Page 64 of The Summer that Changed Everything

Ford gave Lucy a startled look, which she gave right back to him. “We didn’t hire you to get involved in the Matteo murders.”

“But that’s where it all starts, so that’s whereIhad to start. Part of the reason Lucy’s father was convicted was that he’d supposedly killed two innocent people only weeks before Aurora died.”

“Supposedly?” Ford said, picking up on that word above all the rest. “Lucy’s father’s DNA was found under the fingernails of Tony Matteo.”

“I understand, but I’ve found something that can’t also be true, not unless Mick could be in two places at one time.”

The blood drained from Lucy’s face. She opened her mouth to respond, but a voice in the entryway caused her to whirl around instead. Ford turned, too, and saw Chief Claxton. He’d drawn his firearm as if he was approaching a dangerous situation, but the muzzle was pointed at the floor. “According to the call that came in, you need my help,” he said.

The smug expression on his face caused Ford to clench his jaw. “Nice of you to finally show up.”

He grinned as he slid his gun back into his belt. “Everyone loves to find fault with the police—until they need help.”

Lucy shoved her hands into the pockets of her cutoffs and followed as Ford led Chief Claxton down the hall. The two men were talking about the break-in. She was, of course, keenly interested in the conversation and yet she was barely listening. Ford had ended the call with Friedman abruptly, so they could deal with what was going on right now. But she couldn’t wait to hear the investigator explain what he’d found. How could there beanyquestion that her father had murdered the Matteos? Was it even remotely possible that he was innocentofallthe murders?

The mere thought caused her heart to pound. In the beginning, she’d believed in him so much. But the police had insisted it was an open-and-shut case. She’d heard the evidence herself; it’d certainly seemed incontrovertible. Even her father had stopped professing his innocence once all the evidence had been laid out. As an alcoholic, he’d often drink until he blacked out or couldn’t remember where he’d been or what he’d done. The CA had pointed to his history with alcohol every time Mick so much as tried to say he hadn’t killed anyone. They said the evidenceprovedhe’d broken into the Matteos’ home, most likely intent on stealing whatever cash and valuables he could, only to find them asleep in their beds, at which point a savage beating had ensued. Because he managed the trailer park, he’d known they were supposed to be visiting a dying aunt in Florida. That was what gave him the opportunity—or so it was thought. And if he’d been drinking, the rest seemed plausible, too.

But it was the DNA evidence that cemented the case. Finding her father’s genetic material under Tony Matteo’s fingernails not only placed him at the scene of the crime, it proved he’d had personal contact with Tony.

Eventually, after his protestations continued to fall on deaf ears, her father had gone silent. Refused to even talk about it. Then he was charged with murdering Aurora, too, and because he’d killed the Matteos, everyone believed he must be guilty, especially when Reggie came forward with that jail cell “confession.”

Surely, even if her father hadn’t killed Aurora, he was guilty of murdering the sweet old couple who’d been so good to her whenever they saw her. Losing them had been like losing her grandparents. They were the closest thing she’d ever had to extended family, which had only added more fuel to her hurt and anger when she learned what her father had done.

But what if hehadn’tharmed them?

It would change his life. It would change hers, too—remove the giant weight crushing her heart and soul.

She quickly reined in the wild thoughts racing through her mind, along with the memories of her father as a basically kind man, a regular dad.Stop. Do not let hope get the best of you. DNA doesn’t lie.

“You want to tell me what happened here?” Chief Claxton asked.

She’d planned to explain, but as she studied his expression, she didn’t like what she saw. The glitter in his eyes told her he didn’t care about the broken window and ruined makeup; he seemed to feel she deserved whatever she got. “No.”

He’d already pulled out a pen and notebook. “You don’t want to file a report?” he said, looking up.

“Would there be any point?” she asked.

“Lucy,” Ford said gently. “We might as well document this. See what the police can do. Don’t you think?”

“They won’t do anything,” she replied.

Claxton lowered his pad and pen. “What are you talking about?”

“I read faces for a living, Chief Claxton. And you know what yours is telling me right now? It’s shouting that you won’t bother to investigate this. You want me gone as badly as whoever did it. Or maybe that person is actually... you.”

Claxton’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “Are you accusing me of committing a crime?”

“No, she’s not. We know you would never commit a crime,” Ford said, obviously trying to keep this encounter from getting too out of hand.

But Lucy couldn’t stop herself from doubling down, not after being the defenseless girl who’d had no say—and wouldn’t have been heard even if she did try to speak up—fifteen years ago. “You were in the area.”

Red splotches appeared on his bulldog-like cheeks. “You’d better watch yourself...”

“You already threatened me at the grocery store, remember?”

“I didn’t threaten you,” he said through gritted teeth. “I warned you.”

“That my stay this summer might get ‘unpleasant’ if I questioned the past—and I’d say this is pretty damn unpleasant.”

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