While you were waiting, did you happen to notice anyone who shouldnt have been there?
There were just the people youd expect. The florists, the minister. The wedding party.
Names?
There was me. My daughter Wendy. The best man I dont remember his name. My ex-husband, George, and his latest wife.
Latest.
She sniffed. Daniella. His fourth so far.
What about your husband?
She paused. Edward was delayed. His plane was two hours late leaving Chicago.
So he hadnt even reached town yet?
No. But he planned to attend the reception.
Again, Sam glanced around the room, at the antiques. The view. May I ask what your husband does for a living, Mrs. Warrenton?
Hes president of Ridley-Warrenton.
The logging company?
Thats right.
That explained the house and the Mercedes, thought Sam. Ridley-Warrenton was one of the largest landowners in northern Maine. Their forest products, from raw lumber to fine paper, were shipped around the world.
His next question was unavoidable. Mrs. Warrenton, he asked, does your husband have any enemies?
Her response surprised him. She laughed. Anyone with money has enemies, Detective.
Can you name anyone in particular?
Youd have to ask Edward.
I will, said Sam, rising to his feet. As soon as your husbands back in town, could you have him give me a call?
My husbands a busy man.
So am I, maam, he answered. With a curt nod, he turned and left the house.
In the driveway, he sat in his Taurus for a moment, gazing up at the mansion. It was, without a doubt, one of the most impressive homes hed ever been in. Not that he was all that familiar with mansions. Samuel Navarro was the son of a Boston cop who was himself the son of a Boston cop. At the age of twelve, hed moved to Portland with his newly widowed mother. Nothing came easy for them, a fact of life which his mother resignedly accepted.
Sam had not been so accepting. His adolescence consisted of five long years of rebellion. Fistfights in the school yard. Sneaking cigarettes in the bathroom. Loitering with the rough-and-tumble crowd that hung out in Monument Square. Thered been no mansions in his childhood.
He started the car and drove away. The investigation was just beginning; he and Gillis had a long night ahead of them. There was still the minister to interview, as well as the florist, the best man, the matron of honor, and the groom.
Most of all, the groom.
Dr. Robert Bledsoe, after all, was the one whod called off the wedding. His decision, by accident or design, had saved the lives of dozens of people. That struck Sam as just a little bit too fortunate. Had Bledsoe received some kind of warning? Had he been the intended target?
Was that the real reason hed left his bride at the altar?
Nina Cormiers image came vividly back to mind. Hers wasnt a face hed be likely to forget. It was more than just those big brown eyes, that kissable mouth. It was her pride that impressed him the most. The sort of pride that kept her chin up, her jaw squared, even as the tears were falling. For that he admired her. No whining, no self-pity. The woman had been humiliated, abandoned, and almost blown to smithereens. Yet shed had enough spunk left to give Sam an occasional what-for. He found that both irritating and amusing. For a woman whod probably grown up with everything handed to her on a silver platter, she was a tough little survivor.
Today shed been handed a heaping dish of crow, and shed eaten it just fine, thank you. Without a whimper.
Surprising, surprising woman.
He could hardly wait to hear what Dr. Robert Bledsoe had to say about her.
IT WAS AFTER five oclock when Nina finally emerged from her mothers guest bedroom. Calm, composed, she was now wearing jeans and a T-shirt. Shed left her wedding dress hanging in the closet; she didnt even want to look at it again. Too many bad memories had attached themselves like burrs to the fabric.
Downstairs she found her mother sitting alone in the living room, nursing a highball. Detective Navarro was gone. Lydia raised the drink to her lips, and by the clinking of ice cubes in the glass, Nina could tell that Lydias hands were shaking.
Mother? said Nina.
At the sound of her daughters voice, Lydias head jerked up. You startled me.
I think Ill be leaving now. Are you all right?
Yes. Yes, of course. Lydia gave a shudder. Then she added, almost as an afterthought, How about you?
Ill be okay. I just need some time. Away from Robert.
Mother and daughter looked at each other for a moment, neither one speaking, neither one knowing what to say. This was the way things had always been between them. Nina had grown up hungry for affection. Her mother had always been too self-absorbed to grant it. And this was the result: the silence of two women who scarcely knew or understood each other. The distance between them couldnt be measured by years, but by universes.
Nina watched her mother take another deep swallow of her drink. How did it go? she asked. With you and that detective?
Lydia shrugged. Whats there to say? He asked questions, I answered them.
