As I’m pulling out a chair at the small kitchen table, my phone rings from its spot on the counter. To my surprise, I see Tori’s name on the screen. I never heard back after my message on Sunday and had assumed that she had no interest in talking to me, like Jamie’s other relatives. Of course, it’s possible this isn’t going to be a friendly conversation. I take a deep breath before accepting the call.
“I’m sorry not to have called sooner, Kiki,” she says after we’ve said hello to each other. “But you can imagine how it’s been.”
I exhale, grateful there’s no animosity in her tone. “I understand completely. It’s just good to hear from you.”
“By any chance, did I see you outside Phillips’ Farm Market today?”
“Oh—yeah, that was me. I didn’t see you, though.”
“I tried to wave, but you were concentrating on backing out your car. Are you still up here, then?”
“I actually went home and then came back today.”
I hear her breath catch. “Don’t tell me the police have more questions for you.”
“Not as far as I know. To be honest, I thought being here might help ease my grief a little.” I decide to be direct. “Does this mean you and Liam don’t think the worst of me?”
“Right now, Liam is too stunned to discuss what he’s feeling, but I don’t hold anything against you, Kiki, and I’m sure he doesn’t either. You did what you felt you had to do.”
It’s not exactly a reassurance, but I tell her thank you.
“How long are you planning to stay?” she asks.
“A few days or so. I can work from here easily enough.”
“I take it you’ll be spending time with Ava.”
“Some, though I know she and Vic are busy. Mainly I just feel that if I’m here, answers will come to me faster than they would in New York.”
“Answers?”
I’ve let down my guard too quickly and said more than I should have. If Sam is right and Jamie’s worries centered on this area, they might very well have been related to his family. The last thing I want to do is open a can of worms with Tori.
“Oh... just answers to questions I have in my heart—about me and Jamie.”
“Right,” she says. “Well, I should let you go. But maybe we could have coffee while you’re here?”
“I’d love that, Tori. Just let me know when might be good for you.”
I eat my dinner in the silent kitchen. It’s only seven o’clock when I finish, and the evening seems to stretch forever in front of me. I couldwatch something on Netflix, but the TV in the living room offers no streaming options, and I don’t feel like looking at the small screen of my laptop.
On the spur of the moment, I decide to walk into town. The main strip is only about fifteen minutes away by foot, and though New Burford’s center isn’t as over-the-top picturesque as some of the others in the area, it’s pleasant enough, with a few nice shops and cafés. After grabbing a cotton sweater and locking up the house, I step out onto the porch. It’s still warm outside, and something about the fading light and the balmy, fragrant air floods me with memories of August evenings as a girl, playing Hide-and-Seek and Sardines with neighbor kids in the small town in eastern Pennsylvania where I grew up, and praying my parents would never call me indoors.
I’m on Main Street in even less time than I’d thought, and after securing an outdoor table at the local bistro, I order a glass of wine. Though there are more than a few people ambling along the sidewalk, chatting and laughing, it’s not too crowded tonight.
Reaching behind me to where my purse is hanging from the chair, I dig out the pen and small pad I always carry. I need to make a game plan for the next few days and set goals for myself.
Tomorrow is my lunch with Ava, and though I don’t want to be forthcoming yet about my purpose here, I’m eager to hear anything she has to share. By now, she might know some more about Jamie’s death than she’s felt comfortable sharing over the phone.
And then there’s Tori and her invitation to coffee, which I can use as an opportunity to see whatshemight have learned. After all, she spoke with Jamie only minutes before he left the party, and perhaps he said something to her that seemed unimportant at the time but has great significance now.
At some point soon, too, I’m going to have to summon the nerveto touch base with Sam. He might be up to the same thing I am—trying to figure out what was weighing on Jamie—and I want to hear about whatever he stumbles on.
I set down my pen. It’s almost dark now, and the strings of fairy lights above the outdoor tables have blinked on. At any other time, it would be a pleasure to sit here and watch the evening unfold, but I’m too restless tonight. I pay the bill and set out for home.
On my way into town, there had been people on some of the porches I passed, but everyone seems to have retreated indoors now. Lights are glowing in many of the homes, sometimes along with a blue cast from a TV screen, but others are totally dark. For the first time, I experience a twinge of nerves about sleeping in the rental alone. This will be my first time, I realize, on my own up here. Whenever Jamie traveled for business, I always stayed in New York.
I reach the house, and much to my aggravation, the front door lock resists the key. Instinctively I check behind me, then reassure myself that this is a nice neighborhood and I have nothing to be worried about. Still, the street is dark and empty, and I don’t like standing out here by myself. After thirty more seconds of wiggling, the key finally turns, and I push the door open.
