Page 60 of The Summer that Changed Everything

The way he’d responded put Lucy on high alert. “Ford, if you ever plan to get back with your wife, having me stay here could seriously hurt your chances.”

“That’s okay.” He turned to face her again.

“You’re willing to take the risk?” she said in surprise.

“Since it’s a matter of keeping you safe, yes,” he muttered as he went back to cooking.

She put the sliced meat in a pan and began to sear it on the stove while he stood next to her and seasoned the sauce and added the sour cream. Being in the kitchen cooking with Ford felt so natural, which was kind of odd since she’d spent so much time pushing other men away over the years. But there was also an added electricity in the air that kept her on edge, hyperaware of every move he made. “How are you feeling about the baby?” she asked at length.

He stopped stirring the sauce. “I feel terrible about the baby. I don’t want to let my child down.” He sighed. “If only I’d stayed away from Christina after we separated the first time. Then I wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Lucy should’ve felt some satisfaction that he hadn’t gone on to be blissfully happy with someone else—that his parents guiding him to a more “suitable” woman hadn’t been the answer they’d hoped it would be. But she could take no pleasure in his misery. That, more than anything else, told her how much she still cared about him. “I’m sorry.”

When he glanced over, she offered him a sad smile to show she meant it. “So am I,” he said, and she got lost in his gaze for a moment, because she could tell his apology was as sincere as hers.

A knock at the door interrupted, and they both turned in that direction.

“Who do you think it is?” Lucy whispered.

“I have no idea.” He started across the kitchen, obviously intent on finding out, but she grabbed his arm.

“Wait a sec,” she said and hurried down the hall. She didn’t want to be seen at Ford’s house no matter who it was. That was why she’d driven her car to the cottage and walked over after they left Reggie’s. She knew the kind of gossip seeing her vehicle in the drive or finding her in Ford’s house would start. It’d be worse than having people talk about him taking her side on the issue of Aurora’s murder. And getting even more tongues wagging simply wasn’t necessary.

A second later, she heard him answer the door.

Kevin Claxton was five years older than Ford, but he used to play sand volleyball with Ford’s brother, Houston, during the summers. And although Ford was younger than both of them, he’d been a good enough player that they’d asked him to fill in occasionally, if they were down a man.

Although Kevin had seemed decent enough back then, the age gap meant they’d never really been friends. So when Ford found him on the doorstep, he knew the chief of police hadn’t stopped by to catch up.

“Hey, Ford. Long time, no see,” Claxton said. “How’s Houston doing these days?”

Ford fixed a congenial smile on his face. “Houston’s Houston.”

“Unfortunately, I lost track of him years ago. He working for the family business?”

“You could say that.” Ford could also have said his brother didn’t do much. Although Houston had an office just down the hallway from Ford’s, it’d been so long since he’d been at work, his desk was slowly getting buried beneath all the car magazines he subscribed to and the junk mail that came thanks to the magazines that sold his personal information. But instead of revealing that, Ford indicated Claxton’s badge. “You’re running the whole police force these days, huh? Pretty impressive. Hometown boy makes good?”

“Not all of us can be as successful as you,” he said but the statement didn’t sound nearly as self-deprecating as it would have had he not been wearing such a proud smile.

“Well, I hope you’re not here because I’ve broken the law in some way.”

A scowl rejected that idea even before he could deny it. “Of course not. I just wanted to talk to you for a few minutes. With Lucy McBride back in town, there’s so much gossip flying around that I thought I’d come by and set the record straight, in case she’s been bending your ear.”

“You think she’s not telling the truth?”

“I know she’s not. She may be beautiful, Ford. A man would have to be blind not to see that. But the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Folding his arms, Ford leaned against the doorframe. That was such a flawed argument he couldn’t believe Claxton was trying to use it—or would figure he’d be stupid enough to fall for it. “Are you saying she’s a liar because her father’s a murderer?”

Claxton seemed put off by having to justify the logic gap. “I’m saying he’s a liar and she knows it, yet she believes him when he says he didn’t kill Aurora, and I can’t seem to convince her otherwise, even though I should have a hell of a lot more credibility.”

“Have you listened to her? Given her a chance to tell youwhyshe believes him?”

“I’ve heard what she’s saying. She’s telling people that the police didn’t get it right, which is making Patti and Nelson think the man who killed their daughter hasn’t been punished. That’s just cruel.”

Not getting it right also didn’t reflect well on the department, which was probably whathecared about most. “But there arereasons Lucy believes what she does,” Ford pressed. “Have you heard those reasons?”

“Don’t need to,” he replied with an impatient scowl. “We performed a thorough investigation, and a twelve-person jury agreed with our assessment of the situation. We got the right guy.”

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