Page 41 of The Summer that Changed Everything

“Don’t smile at me,” she grumbled.

He laughed at her sullen expression. “Why not?”

“Because I don’t want to see it.”

“Should I scowl instead?” He drew his face into a severe frown. “This better?”

She looked away. “Just... don’t do anything, okay?”

He couldn’t resist another chuckle, which she ignored.

“When does the investigator want to talk to us?” she asked.

“He said to call him as soon as you arrived.”

“Great. I’m here.”

All business. Ford stepped back and held the door as she came in. Then he waved her into the main living area.

She circled the room, stopping at the large picture window that created a frame for the sea before picking up a weathered,wooden bird displayed on a side table. “I always wondered what this place was like on the inside.”

They’d been together for such a short period of time he’d never brought her to the house. He’d known his family wouldn’t approve of her. Even before it came out that her father was a murderer, Mick had been a maintenance man, barely eking out a living, and the fact that they lived in a run-down trailer park served as proof. Sara and John would not have reacted in a positive way. They’d always been worried about their image and connections.

Oddly enough,Aurorahad been inside the house, however. Ford hadn’t thought twice about introducing her to his parents. He’d known they’d be more than happy to associate with the Clarks.

Even if that hadn’t been the case, he didn’t care how they reacted to Aurora because she hadn’t mattered very much to him. It was Lucy he’d liked.

“I need to get it updated,” he told her. “That’s partly why I’m here this summer.”

“Looks good to me.”

He wondered where she lived these days—not just what city but if she had a good home, maybe with roommates or a boyfriend. And what did she do for a living? He was interested in all of that, but now, when she was so prickly, was not the time to ask.

“Needs new flooring, paint, that sort of thing.” He gestured toward the kitchen and changed the subject. “Would you like some coffee or tea?”

“No, thanks.”

Apparently, she wasn’t going to lower her guard. He figured he might as well get the investigator on the phone.

It took only a few seconds for Lester Friedman’s receptionist to patch him through. As soon as Ford heard his voice, he put his phone on Speaker. “I’ve got Lucy McBride here, Les.”

“Hello, Ms. McBride,” Friedman said.

“Call me Lucy,” she told him. “And for the record, I’ve changed my last name to Sinclair.”

“Duly noted. I can see why someone in your situation might want to do that. Why don’t we get started by having you tell me why you believe Mick McBride wasn’t responsible for the death of Aurora Clark?”

She told him how eager everyone had been to blame him, despite the lack of evidence, because of the Matteo murders. She also told him that Aurora’s aggressive pursuit of Ford had provided the motive, that it was what helped convince everyone that he had reason to kill again.

“Did your father confess to the Matteo murders?” Friedman asked.

“He claims he doesn’t remember killing the Matteos. But he was an alcoholic. Being unable to remember—that wasn’t a new thing for him.”

“So you still have a relationship with him?”

“Not really. We’re in touch for the first time in fifteen years. He still won’t say much about the Matteos, but he’s been very vocal and consistent when it comes to Aurora.”

“Ford told me you were only seventeen when your father was tried and convicted. What’d you do after they put him away?”

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