Page 86 of The Summer that Changed Everything

Lucy scrolled through Stephanie’s earlier posts. “She seems nice. She posts about her pets, her friends, how damaging body dysmorphia can be, goes over her weight loss journey and tries to raise funds for Alzheimer’s and cancer research.”

“We should reach out to her,” he said. “See why she came by—and why she ran away.”

Lucy had assumed whoever owned that orange truck wasn’t friendly, that the driver might even have been the person who’d broken in. The way Stephanie had fled had been suspicious. But Ford could be right. Either way, they needed to talk to everyone who was at the party, and Stephanie would be a great place to start. “How will we find her?”

“There’s nothing on Insta that indicates where she works?”

“No.”

Ford’s phone lit up. “Chet’s calling back. He might know. He seems to have remained in contact with a lot of the people around here.”

He pressed the Talk button, and Lucy got up to carry the dishes to the sink.

“Doing great... Yeah, we need to get together again... That was a delicious dinner... How’s the baby?... And Kira?... Tell her I said hello...”

After the small talk was over, Lucy returned to the table. If she listened carefully, she could also hear Chet’s side of the conversation, and Ford turned his phone to make that easier.

“I was just calling to see if you could tell me who owns the beat-up orange truck that we’ve seen around town.”

“Did you say...orange truck?”

“Yeah. It’s distinctive enough that I thought you might be familiar with it.”

“Why’s the truck important?” he asked.

“I’m not sure it is,” Ford replied. “Lucy mentioned it appeared at the cottage last week and then rocketed away. That’s all.”

“Rocketedaway?”

“As if the driver didn’t want to be seen.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know who that could be.”

“No worries,” Ford told him. “When you didn’t answer, we talked to Dahlia, and she was able to tell us it belongs to Stephanie Beaumont.”

There was a long silence.

“Chet?” Ford said. “You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. I got... I was distracted by Kenzie.”

Ford shifted in his seat. “You remember Stephanie, don’t you? She was with Aurora at the party the night she was murdered.”

“I remember,” he said. “Why do you think she went to the cottage?”

“Lucy and I have no idea. But we intend to find out.”

“Good luck with that.” His voice sounded oddly strained, giving Lucy the impression he didn’t believe they’d ever prove it. But she’d known from the beginning that it wasn’t going to be easy to convince the people around here.

“Thanks,” Ford said.

Chet cleared his throat. “This might help, too—if only to identify a dead end.”

Lucy could see the curiosity in Ford’s eyes when he looked up at her. “What are you talking about?” he asked.

“The rowboat you mentioned. The one someone at the party was messing around with and left in the water instead of dragging safely to shore.”

“What about it?”

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