“Create a timeline of Alexis’s final two weeks. Return to the scene of the crime. Check her email.”
“And today we’re working on the timeline?”
“Right. Based on my notes, that’s what I’d been doing before my boat trip.”
“Are we simply looking at Alexis’s calendar and trying to figure out where she went and who she saw?”
“Yes, because Kimley says that can reveal inconsistencies and gaps in time that raise valuable questions. Kimley also suggested I call everyone she saw during those two weeks.”
“And ask them what?”
“What they talked about with Alexis, how she seemed, whether she mentioned anything unusual.”
“Can we expect them to remember after all this time?”
“That’s what I asked. Kimley says yes. He told me that people often recall in detail the things that happened the last time they were with a friend before their friend died.”
“Okay, but you’re not going to be able to call any of the people listed in Alexis's calendar because you can’t remember them.”
“I might ask Jude to make the calls—”
The sound of a car coming up the drive reached Remy. “Expecting someone?”
“Only you.”
“Do you think this might be the person who tried to off you? Not that I blame them. Offing you has crossed my mind more than once.”
“I’d be surprised if the person who tried to off me knows my gate code.”
A boxy, hunter green Mercedes SUV came into view. After it stopped, doors opened on both sides, emitting a man and woman. They looked to be in their late thirties. The woman was an all-American type of pretty with brown, shoulder-length hair. The man wore Adidas from head to toe. Tall and handsome, he kept his ginger hair tidy and his ginger beard close-cropped.
The man walked straight to Jeremiah. “Memory still gone?” he asked with a British accent.
“Yes.”
“You don’t recognize me?”
“I don’t.”
“I’m Anton Quintrell.”
Jeremiah inclined his chin. “Jude told me about you.”
Remy knew enough of Jeremiah’s history to place Anton at once as Jeremiah’s former performance coach, his right-hand man and friend.
“This is my wife, Camille,” Anton said. “Your mom brought us up to date on some of what’s happened, so we came by to see how you’re doing.”
“Thanks.” Jeremiah introduced Remy to the couple.
Anton was a direct sort of man. Direct eye contact. Direct body language. Seeing him and Jeremiah side by side threw their differences into light. Jeremiah had an ease about him, a natural charisma. He was like cheese and fig jam on a cracker. Anton was just the cracker. No embellishment.
Camille appeared unable to decide who presented more of a spectacle. Remy (who’d suddenly materialized in the life of their long-time friend) or Jeremiah (who had amnesia).
“Is there anything we can do for you?” Anton asked Jeremiah.
“I do have a few questions for you.”
“Sure.”
