I’d remembered to leave one of the living room lamps burning, so at least I don’t walk into a pitch-black house. With a start, I notice that the overhead light in the kitchen is also on, though I could have sworn I turned it off before leaving. I take a few cautious steps in that direction. Nothing is amiss. Obviously, I’m just remembering wrong. It’s clear that if I’m going to feel comfortable staying alone, I’ll have to chill out and be as focused as possible.
After double-checking that the front and back doors are both locked, I head upstairs, flicking the stairwell light on as I do. The heat in the house has risen and my bedroom is stiflingly warm. Using theremote control, I activate the AC unit, but it sounds like a blender on “ice crush,” so I turn it off, knowing I’ll never be able to fall asleep with that racket. Instead, I wrest open the two windows and pray the breeze will find its way in.
The double bed, at least, turns out to be inviting. It’s got a firm mattress with soft cotton sheets, and there’s a faint lavender scent coming from the pillowcases.
Before turning off the light, I sit propped against the headboard, sipping from a glass of water and glancing at the notes I scribbled an hour ago. There’s so little there, I realize, and nothing I’ve listed promises many answers. What was I thinking—that once I crossed the Litchfield County line, revelations about Jamie’s life were going to emerge from the woodwork and fall right into my lap? No, I’m going to have to be more proactive about finding them.
As I drop the notepad next to my phone on the bedside table, my mind flashes back to the addresses I found in Jamie’s drawer. I’m still confused by that list. If life had become too much for Jamie, why was he looking at properties here and in Florida? Maybe checking them out will tell me something, at the very least, about his recent state of mind.
That’s a next step, at least. And I can get started tomorrow morning.
10
IWAKE TO SOFT SUMMER LIGHT POURING IN FROM THE WINDOWS. I’ve somehow managed to sleep through the night, even though the room isn’t much cooler. I take a quick shower, eat breakfast, answer a few emails, and then set out just after nine, with a printout I made of the photo of the address list.
The first house I plan to see is the farthest away, but I’ve decided to work my way more or less backward from there so I’ll eventually end up at Ava’s for lunch. Based on my calculations, I’ll be able to see four of the properties this morning.
My journey takes me along a series of two-lane country roads, lined in many areas with weathered split-rail fences or old stone ones that probably date back at least a hundred years. The landscape is both lush and serene, a mix of farm fields, orchards, woods, and rocky outcroppings, with blue-green hills rising gently in the distance. I pass through a few small towns not unlike New Burford, but mostly I’m in rural areas punctuated with farmhouses, weathered barns, and silver silos, as well as the occasional historic clapboard house. For a few miles, there’s a stream on my left, sparkling in the morning sun, and then I pass a field populated with at least thirty black wild turkeys that seem almost prehistoric.
I’m in for a surprise when I pull up to the first property. It’s a fairly small, nondescript blue house, set close to the road, and not at all whatI could imagine Jamie considering as a weekend home, either to rent or to purchase. Maybe some artful online photos had tricked him into thinking it had possibilities.
I keep moving, and the next two places turn out to be just as confusing, though in a totally different way. They’re both ranch houses, not a style I can picture Jamie ever warming up to, and each needs some work. Maybe he was thinking of living in one for a year or so and sprucing it up, then flipping it to buy a house that was more his style. After all, if Jamie wanted something badly enough, he was more than willing to roll up his sleeves, do the necessary grunt work, and bide his time if necessary. But I feel sure he had enough money saved for a down payment on something a bit closer to his dream home.
The last house on my way back toward Ava’s completely throws me for a loop. It’s a two-family dwelling, which wouldn’t have been right for Jamie at all. The idea of him house hunting seems more and more remote. Unless... unless he decided to kick off his search by canvassing absolutely everything in his price range. He was a methodical guy, after all. But it still seems like a stretch.
As I drive away, something else occurs to me: none of the houses had a For Sale sign in the yard. Of course, not everyone chooses to put one out, but what are the chances that all four of the sellers would have decided to skip that, or that the houses have all been sold?
Twenty minutes later, slightly on the early side, I arrive at Ava’s. I’m prepared for the sight of the house to be tough, but it’s even worse than I expected. My heart immediately begins to race, and my breath becomes trapped in my chest. The barn, thankfully, is hidden behind the house and several large trees, but I still see it in my mind’s eye. I’m just going to have to do my best to maintain equilibrium and take what comfort I can from being in Ava’s presence.
There are two cars in the driveway, Ava’s white Audi and a blacksedan. It must be a new car of Vic’s because Ava had mentioned that they wouldn’t have any houseguests this week. I park my car farther down the long driveway in case Vic will need to go out before I leave.
I’m ten feet away from the front door when it swings open, and to my shock, Tori and Liam emerge. I freeze on the flagstone path, not sure how to respond. Even if Tori’s holding nothing against me, Liam might be a different story. And I’m standing between them and what must be their car.
“Kiki,” Tori murmurs, as the two continue toward me and we cluster together in the driveway. There’s a lack of surprise in her voice, suggesting that Ava told her I was coming.
“So good to see you,” I say, and give her arm an awkward squeeze. She looks drained, with her eyes slightly bloodshot, and she hasn’t even bothered with her usual swipe of lipstick today.
I quickly shift my attention to her husband. “I’m terribly sorry for your loss, Liam,” I say.
Based on his rigid body language, I decide to forgo an arm squeeze in his case.
“Thank you,” he says evenly. It’s almost impossible for me to read his expression, because his sunglasses have mirrored lenses, providing a glimpse of my sad eyes instead of his. His jaw looks tightly clenched, though, and I sense he’s not too thrilled to see me.
“How hard this must be for Taylor, too,” I say to him. “I remember you mentioning once that he really looked up to Jamie.”
“Yeah, it’s been brutal for him. What about you? This can’t be easy—even if you weren’t a couple anymore.”
“No, it’s been very hard,” I say.
“And you’re up here to...?”
“Spend time with Ava,” I say, “and to try to find some peace.”
“Right. Well, good luck then.”
Difficult to tell whether he’s just being his no-nonsense self or there’s a snideness beneath his words.
He turns to his wife. “Meet you at the car, Tor?”
