7
Kate lay in bed in the guest room of the Sea Garden Suite.
It was on the third floor of the Ocean House, where Hadley and CeCe lived, and her gaze kept drifting toward the terrace.
On this bright summer morning, she squeezed her eyes tight to keep herself from seeing the snow that had been falling that December day Conor had proposed to her.
She would do anything to block that memory right now.
She hadn’t slept all night, but early that morning she had started to doze.
Then, around eight, the sound of sirens woke her up.
She couldn’t tell where they were coming from, but she knew that someone was having an emergency.
Whenever she heard a siren, she remembered her mother’s death, her sister’s murder, and how police had closed in on the scenes.
It was one big PTSD-fest. Her saving grace was that Conor had been there for her.
He had stepped into her life at those times of tragedy.
She had wondered why she was still alive, when her mother and sister were dead. Conor had pulled her from those depths of despair, made her feel that she wasn’t alone, that life was a gift. He had made her want to be here on earth, with him, looking forward to whatever came next.
And now, all of that had fallen apart. She tossed in bed, wishing she didn’t have to think at all.
Images flashed in and out of her mind—the little silver ring, the glee in Belinda’s face, the blue eyes of that baby.
The blue eyes that reminded her of Conor—the ones she had loved so much, that had promised her they would be together forever.
Eventually she reluctantly got up and went into the dining area of the suite, where Hadley and CeCe were having breakfast. They offered her some, but she wasn’t hungry.
They left the table, and she heard them talking, moving about, Hadley getting CeCe into her bathing suit, but she’d barely registered any of it.
July sunlight glanced sharply off the ocean and streamed through the tall windows. The French doors were open to the terrace, and the sound of the waves came through, beckoning her outside, but she couldn’t bear that idea.
The memories she had blocked while lying in bed came forth so clearly now, she had to let them in.
The suite’s terrace was where Conor had proposed during that epic blizzard on Christmas Eve.
There had been a holiday party here in the Sea Garden Suite, with dancing and champagne and twinkling lights on the tree.
Hadley had gathered friends and family together, to create a happy holiday for CeCe—for all of them.
Kate and Conor left everyone by the fire and stepped outside, onto the terrace.
The snow and wind had momentarily stopped, and there was a short spell of calm in the heart of the blizzard.
They had stood by the rail, thinking of how fierce the storm had been and how clear and still it was at that moment.
They could see the five windmills on the far side of Block Island, miles across the water, gently blinking red.
And then Conor started to tell her why he had brought her to the Ocean House. Right in the middle of his proposal, he discovered he’d lost the engagement ring. He started to panic, and Kate laughed. She held out her hand, and in her palm was the sapphire-and-diamond ring she was wearing right now.
“You dropped it,” she told him. In the living room, when he had been giving CeCe a gift.
So he took it from her and put it on her finger, and they kissed. That was the moment she had believed that, after everything that had happened to her, life was good and safe. That she and Conor loved each other so much, they would protect each other till the end of time.
It had meant so much to both of them that they had gotten engaged on this seaside terrace, while people they loved were just inside: Tom and Jackie, Hadley and CeCe.
When the time came to plan their wedding, they knew it had to be right here, at the Ocean House, the site of that magical evening, just after the blizzard.
And they knew that the people who had been there with them, the first to see Kate’s ring and hear that they were getting married, would be here for them, be part of the ceremony. There had been no doubt in their minds.
“Are you okay?” Hadley said from across the room. She had barely left Kate alone all day.
“Where’s CeCe?” Kate asked. She’d been there just a minute ago.
“I asked Sam to take her to the beach so you and I could talk.”
“I don’t really have much to say,” Kate said.
“I can imagine,” Hadley said. “But I know you didn’t sleep all night, and you didn’t have breakfast, and you look totally shell shocked. I’m worried about you.”
Kate’s eyes welled up. It was times like this she missed her sister, Beth.
Of all the people she knew on the planet, Hadley was the only one who really understood what that was like—to have a sister stolen, to have her life taken away by a murderer.
Hadley got it. Like Kate, she knew more than anyone should about loss.
“I guess I am shell shocked,” Kate said. “I’ve never trusted anyone the way I trusted Conor. He’s the best man I’ve ever known. He’s so good, and he made me feel so loved. But now . . . it all feels like a lie.”
“But you don’t know for sure that it is a lie,” Hadley said.
Kate knew what Hadley was getting at. After Belinda’s bombshell last night, Kate had run off, come straight up here, and hadn’t given Conor the chance to explain himself.
She had spent the night in Hadley and CeCe’s guest room.
She hadn’t seen Conor or returned to the Tower Suite, their home for this wedding weekend; they hadn’t talked.
He had knocked on the door—or at least she assumed it had been him—and she’d asked Hadley not to answer it.
She kept thinking of that moment after the rehearsal dinner, after Belinda had shown her the photo. Kate knew him so well, she had been able to read his expression, and the way he’d said her name, when she’d asked him, “Is it true?” Talking wouldn’t change that.
“It just feels unreal,” Kate said.
“Kate, everyone has a past. Do you really think you’re the only one he’s ever been with? Haven’t you had boyfriends before Conor?”
“Of course, and I know he had other girlfriends before he met me. But I didn’t have their children.”
