Page 108 of The Summer that Changed Everything

Dahlia lifted the brown paper sack she was carrying. “He called me a few days ago, asked me to get this for you.”

Lucy took it and peered inside. “Why would I want an empty beer can?”

“Because it’s notjustan empty beer can. Reggie came into the bar last night.” She made a face. “He comes in far too often.”

Lucy felt her eyes widen as she looked up from the sack. “He drankthisbeer?”

“He did. Then he left the can, but instead of throwing it away, I saved it for you.”

The can should contain Reggie’s DNA, Lucy realized, which meant she could have Friedman test the blood found in the sinkof the Matteos’ trailer against this sample. “Thank you,” she said, feeling more relief than had in days. “I—I really appreciate it.”

Dahlia leaned closer and spoke conspiratorially. “You’re going to be okay, Lucy. You’ve scaled much bigger mountains than this one.”

“Thank you.”

“I hope it makes a difference,” she said and left.

Lucy watched as she climbed into her car and drove off. Then she closed the door and peered into the sack again. Dahlia was right. She couldn’t give up. She had to keep fighting—and she was going to start by getting this can in the mail to Friedman.

Lucy had showered, carefully wrapped the beer can and taken it to the post office, eaten and then cleaned the kitchen. The sun was going down as she sat at the dining table in front of her computer, but she was feeling better, more like herself. She just couldn’t think about Ford, not without a terrible wave of sadness washing over her.

Doggedly pushing him out of her mind whenever he came into it, she tried to concentrate on what she’d been reading. When she’d called Friedman to tell him she’d be mailing him a can that should contain Reggie Burton’s DNA, he’d assured her he’d get it tested. When she’d said she wasn’t convinced it would help even if the samples matched, given the fact that her father’s DNA had been found under Tony Matteo’s fingernails, he’d mentioned that he’d been looking into something called “transfer” DNA. He referenced studies that’d been done in which two people shook hands before one of them handled a knife, then the knife was tested for DNA. In 85 percent of the cases, they found DNA from the person who’d never touched it. And in 20 percent, they foundmoreDNA from the person who hadn’t touched it than from the person who had!

The challenge they faced with the Matteo case, Friedmanhad explained, was that her father’s DNA had been found under Tony’s fingernails, making it look as though the two men had been up close and personal—as they would’ve been if Tony had tried to ward off an attack. Also, Mick couldn’t prove hehadn’tbeen in the trailer that night. In a lot of cases where transfer DNA pointed to the wrong person, something else—a cell phone, for example—could be used to refute the DNA findings by placing the suspect miles and miles away. Mick’s phone had placed him in the area—not surprising since they’d lived only a stone’s throw away from the Matteos, but also not proof that he hadn’t been the one to harm them.

It was the fact that the police had found such a tiny amount of DNA under Tony’s fingernails—just a trace—that’d gotten Friedman thinking about transfer DNA. He told Lucy not to get too excited, said it was a long shot, but if they could find a credible transfer mechanismandthe source of the blood DNA, they might be able to get the Innocence Project, or another organization like it, to take up her father’s case.

The fact that she wouldn’t have to rely on Chief Claxton to act on anything they found made a huge difference on the way Lucy felt. Because he’d been so resistant, so unwilling to even listen to her—or Ford—she’d lost hope.

But if she didn’t need Claxton to listen...

The more she read about transfer DNA, the more convinced she became that it was, indeed, a possibility. There were several cases where transfer DNA had pointed police in the wrong direction. So what could her father have touched that Tony Matteo had also touched before he died?

After reading about a case in which a homeless man’s DNA was found at a crime scene involving a wealthy man who was murdered ten miles away, Lucy got even more excited. The homeless man’s DNA wasunder the victim’s fingernails, and yet he’d spent the night in a hospital, couldn’t have murdered the victim. It turned out that the suspect had been picked up by thesame paramedics who’d responded to the homicide victim an hour later—and used the same equipment, including the finger clamp that checked heartrate. The article claimed that transfer DNA was challenging DNA as the “gold standard” when it came to evidence.

“What could both men have touched?” she asked herself as she checked her inbox. In their recent phone call, she’d asked Friedman to email her the crime scene photos so she could examine them for possibilities. At seventeen, she’d tried hard not to look at the pictures presented in court. But now, she wanted to see exactly what’d been in the Matteos’ trailer that night.

Sure enough, Friedman’s email was waiting for her. After taking a long, bolstering breath, she clicked on the attachment and nearly vomited when she saw the people she’d loved sprawled out and covered in blood on the floor. She hated whoever had done this to them—including her father, if it was him. But she no longer believed it was. She had to find the real killer for their sakes as well as his.

Studying the first picture, she shifted her gaze beyond Tony’s body and scanned what she could see of the rest of the room. Whoever had broken in and killed the Matteos had meant to rob them—but when everything went badly, the perpetrator had panicked and run out empty-handed. Or so the CA had posited in court. After learning about the baseball card collection that’d come into Reggie’s possession, however, Lucy believed somethinghadbeen taken. Reggie had stolen the collection that Tony had meant for her.

Other than the mess, there was nothing unusual she could see, nothing in the picture that might’ve transferred her father’s DNA to Tony. The same went for the second, third and fourth pictures. She looked through all of them and couldn’t find anything.

In case she’d been focusing on the wrong things, she started over.

Again, there was nothing in picture number one. Nothing in picture two. Nothing in picture three.

As she grew more and more discouraged, she started to believe she’d forced herself to go through this painful exercise for nothing. But then her eyes landed on something so small and insignificant she’d missed it before. There was a pair of fingernail clippers on the small table near Tony’s recliner—and seeing them suddenly evoked a memory. Only a few days before Tony was killed, he’d asked her to go to the store to get him a pair of clippers. But she hadn’t had time.

So she’d run home and grabbed her father’s.

The police had not come by. And Ford had left town. Chet could not believe how fortunate he was. It seemed no one at NHBPD was taking Lucy and her claims seriously. Also, the investigator Ford had hired had never come to visit the area and didn’t seem to be playing much of a role. He probably wouldn’t now that Ford was out of the picture. It seemed the summer would play out just as it had the past week, with no new developments. Lucy would leave at the end of August, and that would be that.

Chet regretted telling Kira about the boat and the texts Stephanie Beaumont had received from Aurora now that he realized he hadn’t needed to. She’d been unusually reserved ever since. Occasionally, he’d catch her watching him with a worried expression, as if she was wondering whether she really knew him. In those moments, when he looked up and caught her eye, she’d smile, but there was something about her that made him uneasy.

It was nothing to be concerned about, he told himself. Things would slowly go back to normal, day by day, as they fell into the same old summer routine and enjoyed each other and their child. They were happy; there was nothing to come between them now. But he was glad that he and Kira continued to visitNorth Hampton Beach. It was important he’d been here this summer in particular. Being part of the community had allowed him to stay informed so he could continue to safeguard the secret that, if it got out, would ruin his life and shock everyone who knew him.

He was in his studio painting while Kira was out in the garden. She had Kenzie in a backpack carrier, and Eddie was with her, too, sniffing the trees and marking the yard. Chet was so relieved to have everything returning to normal that it was hard to do anything more than sit and stare out the window at the gorgeous blue sky, lush green trees and what he could see of the river through the leaves. He also liked admiring his beautiful wife as she carried Kenzie about the tomato plants she’d put in when they first arrived, weeding and checking for pests.

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