Page 22 of The Summer that Changed Everything
But he knew that after the way he’d behaved before, she wouldn’t want anything to do with him, so he eventually put his phone away.
Lucy hadn’t felt so conspicuous in ages. She’d gone to the grocery store to pick up some fresh basil for the pasta dish she planned to make for supper, and while she was there got the distinct impression that the gazes of the people she encountered were following her as she passed.
She told herself she was imagining it. Shehadto be. She didn’t recognize many of those at the store. And if there were people shedidrecognize, she quickly skirted around them—widely, so they wouldn’t have the chance to speak to her. But she was no longer the anonymous person she’d turned into after she left North Hampton Beach and changed her name. That was clear. Not only had she come out into the open, she’d painted a big target on her back. But she needed to ask the tough questions no one wanted to hear, let alone answer.
As soon as she found the basil, she hurried to the checkout register, but while she was waiting to pay, one of the police officers who’d come to the trailer to arrest her father got in line behind her. Only five years older than she was, he’d been young in those days, too, and new on the force. She remembered how shocked and horrified he’d been by her father’s crime—not that he could’ve been any more shocked than she was. Still, he’d studied her that day as if she might be so contaminated she’d become radioactive, so she’d hoped he didn’t recognize her. But as she stepped up to the register, he said, “Dahlia mentioned you were coming back.”
She pretended not to hear him. The cashier gave her thetotal and she stuck her credit card in the processing machine. But that didn’t deter him.
“What brings you to North Hampton Beach after so long?” he asked, speaking more loudly.
The register spat out her receipt. Although the cashier hesitated because she, too, could hear him talking, she ultimately handed it over, probably because there was nothing else to do and she was required to continue through the line.
Before Lucy could get more than a step away, however, he said her name emphatically enough that everyone in the immediate vicinity turned to look at them. She was afraid he’d just follow her out into the parking lot if she didn’t respond, so she drew a deep breath and turned, and that was when she saw his nametag. He’d become chief of police in her absence. “Just minding my own business,” she mumbled.
“Not from what I hear,” he replied.
She raised her eyebrows. “What does that mean?”
“It means I don’t want you digging up the past. That’s what it means.”
She stepped back in surprise. As long as she didn’t break any laws, could he dictate what she did in North Hampton Beach? “If you’re so convinced we already have the truth, there’s nothing to be afraid of, right?”
“No, that’s not right. It’s taken a long time for this community to heal. Having you come back and destroy what peace of mind the Clark family’s been able to cobble together won’t serve any good purpose.”
The Clark family... Was he truly worried about them? Or was he more worried about the reputation of the force he now headed?
A bead of sweat rolled between her breasts, partially from the heat and humidity and partially from the anxiety that held her in a viselike grip. Over the years, she’d had so many nightmares in which she was suddenly and inexplicably back in NorthHampton Beach and everyone was pointing and screaming at her:Murderer! You’re just as bad as he is!“Even if my father didn’t kill Aurora?” she challenged.
“You’re the only one who’s willing to believe that.”
“What if I can prove it?” She was a long way from being able to do that. She wished she could suck the words back into her mouth as soon as they passed her lips. But she shouldn’t have worried. He didn’t call her bluff. His mind was already made up, despite any new “proof” she purported to have.
“You can’t, so don’t even try,” he said.“Do you understand?”
The narrowing of his eyes added enough heft to his words to indicate the conversation was over. He’d spoken, and she’d better listen. So what would he do if she didn’t?
She had no way to answer that question. She certainly hadn’t expected the police to help her once she got here. She’d assumed they’d turn a deaf ear to her insistence that they got it wrong, at least in one regard, fifteen years ago.
But she also hadn’t expected them to actively work against her.
Apparently, she’d underestimated the friendships and loyalties that were so often formed in a small town like this. “Or... what?” she asked, hearing the threat even though he didn’t actually voice one.
He blinked several times. He obviously didn’t like that she’d dared to question him. But he seemed conscious of the fact that they had an audience. His gaze slid to those who were gawking at them before he focused, once again, on her. “I’m telling you this for your own good,” he replied. “After all, I wouldn’t want your stay this summer to be too... unpleasant.”
Although that, too, wasn’t an overt threat, the subtext took his words much further. Whatsheheard was, “Then I won’t be responsible for what happens to you.”
“Thanks for the warning,” she said drily, but before she could escape the store, she heard someone else call out, “Go back to wherever you came from. You’re not welcome here!”
Lucy lay awake, staring at the ceiling and going over—word for word—her exchange with the chief of police. The spectacle he’d caused in the grocery store made her cringe. How unlucky that Kevin Claxton was still in town and played such a big role in the power paradigm around here. He was obviously prejudiced against her and her father—understandably in her father’s case. But didn’t he see how blinding that prejudice could be?
She wasn’t convinced he cared one way or the other. Self-righteous, closed-minded people generally didn’t consider the possibility of being wrong. But he also had a good reason to prefer to leave things as they were, and she was well aware of it. The police had been widely praised for solving the murders that occurred that summer so quickly. If the narrative suddenly switched, and it came out that Reggie had indeed lied, it would shame and embarrass the department to have relied on him, a jailhouse snitch, to get a conviction in Aurora’s murder—make them look like the bumbling stereotype of a small-townMayberry R.F.D.type of force. That was probably closer to the truth, at least in some ways. They certainly weren’t experienced or sophisticated, and they had limited resources and funding.
But how far would Claxton go to stop her from picking through the rubble of what transpired fifteen years ago?
Was she sure she wanted to find out? Should she pack up and go home?
The echo of the woman who’d yelled after her reverberated in her ears—Go back to wherever you came from. You’re not welcome here. But she couldn’t allow herself to consider bailing out at every turn, or shewouldgive up and go home. She’d put herself to a lot of trouble—even reconnected with her father, which she’d sworn she’d never do—to right this wrong.
