Page 110 of The Summer that Changed Everything

“For not listening and being more open-minded about some of the things you’ve been trying to tell me. Kira Anthony has come forward with compelling evidence that suggests her husband, Chet, is the one who killed Aurora Clark.”

Visions of what Aurora’s last night must’ve been like caused Lucy to sink onto the porch step. She would’ve trusted Chet enough to leave the party with him herself. Chet had been totally infatuated with Aurora. Lucy had said as much toFord; she’d said that violent crimes were often perpetrated by someone who felt passionate about his or her victim. But how could Chet do such a thing? At that age? And how could he let someone else take the blame?

“That must’ve been very difficult for Kira.”

“The hardest thing she’s ever had to do, I’m sure.”

The fact that she’d had the strength and integrity made Lucy eternally grateful. “I hate what it’s going to cost her.”

“She said she had no choice. She couldn’t continue to live with a man who was hiding such a dark secret. She said it would’ve destroyed her, made her feel complicit. She also said she owed it to Kenzie to get them both out right away.”

“So Chet’s already in custody?”

“Not yet. But we’re looking for him.”

“He’s on the run?”

He scowled. “We don’t know that. We just haven’t been able to pick him up yet. He wasn’t at home.”

“Where’s Kira?”

“She’s at the house with a couple of officers, packing up. She’s planning to take Kenzie and Eddie home to her parents in Baltimore, where they’ll stay until she’s ready to face rebuilding her life without Chet.”

Lucy didn’t envy her the next few years. Yet another life had been destroyed because of that long-ago summer. “So what will this mean for my father?”

“In what regard?”

The question was rather disingenuous; he had to know what she was referring to. “This will overturn his conviction, right?”

“For Aurora’s murder, yes. But he’ll still spend the rest of his life in prison, Lucy. He killed the Matteos. I know you don’t want to believe that, but nothing has changed there. The evidence still points to him.”

Lifting her chin, she stood once more. “That’s what you said about Aurora.”

“I did. I realize that and I’m here to admit I was wrong. But the Matteos are different. There’s solid DNA evidence in their case.”

“DNA that got where it was because of a pair of fingernail clippers I lent Tony that belonged to my father.”

“You’ve never said that before.”

“It’s the first time I’ve ever taken a close look at the crime scene photos. The investigator Ford hired sent them to me, and once I saw them up close, was able toreallystudy them, I realized.”

His face turned so stony it could’ve been chiseled out of granite. He certainly didn’t want her to prove that his department had been wrong aboutbothof the most important cases they’d ever investigated. That would be quite a dismal track record. “Enough, Lucy!”

“It’snotenough,” she said. “Reggie Burton killed the Matteos. It wasn’t my father.”

“You got lucky! A dog dug up key evidence. The same thing won’t happen twice.”

She’d established what she’d hoped to establish when she came here. The truth of Aurora’s murder had come out, clearing her own name along with her father’s. No doubt Claxton had expected her to be satisfied. “You never know,” she said, thinking of the beer can she’d sent Friedman.

Her phone rang; she looked down to see that the investigator was finally calling her back. “I have to take this,” she said and thanked him for coming before opening the screen door.

30

Ford stood at the window of the penthouse apartment Christina had insisted they buy when they got married. He’d thought he’d hate living in such a sterile, ostentatious place. She’d had to use quite a bit of emotional blackmail to get him to do it. But he liked the neutral colors, floor-to-ceiling glass and clean, contemporary lines. The amenities were nice, too. Still, it was the view that made the incredible expense worth it. The sight of Washington DC below him, lights twinkling in the darkness, helped calm him when he got angry or frustrated—or sad. Today, he’d been all three. A few hours ago, Friedman had told him about Chet. He’d said Chet had tried to escape prosecution, but the police had picked him up just before he could fly out of Richmond for South America.

Ford shook his head, still grappling with the knowledge that one of his good friends had committedmurder. He didn’t want to believe it. But there was no other way to explain what Eddie had dug up in the Anthony yard. Chet could claim it must’ve been someone else who’d buried Aurora’s bra, shirt, wallet, and sandals, but that wasn’t very believable. Friedman was guessing the police would find saliva and/or semen evidence on her clothes that would prove otherwise. That was probably why he’d tried to flee, Friedman said. He knew the game was up.

Aurora’s face appeared in Ford’s mind. He hadn’t been interested in her romantically, but he still felt bad for what Chet had done to her. Given the opportunity, she probably would’ve grown into a decent adult. She’d deserved to have the chance, but Chet had robbed her of it.

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