“We’ll give you some space,” Remy announced. She might have hovered over Jonah back on Islehaven but that’s because she’d been scared of pulse stoppage or loss of breath. She would not be caught dead hovering over Jeremiah now. “Camille and I will . . .” Her mind blanked. Sort the pantry? Compare bra sizes? This was when her lack of a social life on Islehaven showed.
“Take a walk?” Camille suggested, coming to her rescue. “You up for that?”
“Yes,” Remy replied gratefully.
Anton might be 1.0’s best friend. Yet Jeremiah hadn’t seen Remy in days and Anton had interrupted his time with her just minutes after she’d arrived. Because of that, as he watched Remy walk away, what he mostly felt toward the guy was irritation.
“I'm sorry about your amnesia,” Anton said. “You’ve been through an ordeal.”
“Yeah.”
Jeremiah sized Anton up, weighing his own response. A low-level headache had arrived. That symptom reminded him of how he'd first reacted to Jude and was a sure sign of Anton's involvement in Jeremiah's forgotten past. “I know that I retired from F1 in November of last year.”
“That’s right.”
“Can you explain why I retired?”
“Last season was the final season on your contract with Mercedes. After the first few grand prix on the circuit, you told me your reflexes had slowed, just a fraction. It wasn’t discernible to me or to anyone else, but it bothered you. At that point, you’d been driving F1 for thirteen years. You were growing weary of it. At the same time, you’d given your life to it. So, if you were to retire, you wanted to do so at the top of your game instead of going into a slow decline.”
Yep. That information fit like a jacket that had been tailored to him.
“Then Alexis died midway through the season,” Anton went on, “which was terrible for everyone, most of all you. You kept it together because the team and all the fans were relying on you. You finished the season in Alexis’s honor and drove brilliantly, coming in fourth in the drivers’ championship.”
All of a sudden, Jeremiah saw himself standing on a track, raising his arm to acknowledge the cheers of thousands of fans in the stands. He could hear the roar of their applause. Feel his sweat and gratitude. This was the send-off after his final race.
Goosebumps rose on his skin. A memory. He attempted to draw it out and expand it forward or backward. But that’s all his brain would give him. Just that small slice.
Jeremiah started walking and Anton matched his pace. They passed the front porch, stopping at the point where the meadow began to tilt downhill. Arms crossed, they both faced the Atlantic. Breeze moved around them as if stirred by a giant, invisible spoon.
“What can you tell me about my marriage to Alexis?” Jeremiah asked.
“You two were the couple everyone wanted to be.”
“What was our relationship like?”
“Good for the most part.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means that you had some issues but no more than any couple.”
“What were our issues?”
“I know you and Alexis argued occasionally and that there were things about your marriage that made you sad at times. But you never told me specifically what you argued about or what made you sad. You kept those details private.”
“Before my boat trip, did I tell you that I was looking into Alexis’s death because I didn’t believe it was suicide?”
Anton’s expression turned troubled. “Yes.”
“Who would have wanted Alexis dead?”
“No one. She was admired. Extremely popular.”
“Who would’ve wantedmedead? I ask because I was found injured at sea.”
“Like any Formula One driver, you had your share of haters. A few of them made death threats over the years, but there was never anything of legitimate concern.”
“No one stalked me? Or tried to hurt me?”
