“Thanks for having me here this weekend,” Miranda said. “I’ve always wanted to see what the Ocean House was like inside—especially up here in the tower.”
“Well, you’re Bernard’s date,” Kate said.
“Yes,” Miranda said. “It wasn’t easy, engineering that.”
Kate tilted her head at the odd statement. “But you’re his girlfriend,” she said.
Miranda paused. “That’s a recent development.”
“Okay,” Kate said, waiting for her to say more.
“Did you open my gift?” Miranda asked.
“No,” Kate said. She had forgotten about it until that minute. She glanced at the dining table, where the box sat unopened.
“Could you do that now?” Miranda asked with an anxious edge to her voice.
Kate figured she might as well open it, to send Miranda on her way. The two of them sat at the table. A door opened to a terrace overlooking the beach. Kate didn’t want to look down there, to see the Independence Day Beach Ball being set up. She and Conor had been looking forward to it—it was going to be the last chance to gather with their wedding guests.
She picked up the small square box, untied the blue ribbon, and ripped the yellow wrapping paper. When she lifted the lid, she saw a thin, tiny silver ring on a bed of white cotton.
“What’s this?” Kate asked.
“Don’t you recognize it?” Miranda asked.
Kate stared at the object and realized it was a piece of wire, twisted at the ends to make a ring. She knew exactly where she had seen it before.
“A child’s wedding ring,” Miranda said. “Something a little boy might have made for a little girl.”
“Belinda’s,” Kate said, raising her eyes to look at Miranda. “The one Conor gave her.”
Miranda nodded.
“How did you get it?”
“I took it off her finger while she was sleeping,” Miranda said.
Kate’s mind was spinning. “But why? How did you get close enough to her to do that?”
“She’s my cousin, Kate. She’s the whole reason I found a way to meet Bernard. Just like she found a way to meet Garrett. She and I both really needed to come to your wedding.” She paused. “For different reasons.”
“Why?” Kate asked, shocked.
“Belinda, because she’s obsessed with Conor. Me, because I was afraid of what she would do,” Miranda said. “I wanted to stop her.”
“From telling me about her and Conor?” Kate asked.
“No, Kate,” Miranda said. “From killing you.”
21
Sunday, July 4; 6:00 p.m.
The Ocean House Independence Day Beach Ball was a dream event, the quintessence of a New England summer. At six o’clock, the sun was making its way west, behind the hotel and chapel and houses on the bluff, and the sky was turning deep blue. Emerald-green waves rolled in, translucent as they broke, then exploded into frothy white spindrift. The air was warm, with an early-evening breeze blowing off the water; Sam wore a white cashmere sweater that had been her mother’s. She loved it because it reminded her of her mom; it still smelled faintly of the Diptyque perfume she used to wear. It had pockets to hold her phone and room key card.
Chefs were busy at their stations, the dance floor was set up for later, and servers came around with bottles of wine.
Sam, Hadley, and CeCe sat at one of the tables closest to the water. Their tablemates were Mike and Anne Reid and their friends—the Old Detectives, as Sam had started thinking of them: Nola and Edward Aldrich, and Leo Kennedy. CeCe seemed restless, so Hadley took her down to the water’s edge. Sam was saving seats for Maeve and Lincoln; he had changed his mind about leaving. Maeve had said that they would meet her here, but they hadn’t shown up yet. There was a sense of festivity all around, but Sam felt desolation. This was supposed to be the last party of the wedding weekend.
