtains of his bedroom, making it a tolerable temperature,
he thought of Lucy in that closed-up, stifling house. At least, when necessary, he could resort to turning on the air conditioner.
The Smoot cottage was older and didn’t have one. He couldn’t imagine how she was able to get any sleep. No wonder she’d gone into the ocean so late at night. The cool water was probably her only respite.
When he got up the next morning, he carried a cup of coffee out to the porch to watch the sunrise and automatically looked
for her in the surf.
She wasn’t there. He told himself he was glad. She’d been pretty caustic with him last night. He was going through enough
in his own life. He’d only been in town for five days. He’d been keeping up with work, but he hadn’t even started dealing
with any of that. He’d be better off staying out of the fight that was brewing between her and the Clarks—and probably a lot
of other people around here.
And yet... he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. The memories he’d locked away, including the shame and regret he felt for the type of “friend” he’d proven to be, rolled over him like the waves crashing onto the beach, only to retract and hit again and again.
A figure appeared in the distance. Someone was walking toward him, coming from the opposite direction of the Smoot cottage.
It wasn’t Lucy. He could tell that immediately.
He squinted, trying to get a better look and saw a golden retriever come bounding through the surf. It was Chet with Eddie.
Leaving his coffee on the table, he walked out to say hello.
Eddie reached him first. Ford gave the retriever a scratch behind the ears as Chet caught up to them. Ford missed his own
dog, Mo, a French bulldog his wife had insisted on keeping because he’d given it to her for their anniversary, even though
he’d mostly been the one to love and take care of it.
“Morning.”
As soon as Ford straightened, Eddie darted off again, too excited about exploring to stand still for long. “Morning.”
“You’re up early,” Chet commented.
“So are you.”
He responded with a wry grin. “I’m an artist. You know... the emotive, conflicted type who goes from one existential crisis
to another?”
“What deep issue are you contemplating today?” Ford asked, playing along.
“Just thinking about Lucy.”
“McBride? Still?”
“Hard to avoid it. Having her back is all anyone around here can talk about. Have you seen her yet?”
Not only had Ford seen her, he’d spoken to her, but he figured it was best not to mention that. It’d just keep the gossip
and conjecture going, might even cause people to wonder if they’d meant to rendezvous here. Patti Clark had already insinuated as much. If he wasn’t careful, others could join that bandwagon and might even start claiming that Lucy was the reason for the breakup of his marriage. Never mind that he hadn’t talked to her in fifteen years. People could create a scandal out of anything. “No, have you?” he replied.
“Nah. But in case you’re interested, I now know what she’s up to.”
Ford hadn’t yet donned a shirt—hadn’t showered yet, either. He’d gotten up, brushed his teeth and pulled on the same shorts
he’d worn last night. “I’m interested,” he said while trying to smooth down his hair. “What’s she up to?”
“She doesn’t think her father’s guilty and is out to prove it.”
“Guilty of what?” he asked, trying to get Chet to clarify.
“Anything!”
Ford dropped the hand he’d been using on his hair. “Who told you that?”
“It’s what everyone’s saying.” He spread his hands. “Never mind that McBride’s DNA was found under Tony Matteo’s fingernails.”
It was starting—the same old bullshit and misinformation, if not downright lies. Ford felt his muscles tighten but nudged
a small pebble lose with his bare toe. “I can’t imagine she’d contest that.”
“And yet she is. You remember Reggie Burton—the guy who was McBride’s cellmate right after he was arrested and ended up testifying
against him?”
“Of course. He was a big part of the trial.”
“Well, he says she came over to his place and was harassing him, insisting he was lying on the stand and that’s why her father
went to prison.”
Ford started to laugh.
“What?” Chet said, looking confused.
“Have you seen Reggie?”
Chet seemed surprised by this turn in the conversation. “Here and there.”
“I haven’t. Not in person. But just going from what I saw on Instagram last night—all the pictures he’s posted—he has to be almost as tall as I am and at least fifty pounds heavier.”
“So?”
“Do you remember Lucy? My guess is she weighs one hundred fifteen pounds soaking wet. So, if you were Reggie, would you be
afraid of her?”
“Maybe,” Chet responded with an uncomfortable laugh. “I mean we know she’s vengeful, or she wouldn’t have put her father up
to murdering Aurora.”
Ford shook his head, adamant. “Stop!”
Chet shoved his hands in the pockets of his loose-fitting khakis, which were rolled up at the ankles. “Stop what?”
“Saying she had anything to do with it is just... ridiculous!”
