Page 3 of The Summer that Changed Everything
“I’m sure there are many things that bother you about me,” he said wryly.
She wasn’t going to deny it. “This one had to do with Aurora Clark.”
“What about her?”
Aurora had been the most popular girl in high school. Born to wealthy parents who owned two art museums and a wine store in town, she’d also been interested in Ford Wagner, whom Lucy had been dating at the time. The fact that Lucy had disliked Aurora—for her aggressive pursuit of Ford and many other reasons—made it look as though he’d killed Aurora for her sake...
Maybe that was why this was so important to her. She was out to prove it wasn’t true as much as anything else. It couldn’tbe true. She’d only ever mentioned Aurora to him as a “mean girl.” Unless... had he overheard her on the phone? Picked up on more town gossip than she’d imagined? “You said they could try all they wanted to come up with evidence linking you to her case, but they wouldn’t find any.”
“Because I didn’t kill her,” he said simply.
He stated it as if she could take it for what it was worth—and somehow seemed credible. Could she believe him, though? All the self-help gurus she’d followed on YouTube over the years would tell her she couldn’t. Before that fateful summer, there hadn’t been a murder in North Hampton Beach since forever. Then, suddenly, three bodies showed up within weeks of each other. What were the chances that there’d be two active killers at almost the same time?
Very small. Lucy understood that. She played poker for a living, calculated the odds oneverything.
And yet... There were always outliers. Odds only predicted what wasmost likelytrue.
“You killed Tony and Lucinda.” Even she could hear the petulant accusation in her voice. “Why should I believe you about Aurora?”
He seemed world-weary when he answered. “You are the only thing I’ve ever cared about in my entire life, Lucy. But what I did created a permanent divide between us. Are you going to feel the way you once did about me if I killed one less person?” He chuckled humorlessly. “No. And I’m not going to torment myself by wanting it.” He jerked his head to indicate their surroundings. “You stay in here long enough, you grow numb. I told you when they took me away that I never wanted to see you again, and I meant it. I couldn’t face the pain and disappointment in your eyes. That was the real punishment. But now that you’re here...” He sighed. “I’m telling you the truth.”
There was so much in his statement that hurt—that he honestly had, and maybe still did, care about her, that he knew betterthan to even hope she could ever love him back, that by taking other people’s lives he’d essentially given up his own.
Flinching against those emotional daggers, she told herself to focus on the information instead. “If you didn’t do it, who did?”
He met and held her gaze. “Hell if I know. Butsomeone’sgetting away with murder. Maybeyoucare about that,” he said and hung up the receiver, signaling the end of the conversation.
2
May 21
Virginia
Ford Wagner stood on the beach, facing the sea, and closed his eyes as he drew the salt air into his lungs. God, he’d missed this place. He’d spent all his childhood summers in North Hampton Beach—had such magical memories of the warm sand shifting beneath his feet, the icy surf rippling over his body, the melodic sound of the ice cream truck as it made its daily rounds and the sight of an egg-yolk sun peeking up over the horizon when he was so eager to hit the beach sleep was no longer an option.
As he’d grown older, there’d been parties and bonfires to attend, not to mention losing his virginity to the much older girl staying in the house next door. He even got his driver’s license while he was here, after learning to drive in the Jeep his parents had given him for his sixteenth birthday.
Those were the days... But so much had changed. First, there were the murders that’d taken place between his junior and senior years in high school. They’d stolen the innocence of this small community, cast a pall over everything—and freaked his mother out so much she refused to come back.
Then, just before he’d graduated from Brown University with his MBA, his parents had gone through a bitter divorce and his father had married a woman who was half his age. After spending eight turbulent years with her and having two more boys—a second family—he’d had a heart attack and died in January. Now his widow was contesting the will, attempting to get more money. And not just a little. She was going after the bulk of the estate—something he couldn’t even mention to his mother. Sara was so bitter about everything that’d happened, it would just send her back into therapy. And he couldn’t expect his brother, older by two years, to help carry the load. Houston was an alcoholic who’d be on the streets if not for the paycheck he received from Wagner Business Solutions for doing absolutely nothing and Sara letting him live with her. Ford had to run the family business, as well as fight the parasite attempting to attach herself to the family fortune—while going through a divorce himself.
The perfect, healthy, happy family he’d once had was now shattered and broken, and his soon-to-be ex-wife was pregnant, which absolutely terrified him. He’d always looked forward to having kids, but this was not how he wanted to start a family. Now he was facing a custody battle with a woman who’d proven herself to be so vengeful he suspected she’d quit taking her birth control pills on purpose.
When he opened his eyes, he felt as though he could see the pieces of his former life drifting in the ocean like debris after a shipwreck.
“Ford, is that you?”
He turned to find an old friend walking toward him—someone he hadn’t seen for years—a Frisbee in one hand, an empty leash in the other and a Labrador retriever trailing behind, sniffing at a pile of seaweed. “Chet! How are you, man? I had no idea you’d be here.”
“I still come every summer. My sisters are too busy with kidsin various sports, but as the baby of the family, I’m not involved in all of that quite yet. My wife and I use the house, and I get a few paintings done while I’m not in school teaching art classes. Then my folks, sisters and their families join us for a couple of weeks in August.”
“Where do you teach?”
“I’m in Baltimore these days, at a community college.”
“That’s great.” The last time he’d seen Chet Anthony was when they’d planned an Atlantic City meetup—together with a few other guys—during college. They’d all lived in different places and gone to different universities, so the only thing they’d had in common was summers in North Hampton Beach and that they came from mostly wealthy families, which was probably why, despite promises that it’d never happen, they’d drifted apart.
“I enjoy it—but would like to become successful enough with my own painting to do it full-time.”