“That woman seemed crazy,” Hadley said. “To pull a stunt like that in front of a crowd. At your rehearsal dinner? I wouldn’t believe anything she said.”
Kate didn’t want to, but she pictured the baby’s blue eyes.
Plenty of people in the population had them, but when she put it together with that silver ring, Belinda’s tone of possession, and Conor’s reaction, she was tilting in and out of believing her.
Her father had cheated on her mother, and it was how her family blew up.
She had always believed she had an unwanted talent—accurate radar for betrayal—because she had grown up with it.
“Can you tell how old Belinda is in the photo?” Hadley asked.
“A lot younger than now,” Kate said.
“The timing would make a huge difference,” Hadley said. “Because if it was before you and Conor were together . . .”
Kate wrapped her arms around herself; she was shaking, and she couldn’t stop.
She knew what Hadley was saying: It wouldn’t be fair of Kate to hold Conor responsible for something that had happened years before he’d met her.
But a baby? How could he not have told her?
Belinda’s revelation had been such a bombshell; she should have talked to him right then, heard him out, but she’d gone straight into shock. Now she was ready.
“You’re shivering,” Hadley said. “Are you cold?”
Kate nodded. “Isn’t that weird? On this beautiful summer day?”
“It’s the salt breeze coming through the door,” Hadley said, although Kate knew that wasn’t true. She watched Hadley cross the room, start the cozy fire. It blazed in the hearth the way it had the Christmas Eve before last.
“What time is it?” Kate asked.
Hadley glanced at the screen of her mobile phone. “Almost noon,” she said.
Kate closed her eyes. “Our wedding is supposed to start in five hours.”
“It still could, Kate,” Hadley said.
Kate knew that Hadley was right—they could still get married. They could wipe the slate clean and start life over right now. She and Conor had chased away plenty of demons in their time together. But this one was different.
“Not till I talk to him,” Kate said.
Hadley looked at her long and hard, then reached over and gave her a hug.
Kate glanced across the living room at Foggy Night.
When Belinda fell, she had broken the frame and torn the canvas.
There was a long vertical tear, straight through the ghostly lighthouse that James Suydam had so poetically painted.
One of the Ocean House staff had delivered it here last night, after the rehearsal dinner’s awful end.
“I want to take the painting upstairs,” Kate said. “I’ll wrap it up so Maeve can take it to the conservator.”
“I’m glad you’re going to keep it,” Hadley said. “And I hope Conor is there so you can talk this out.”
“So do I,” Kate said. She hoped she would find him there.
It was an unbreakable habit—to love him so much and be excited about seeing him.
This time it was tempered by a million other feelings.
She wanted to yell at him, make him tell her what went on between him and Belinda.
She felt humiliated by last night’s scene, but that was nothing compared to feeling betrayed by Conor.
She stood to go, lifted the painting as carefully as she could to avoid damaging it further. Hadley followed her to the door, and Kate saw her pick up her key card from the table in the foyer.
“Where are you going?” Kate asked.
“Up to the Tower Suite, with you,” Hadley said.
“You don’t have to,” Kate said.
“Yes, I do. I’m sticking with you,” Hadley said.
Kate didn’t feel like arguing. They walked to the beautiful old elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor.
The door slid open, and they headed to the Tower Suite.
Now Kate’s heart was really racing. Conor had to be there, waiting for her.
She imagined facing him, him assuring her that Belinda had been lying.
Both of them wishing they could go back twenty-four hours, go back to the way they’d been before last night.
She unlocked the door, stepped into the foyer, and called his name. She listened for his footsteps upstairs on the suite’s main floor, for him running down to hug her.
But nothing. It was silent. Conor wasn’t there.
She tried to hide how upset she felt from Hadley, but that was impossible. She walked into the bedroom, the blue accents bringing the sky and ocean inside. Housekeeping had made the bed, straightened up the room so well it looked as if she and Conor had never even stayed there at all.
The closet loomed straight ahead. Her palms felt sweaty; she put the painting on the bed.
Then she went to the closet. She stood in front of the closed door for several long seconds.
She knew her wedding gown was inside, hanging in its garment bag.
She thought of how much she loved the dress, how exquisite the fabric and details.
She took a deep breath, pulled the closet door open, and looked inside.
It was gone. There was no sign of the garment bag, of the dress, of anything to remind her of the fact that she was supposed to get married today.
Until she got upstairs and saw her veil, cut into a million tiny pieces.
She gasped and ran to it, trying to gather all the shreds, as if she could put them back together.
She heard a knock on the suite’s door.
“I’ll get it,” Hadley said.
Kate didn’t know who it could be, and she was too stunned by Conor’s absence, the empty closet, and the destroyed veil to really care. Then, through the fog in her mind, she heard Maeve’s voice. It was high and wild, and the words Maeve cried rang in Kate’s ears.
“They took Conor to the police station,” Maeve was saying, as Kate walked into the foyer.
“What are you talking about?” Kate asked.
“She was wearing your dress, Kate! He slit her throat, and it turned red with her blood, the darkest red I’ve ever seen,” Maeve said, the words spilling out. “She’s dead!”
“Maeve, who’s dead? Who was wearing my dress?”
“Belinda,” Maeve said. “She was murdered, and they’re saying Conor did it.”