Did he tell you anything? About who might have done it?
No. He was tight as a clam. Not much in the way of charm.
Nina couldnt disagree. Shed known ice cubes that were warmer than Sam Navarro. But then, the man was just doing his job. He wasnt paid to be charming.
You can stay for dinner, if youd like, said Lydia.
Why dont you? Ill have the cook
Thats all right, Mother. Thank you, anyway.
Lydia looked up at her. Its because of Edward, isnt it?
No, Mother. Really.
Thats why you hardly ever visit. Because of him. I wish you could get to like him. Lydia sighed and looked down at her drink. Hes been very good to me, very generous. You have to grant him that much.
When Nina thought of her stepfather, generous was not the first adjective that came to mind. No, ruthless would be the word shed choose. Ruthless and controlling. She didnt want to talk about Edward Warrenton.
She turned and started toward the door. I have to get home and pack my things. Since its obvious Ill be moving out.
Couldnt you and Robert patch things up somehow?
After today? Nina shook her head.
If you just tried harder? Maybe its something you could talk about. Something you could change.
Mother. Please.
Lydia sank back. Anyway, she said, you are invited to dinner. For what its worth.
Maybe some other time, Nina said softly. Bye, Mother.
She heard no answer as she walked out the front door.
Maybe some other time, Nina said softly. Bye, Mother.
She heard no answer as she walked out the front door.
Her Honda was parked at the side of the house, where shed left it that morning. The morning of what should have been her wedding. How proudly Lydia had smiled at her as theyd sat together in the limousine! It was the way a mother should look at her daughter. The way Lydia never had before.
And probably never would again.
That ride to the church, the smiles, the laughter, seemed a lifetime away. She started the Honda and pulled out of her mothers driveway.
In a daze she drove south, toward Hunts Point. Toward Roberts house. What had been their house. The road was winding, and she was functioning on automatic pilot, steering without thought along the curves. What if Robert hadnt really left town? she thought. What if hes home? What would they say to each other?
Try: goodbye.
She gripped the steering wheel and thought of all the things shed like to tell him. All the ways she felt used and betrayed. A whole year kept going through her head. One whole bloody year of my life.
Only as she swung past Smugglers Cove did she happen to glance in the rearview mirror. A black Ford was behind her. The same Ford that had been there a few miles back, near Delano Park. At any other time, she would have thought nothing of it. But today, after the possibilities Detective Navarro had raised
She shook off a vague sense of uneasiness and kept driving. She turned onto Ocean House Drive.
The Ford did too. There was no reason for alarm. Ocean House Drive was, after all, a main road in the neighborhood. Another driver might very well have reason to turn onto it as well.
Just to ease her anxiety, she took the left turnoff, toward Peabbles Point. It was a lonely road, not heavily traveled. Heres where she and the Ford would surely part company.
The Ford took the same turnoff.
Now she was getting frightened.
She pressed the accelerator. The Honda gained speed. At fifty miles per hour, she knew she was taking the curves too fast, but she was determined to lose the Ford. Only she wasnt losing him. He had sped up, too. In fact, he was gaining on her.
With a sudden burst of speed, the Ford roared up right beside her. They were neck and neck, taking the curves in parallel.
Hes trying to run me off the road! she thought.
She glanced sideways, but all she could see through the other cars tinted window was the drivers silhouette. Why are you doing this? she wanted to scream at him. Why?
The Ford suddenly swerved toward her. The thump of the other cars impact almost sent the Honda spinning out of control. Nina fought to keep her car on course.
Her fingers clamped more tightly around the wheel. Damn this lunatic! She had to shake him off.
She hit the brakes.
The Ford shot ahead only momentarily. It quickly slowed as well and was back beside her, swerving, bumping.
She managed another sideways glance. To her surprise, the Fords passenger window had been rolled down. She caught a glimpse of the driver a male. Dark hair. Sunglasses.
In the next instant her gaze shot forward to the road, which crested fifty yards ahead.
Another car had just cleared the crest and was barreling straight toward the Ford.
Tires screeched. Nina felt one last violent thump, felt the sting of shattering glass against her face. Then suddenly she was soaring sideways.
She never lost consciousness. Even as the Honda flew off the road. Even as it tumbled over and over across shrubbery and saplings.
It came to a rest, upright, against a maple tree.
Though fully awake, Nina could not move for a moment. She was too stunned to feel pain, or even fear. All she felt was amazement that she was still alive.