Conor saw shock in Tom’s eyes, and he knew how he must look. Throughout his police career, Conor had broken up many fights. He had been called to the sites of countless domestic disturbances, and he had always done what Tom was doing right now: separating the couple until they could cool down.
Their uncle Mike was right behind them, and he took Conor’s arm. As a judge, he was no stranger to altercations.
“Let’s take a walk,” Mike said.
They crossed the lobby and stepped onto the verandah. It was bustling with people enjoying the summer evening, but Conor barely saw them as Tom and Mike led him down the steps. The breeze was cool, the sky perfectly clear. Stars blazed in the cloudless sky. He looked overhis shoulder, up at the top of the hotel, at the tower, where he and Kate were staying. The round windows glowed from the lights inside the suite.
Tom tried to steer him along the walkway toward the beach, but Conor pulled back. “I’m fine,” Conor said. “You don’t have to worry.”
“You’re the calmest one in the family,” Mike said. “Unflappable. So when you lose your cool, we’re going to worry. What’s going on?”
Conor stared at his uncle, his father’s youngest brother—the last Reid of that generation. The Honorable Michael Reid had presided over many high-profile Rhode Island cases; he was often urged to run for political office. He had political and legal clout, and he was well known throughout the state. To Conor and Tom, he was just Uncle Mike.
“I know you’re trying to help, but I have to talk to Kate,” Conor said.
“First, you’re going to talk to us,” Mike said. “What was all that back there?”
Conor just stared at him.
“Why was that woman yelling at Kate?” Tom asked, as if Conor needed prompting.
“Didn’t you recognize her?” Conor asked.
“No, should I have?” Tom said.
“Tom, that’s Belinda Quinn,” Conor said.
“From next door? Montauk Avenue?” Tom asked.
“Yeah,” Conor said.
“Wow,thatgirl?” Tom asked. “Everyone at school thought she died.”
“There were a lot of rumors,” Conor said. He thought back, remembering how one day Belinda had been their neighbor, and one day she was gone. Not long after that, the rest of the Quinn family moved away.
“Never mind the past,” Mike said. “Let’s discuss what just happened—why did you shove her?”
“I didn’t,” Conor said. “That was all an act—she fell on purpose.”
Both Mike and Tom squinted, as if wondering if they should believe him. Conor knew Tom had seen it a hundred times in his law enforcement career and Mike had heard cases where that behavior hadplayed a part—someone faking for effect. Just then, Anne beckoned to Mike. He looked over at his wife, then gave his nephews an apologetic shrug and walked over to her.
“Belinda went down pretty hard, Conor,” Tom said. “Garrett will probably call for a paramedic, and then he’ll come looking for you.”
“I hope he does,” Conor said. “He should know who he’s dating. I’ll tell him.”
“Based on what, knowing her when you were six?” Tom asked.
“Look, forget it. I’ve got to go to Kate.”
“I’m going with you,” Tom said.
“I can handle talking to Kate on my own,” Conor said, glaring at his brother.
“Maybe so,” Tom said. “But I’m still going with you.”
They heard a distant siren, and Conor felt a new rush of anger. He figured that Garrett had in fact called the paramedics. Belinda was clearly a good emotional con artist. That tumble had been contrived. Conor knew she had fooled Garrett the way she’d tricked him. She’d invented a damsel-in-distress fiction that had probably worked for her before.
He and Tom walked back through the lobby toward the elevator. It was evening now, and the harp music had given way to piano. Everyone knew about tomorrow’s wedding, so when the piano player spotted Conor, he played a few bars of the “Wedding March.” Conor tried to smile at him, but he felt sick inside and couldn’t.
