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‘Forty years?’ said Tess, sipping her drink thoughtfully. ‘I didn’t think Riverview was a hotel back then?’
‘It wasn’t,’ said Lori wistfully. ‘I worked for the family who used to own the house.’
‘Meredith Asgill’s family, the Carters?’
‘You’re well informed.’
‘New York’s a small place,’ shrugged Tess. ‘I know Brooke Asgill quite well.’
The older woman’s face lit up. ‘You do? Oh how wonderful. Do you know Meredith too?’
Tess nodded. She had a hunch Lori Adams might be more help to her than Sidney, the hotel manager.
‘And how is Meredith?’ asked Lori as she took her cocktail from the waiter.
‘A little stressed. Usual mother–of–the–bride stuff.’
Lori gave a little tinkling laugh. ‘That doesn’t surprise me. Meredith always was very particular, very exact. I remember her wedding day – everything had to be just so.’
‘Really?’ said Tess, trying to contain her excitement. ‘You were at the wedding?’
‘I was the Carter’s maid back then,’ said Lori. ‘I worked my way up through housekeeping to a management position. As I said, I’ve been at Riverview all my working life.’
‘So what happened at Meredith’s wedding?’
Lori arched her brow. ‘You mean the Olivia Martin business?’
Tess put down her drink. ‘Oh, don’t worry, this isn’t for the story. I don’t think any of our readers in England would know who Olivia Martin was. I just know that Brooke is curious; you must know there’s still some pretty nasty rumours about her father?’
Lori nodded.
‘Have you been out to see cottage twelve?’ she asked, lowering her voice a little.
Tess shook her head. ‘No, Sidney told me that there was someone in it.’
Lori pointed to a couple holding hands at a table on the far side of the restaurant.
‘That’s them having dinner over there,’ she said with a wry smile. ‘We can go and have a look quickly if you’d like?’
The grounds were quiet after the noise of the busy restaurant, the sky jet black and marbled with starlight. They skirted around the back of the house and followed the lantern–lit path, past a stone fountain and a small Japanese garden, until Tess could hear the low, rumbling sound of water.
‘What’s that?’ asked Tess.
‘The Mississippi,’ said Lori. ‘Folks are often surprised that she makes a little noise, but she’s a grand old lady.’
Finally they saw the cottage, its windows glowing orange. It was certainly private. There were just two other cottages within view. Using her pass–key, Lori let them in. Tess felt a sudden rush of adrenaline, partly from doing something slightly underhand, but also because she felt she was getting closer to the truth. There wasn’t much to the cottage, simply a living space, a bedroom, and a bathroom.
‘It’s all been changed since then, of course,’ said Lori. ‘But the layout is the same.’
Seeing the couple’s clothes and personal items everywhere, Tess began to feel a little awkward.
‘Shall we go back outside?’ she said. They closed the door and stood on the small veranda, leaning against the rail.
‘So what were you doing that night, Lori?’ asked Tess, her voice hushed.
‘Well, I was a drinks waitress. There were hundreds of people here, all very thirsty,’ she laughed. ‘The wedding was at four in the afternoon, then the wedding breakfast lasted until about eight p.m., and then there was dancing. There was a wonderful jazz band and at midnight an incredible fireworks display that folks said you could even see in the next county.’
Tess tried to put herself there, tried to imagine it was 1964 and that the party was going on all around her.