“Only if you don’t want to believe it.”
“Let’s wait until she does something to indicate she’s not a good person before we close ranks against her this time, huh?”
Apparently, the irritation Ford was feeling had come out in his voice, because Chet took a step back. “That’s fine—as long
as she doesn’t get too close to me or my family.”
Ford scowled. This was the kind of reaction that’d caused everyone to treat Lucy so poorly before. “Chet, I don’t think she’s
a risk to you or anyone else, except maybe Reggie, and only because she’s out to expose him. If he was lying about her father’s
jailhouse confession, he might have something to worry about. But that’s it. She doesn’t think her father’s innocent of the
Matteo murders—only Aurora’s.”
Chet’s eyes widened. “How do you know what she’s thinking? And, for that matter, what she looks like these days? Have you
talked to her, after all?”
“Yes,” he admitted. “Last night.”
“Why didn’t you say so?”
Ford made an impatient gesture. “I want to stay out of it. That’s why.”
“Then... why don’t you?” he asked.
“Because what happened to her fifteen years ago was bullshit, and I won’t let it go that way again!” he snapped and strode
off.
Ford slammed the door behind him as he returned to the house. Apparently, he wasn’t going to take his own advice. He’d decided
to stay out of Lucy’s business—she’d made it clear she didn’t want him in it—and yet he’d just taken a stand with Chet that
put him solidly on her side.
But he was the only one on her side and that was what had forced his hand. The fact that he hadn’t stood up for her fifteen years ago made him
cringe every time he thought about it. He was determined never to make that mistake again— never to feel as though he should’ve stopped someone from being mistreated or bullied and hadn’t done it. He didn’t want to be
the kind of man that would make him. So... whether she wanted his help or not, he was now her official protector.
As if fate had set out to remind him that he should be paying more attention to his own problems, he found an email from his
divorce attorney waiting for him as soon as he opened his laptop.
Christina’s lawyer has sent me another certified letter. She’s raised her demands yet again. She’s claiming the pregnancy
is already a “difficult” one, which will make it impossible for her to work. Do you want to raise your offer?
He pinched the bridge of his nose while battling an avalanche of anger and frustration. Christina didn’t want to work. Almost as soon as he’d met her, she conjured up an excuse to quit Wagner Business Solutions and depended on her father until they married. Then she’d lived off him. She could easily rely on her family’s fortune once again, if she wanted to. Instead, she was using her father’s expensive attorney to take him for as much as she could get. This was about revenge for wanting to get away from her, not the pregnancy or fairness or anything else.
It doesn’t cost nearly as much to live as what I offered. She could have a mansion, a maid and a nanny. She’s trying to take
advantage. The answer is no.
He knew his response would only prolong the fight, which meant she’d be front and center in his life that much longer. But
now that she was having his baby, he’d never truly be free of her. He figured he might as well fight for what was right, especially
because this would set the precedent for everything she demanded from now on.
He tried to calm down by switching his attention to work. Writing and forwarding various emails to people with instructions
on how to proceed took hours. The routine of it helped. But he was still bugged when he was done, so he went on Instagram,
found Reggie’s account and sent him a DM.
Just so you know, I’m keeping an eye on you. Don’t you dare do anything that’ll make Lucy McBride’s time here any worse than
it will be already.
He waited, hoping Reggie would get back to him. He was itching to tell everyone they’d better stay the hell away from her.
But after fifteen minutes with no response, he ran out of patience. He felt like a caged tiger, pacing back and forth.
Obviously, he needed another outlet, a healthier one, so he went to get what was left of his gardening tools and returned
to what had brought him the most satisfaction in ages—the Smoot yard.
Chet couldn’t feel his face. His lips, his cheeks—everything tingled or felt numb. Would this summer be the end of life as he knew it? The big reveal he’d had nightmares about, where the truth came out, costing him his job, his wife and child, his entire future?
“Honey? Are you listening?”
He tuned in to Kira once again. She was sitting across from him at Lanie’s Grocery and Deli with Kenzie, their baby, sleeping
in a carrier at their feet. Chet generally looked forward to returning to North Hampton Beach each summer. Sure, it held some
terrible memories—the one night in his life he wished he could forget more than any other, as well as the tension-filled weeks
right after that when he’d been terrified the police would arrive at any moment to take him to jail.
But returning regularly gave him the chance to take the temperature of this place—check on what people were thinking and feeling
and make sure nothing was creeping up on him from behind. He also believed that being a familiar face, one most people around
here knew and trusted, would make it much less likely that they’d ever suspect him of having any involvement in what transpired
the night Aurora was killed.
