“Okay,” I say, relieved that the questions about a possible suicide were obviously routine. Jamie didn’t even own a gun, for god’s sake.
Calistro finally closes his notebook and offers me a business card, saying that I should call if I think of anything else. I’m so drained that my legs almost give out as I rise to say goodbye. Soon after he leaves the room, I hear a murmur of voices from the hall and then the click of the front door.
Moments later, Ava reappears in the doorway of the kitchen, dressed now in a cotton pullover and jeans. The house has turned eerily quiet.
“Where is everyone?” I ask.
“Liam took Tori home. Dan and his wife have gone to bed, and Vic’s in his office.”
“I should get back to the inn.”
“Don’t be silly, you’re staying here tonight, Kiki. Unfortunately, we only have one true guest room, but there’s a daybed in my office upstairs and I’ve already made it up for you. And you’ll have a half bath to yourself.”
I start to protest but quickly change my mind, realizing I’m in no shape to drive back to the inn on my own. Ava leads me upstairs to her office and hugs me good night. Though she’d whispered on the stairs that she’d left me a spare toothbrush and fresh washcloth in the bathroom, all I have the strength to do is peel off my dress and crawl beneath the sheets on the daybed.
For a few minutes I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling. Where is Jamie now? I wonder. In the morgue already, in a black body bag? And what about his killer: Is he—or she—back home, convinced they might have gotten away with it?
A sob catches in my throat, and I expect a flood of tears, but they seem trapped inside me.
I reach up with a hand and snap off the swinging wall lamp just to the right of the daybed. Within minutes, from sheer exhaustion and despair, I feel sleep overtake me.
WHEN I WAKE THE NEXT MORNING, MY MIND IS BLANK FOR Afew seconds, the only thought in my head that the bed I’m lying in feels oddly unfamiliar.
And then my memory catches up, slamming into me. I’m at Ava’s... in her office...because Jamie is dead.
For a moment I lie very still, second-guessing myself. In this utterly quiet room, with the dull light of morning seeping in from behind the shades, it’s almost possible to believe I’ve just woken up from the worst nightmare of my life. But the horrible knot in my gut tells me otherwise. I let out a moan and wrap my arms around my chest, squeezing hard.
My purse, I remember, is on the table behind me, and after twisting around, I drag it onto the bed and dig out my phone. The screen says it’s only 7:12. I scroll quickly through my recent emails and texts.It’s clear that news about Jamie has yet to reach anyone I’m close to. It’s like I’m living in an alternate universe.
Summoning what little energy I have, I hoist myself up and stagger to the bathroom. There, I finally use the toothbrush Ava left and dab at my face with a wet tissue, removing the grungy traces of last night’s makeup. Back in Ava’s office, I slip on my dress and shoes and force my hair clumsily into a scrunchie from my purse.
For the first time since I’ve been in this room, I take it in—the soft yellow walls, the antique wooden desk, the built-in bookcase with all the volumes arranged so orderly. Exactly the kind of pretty but very functional office I would have imagined Ava having. I’m so grateful for all she did last night, but I need to get out of here and be by myself.
When I ease open the door, silence greets me. Everyone must still be sleeping, or they’re huddled in their rooms, still shaken. I tiptoe down the stairs to the foyer, where, to my dismay, I spot the security system pad near the front door with a bright red light indicating that the alarm has been set.Fuck.I can’t leave now without setting it off. Am I going to have to sit around in my party clothes until Ava or Vic surfaces?
My gaze drifts to one of the foyer windows and I spot a couple of police vehicles at the end of the long driveway. Now that it’s daylight, the police must be making a closer inspection of the crime scene. A fresh wave of sadness crashes over me.
“Kiki.”
I spin around at the sound of Ava’s whisper. She’s standing by the kitchen door, wearing a fluffy turquoise robe.
“Oh, Ava, did I wake you?” I say, keeping my own voice down.
“No, no. Vic and I have been up for a while, though Dan and his wife are still sleeping, I think. Why don’t you come into the kitchen for a bit? Vic’s up in his office but he’ll be down in a while.”
As eager as I am to be back at the inn, it will be good to have a couple of minutes alone with Ava. I nod and follow her into the dimly lit room.
“How about some toast?” she asks.
“Yes, god, I could use that,” I say, realizing that my stomach is roiling.
Ava drops a piece of bread into the toaster, then pours us each a cup of coffee. Her hair is pushed back with a stretchy black headband, and her face is free of makeup at this hour, of course. Though Ava and I are close, our friendship started at work, and it’s slightly disconcerting to see her in this context.
“Did you get any sleep last night?” I ask.
“Enough to get by on. And you, dear? This must be so brutal for you.”
“I did manage to get some rest.... Do—do people know yet? I mean, like Jamie’s uncle Drew?”
