Page 79 of The Summer that Changed Everything

That was shortly before Lucy’s second birthday, and Mick claimed he hadn’t seen Billie since. He’d contacted her sister and her mother and visited the diner where she worked to try to get his stuff back. But another waitress told him she’d broken up with the new guy, quit her job and moved to Texas, and her family closed ranks, wouldn’t give himanyinformation.

Lucy still didn’t know where she was, didn’t even know that side of her family. Billie’s face was nothing but a distant, fuzzy memory, and she’d decided to leave it that way. She figured she’d had enough heartbreak in her life, didn’t need to ask for moreby associating with a woman she already knew was completely unreliable. “Did you get my letter?”

He nodded.

“Were you going to write back?” she asked.

His shoulders lifted in a noncommittal shrug. “Was thinking about it—thinking about telling you to let it all go. There’s nothing to be gained by delving into the past. I should’ve discouraged you when you were here last. Why go back to that mess?”

“Because it’s important to me, and should be important to others, that the right person gets the blame.”

His eyes showed a little more life, but he said, “There’s no chance of figuring out who did it. It’s been too long.”

“I’m not nearly as pessimistic. Reggie’s sister has come forward to admit that she knows he was lying about your confession. That’s a start.”

He rubbed his chin for a moment. “Still a long way from catching the bastard who strangled her,” he said.

She could tell the news had made more of an impact than he was letting on. “I’m going to keep pushing.” She refused to be discouraged, not when she was feeling the first flicker of hope she’d had in ages, but she could see why he’d be hesitant to make too much of what she’d said. He probably couldn’t imagineevergetting out of this place. If he’d killed the Matteos, he was where he belonged, anyway. But since Lester Friedman had learned about that mystery person’s DNA in the drain, she was beginning to wonder if he’d killedanyone.

“Waste of your time.”

“I’m willing to take the risk, especially because I’m not doing this on my own anymore.”

His eyes and mouth tensed, and he sat very still while waiting for her to explain.

“Ford Wagner has hired a private detective—one of the best—to help us.”

“Ford Wagner,” he repeated.

“Yes. He and I were...” She cleared her throat. “We knew each other back when we were teenagers.”

“He wasn’t a local...”

“No. The Wagners owned the big beach house called Coastal Comfort, remember? They only visited during the summer.”

He nodded. “That explains why I don’t know him. I didn’t have much reason to interact with the rich summer folk. So... why’s he interested enough in what happened fifteen years ago to pay for an investigator?”

“He’s a—” she searched her mind for an appropriate word but could only come up with the stereotypical “—friend.”

When her voice caught, his left eyebrow slid up. “Must be a close friend to spend that kind of money.”

“He’s wealthy, so it isn’t as much to him as it would be to us.”

“Still. No reason for him to spend it.”

Ford was doing it for her. And she was grateful. But feelingtoomuch appreciation left her even more vulnerable when it came to him, so she tended to shove that out of her mind. She’d tried to pay; he wouldn’t let her. “His motivation doesn’t matter. The point is his investigator has found out that there was someone else’s DNA in the drain of the Matteos’ kitchen sink.”

He slumped over. “The police have known about that all along.”

She couldn’t help feeling a little deflated that he knew about the blood in the drain. “I don’t remember hearing about it at trial.”

“Because it didn’t amount to anything. It wasmyDNA that was found was under Tony’sfingernails. That means I was a lot closer to him than whoever was at the kitchen sink.”

“Did you kill him?” she blurted out.

He scowled. “You’ve asked me that before—”

“And you assured me that you didn’t,” she broke in. “At least, you denied it at first. Then you... sort of went silent.”

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