Page 95 of The Summer Guests

In Zoe’s shadowy room, Elizabeth stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at her granddaughter. Over the microphone, they heard Elizabeth release a deep sigh.

“She’s just standing there,” said Ben.

At last Elizabeth took a step forward.Here it comes,thought Maggie, half expecting the woman to move to Zoe’s head, or to reach for the IV line that gleamed faintly in the light from the bedside lamp. If she made the slightest move to harm the girl, Maggie was ready to storm the room to stop her. Then Elizabeth did something Maggie did not expect, something that made her reassess the entire situation.

Elizabeth pulled up a chair and sat down. As the minutes ticked by, she didn’t move, didn’t speak.

“What’s she waiting for?” Ben said.

Maggie shook her head. “I have no idea.”

Chapter 43

Susan

Where is everyone?thought Susan. She looked out the window again, hoping to see approaching headlights, but neither car had returned yet. Elizabeth and Ethan had left for the police station hours ago, a visit Elizabeth had assured her would be brief, just a quick visit to answer a few questions. Colin and Brooke had made a run into town to pick up groceries for dinner.Won’t take long, we’ll be right back,Brooke had assured her. Now it was getting dark, no one had returned, and Susan was stranded alone in the house with Kit, who, as usual, was holed up in his attic lair.

She hovered by the window, wondering if she should just call Hannah for a ride to the hospital. Now that Zoe was out of intensive care and the drugs were being tapered, she could emerge from her coma at any time. When her daughter opened her eyes, Susan wanted to be there. Shehadto be there.

She checked her phone for any messages from the hospital. She’d spent so many hours in that building that she now knew its daily rhythms, and at this hour, volunteers would be collecting patients’ dinner trays, sliding them into the dietary cart. Phones would be ringing in the nurses’ station, and the medications nurse would soon roll hercart down the hall to deliver the evening pills. And in Room 242, Zoe would be sleeping, waiting for her mother.

I’ll be there, darling. As soon as I can get there.

She texted Ethan:Where are you?Paced through the living room, moving past the gallery of photos on the wall, a pictorial history of the Conovers on Maiden Pond. Elizabeth and George with their toddler sons. Colin and Brooke with baby Kit and his dark-haired nanny. Now Susan paced back and the sequence of years reversed, back to when George and Elizabeth were still young and vigorous, as were their neighbors, Arthur and the Greenes. For the first time, she focused on the disembodied arm near little Hannah—a woman’s arm, with the rest of her body excised from the photo. Vivian Stillwater. Of course Elizabeth had slashed Vivian out of the photo. No wife wanted to see her husband’s mistress eternally smiling from the wall.

She heard a car pull up to the house.At last Ethan’s back,she thought, but when she looked out the window, she saw it was Brooke and Colin’s car. She stepped outside as they were unloading the trunk.

“Mom’s not back yet?” Colin asked.

“They’re still at the police station, I think.”

“I can’t imagine why it’s taking so long. I mean, what can they possibly think she knows?” He reached into the trunk and hauled out a box filled with wine bottles. No wonder their shopping trip had taken so long; they must have paid a visit to the local wine merchant, because supermarket cabernet was not up to Colin’s standards.

“Let me help you,” she said.

“If you could just get the watermelon, that’s all that’s left,” he said, and carried the box into the house.

She reached into the trunk to scoop up the watermelon. Under the glow of the trunk light, something metallic glinted back at her. It was at the very edge of the liner carpet, just a pinprick of a reflection, but it stood out brightly against the dark-blue background. She peeled aside the edge of the carpet and frowned at what was lying at the edge.

It was a small gold ear stud. Nothing particularly unique or distinctive, yet the sight of it made her freeze, because it was instantly, disturbingly familiar.

“Susan, you okay out there?” Colin called out.

She jerked straight and saw him watching her from the doorway. “Yes. Yes!” She slipped the ear stud into her pocket and scooped up the watermelon. “I was just making sure there’s nothing else in the trunk.”

“Could you close it?”

“Of course.” She shut the trunk and carried the watermelon into the house.

In the kitchen, Brooke was unpacking the groceries, efficiently sliding milk and eggs into the refrigerator. Kit ambled into the kitchen, the reclusive vampire at last emerging from his attic hideaway, to pour himself a bowl of Cap’n Crunch cereal.

“You’ll ruin your appetite,” Brooke said.

“It’s just a snack.”

“Only one bowl, okay?”

Kit grunted an unintelligible answer and kept eating.

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