“Yes, of course,” he replied, trying to act as normal as he could. Lanie’s served the best blue crab sandwiches in the world,
but today he couldn’t taste anything. He was having trouble swallowing—even breathing. Just when he’d finally begun to believe
the past was a closed chapter, that the actions he so regretted would never come back to haunt him, he was afraid that would
all change. That after being saved by such a crazy stroke of luck, he’d be found out because of something just as unlikely—Lucy
returning here after so many years, claiming her father hadn’t killed Aurora.
“I was asking how much you remember about the girl who was murdered.”
Although it went down hard, he managed to swallow the food in his mouth. It didn’t surprise him that Kira wanted to discuss what’d happened fifteen years ago. With Lucy back in town, everyone was talking about the murders. “Not a lot,” he said. “I mean... Aurora was part of the group we hung out with on the beach that summer. But there was never anything between her and me. She was kind of stuck-up. Thought she was all that. So I didn’t have any interest in her.” He used his napkin to wipe his mouth so it wouldn’t seem unnatural when he broke eye contact. “She liked Ford, anyway.”
Kira shook her head, frowning sadly. “He must’ve been destroyed when she was killed.”
“I think he was shocked, like the rest of us. But they weren’t together. He was seeing Lucy at the time.”
Her jaw dropped. “The daughter of the man who murdered Aurora? Why haven’t you ever mentioned that before?”
Still striving for normalcy, he took another bite and spoke around it. “I’m sure I have.”
“No. I would’ve remembered. I’m surprised you haven’t said more about all of it, to be honest.”
He didn’t like thinking about it, let alone talking about it. He was afraid he’d slip up and say something he shouldn’t. But
when he and Kira first got married, and he’d started bringing her to North Hampton Beach, someone had mentioned the murders
that’d occurred here, so he’d filled in a few of the blanks. After all, being too reticent could seem as odd as talking about
it all the time. He had to hit the right balance. “It’s not something I’m eager to relive, I guess.”
The vision that passed before his mind’s eye nearly unsettled his stomach. That happened occasionally. His mind would flash
the unforgettable image of Aurora as he’d seen her last, after he realized he’d gone too far. “Everyone was freaked out—they
were afraid to come out of their houses at night.”
Kira used a straw to drain her iced tea. “Did you ever meet him?”
“McBride? No. But I saw him at his trial.”
She slid her chair back a few inches. “You attended the trial?”
“Almost everyone did. It was a big deal around here, worth the short drive to Montross.” It was an even bigger deal to him. He’d been worried that the state wouldn’t be able to prove its case when it came to Aurora’s murder, prompting the police to keep digging.
But then Reggie had come forward, claiming Mick McBride had confessed to him while they were sharing a jail cell. Chet almost
couldn’t believe it. It’d felt like someone had been firing a gun in his direction and a mere bystander had stepped in front
of him to take the bullet.
“Oh, I didn’t know that.” Kenzie started to squirm, so Kira picked up their baby girl. “When do you want to have Ford over?
I’d like to meet him.”
Chet remembered Ford defending Lucy this morning and wondered where that would lead. It certainly didn’t bode well for him.
As long as the whole community remained united against her, he didn’t feel he had much to worry about. But if Ford decided
he believed her and wanted to help her get to the truth, everything could change. After all, Ford had the credibility and
resources Lucy lacked. “Why not this weekend?” he asked.
“Sounds good to me. Should we grill teriyaki shish kabobs?”
He didn’t answer. He just stared at her, studying the face that meant everything to him.
“What?” she said, growing self-conscious.
She had to be the most beautiful woman in the world. And the sweetest. He knew she’d never be able to believe he could be
responsible for someone’s death—and hoped to God she’d never have to find out. “I love you. You know that?”
“I know.” She smiled shyly as she rested Kenzie on her shoulder so she could reach across the table to squeeze his hand. “I
love you, too.”
Surely, the past wouldn’t reach into the present and destroy everything he’d established, would it? What purpose would it serve to punish him? He hadn’t set out to hurt anyone fifteen years ago, and he certainly hadn’t harmed anyone since. Sending him to prison for the rest of his life would only cause more harm, would break up his little family and shock his parents, friends and associates for nothing.
She gestured toward his phone on the table beside him. “Are you going to text Ford?”
He was afraid of his old friend, especially after this morning. But that was exactly why he needed to get and remain as close
to him as possible. “Sure.”