Page 95 of The Summer that Changed Everything
“I’m okay. And you?”
She gave him a warm smile. “I’m good.”
He hated the thought that this kind woman might have to learn something heart-wrenching about her husband. Surely, that wasn’t the case. More than anything else, Ford was hoping to obliterate the terrible suspicion that’d crept into his own heart. “Chet around?”
“He’s painting—determined to finish the sailboat picture he’sbeen working on.” She stepped back to make room. “Come in and I’ll tell him you’re here.”
Ford forced a smile, afraid she’d be able to tell something was wrong if he didn’t.
Kenzie was in her playpen, rolling around with toys that squished and jingled. For her sake, too, Ford hoped he was wrong to doubt Chet.
Chet came right away, hadn’t even taken the time to remove the apron he wore to protect his clothes. “Ford, what’s up?” he asked.
Kira had returned with him. Ford was conscious of her standing at her husband’s elbow. “I was wondering if you’d take a ride with me.”
Kira looked startled. The request had obviously tipped her off that Ford had something serious to discuss. But, surprisingly, Chet didn’t ask what it was. He took off his apron and handed it to her. “Sure.”
Ford led the way to the Land Rover, and they got in at the same time. He thought Chet might ask what this was all about, but he didn’t. He waited until Ford had pulled out of the drive and eventually headed away from town. The last thing Ford wanted to do was risk an interruption by running into someone they knew.
“Do you know what I want to talk to you about?” Ford asked once they hit the open highway.
“Of course not,” he replied. “How would I know?”
Ford looked for a place to turn off where he could stop the vehicle and see Chet’s face while they talked.
“Ford?” he prompted.
“Just a sec.” After turning down a rutted dirt lane, he parked behind the shelter of some trees. He wanted to have this conversation when he could focus on Chet.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone you returned the boat to the Zampinos’ dock?” Ford asked once he’d turned off the engine.
His eyes widened. “I already told you—because I forgot.”
“You realize how unlikely it is that you didn’t make the connection between Aurora’s death and the missing boat?”
“Unlikely doesn’t make it untrue!”
“Did you take Aurora out on the river that night?”
“No!”
“She texted Stephanie Beaumont, telling her you were going to.”
He blinked several times, obviously registering this information, before saying, “Iwasgoing to, but I couldn’t get Aurora to leave. She was drunk, acting crazy. I gave up and went home before I could be grounded for missing curfew.”
Was he telling the truth? Ford had hoped Chet would somehow give himself away, but it was so difficult to tell. He could’ve been lying about that night for so long it was almost second nature to him. “Aurora’s body was found in the river.”
“You can’t think I had anything to do with her death!” he cried.
“Did you, Chet?” Ford asked.
“Of course not!” He pressed a hand to his chest. “You know me! I’d never hurt anyone!”
“You attended almost every day of the trial.”
“So did you.”
“Lucy was my girlfriend when Aurora died. Of course I’d want to be there.”
