once loved so much under the five o’clock shadow he was sporting. “What are you doing here?”

“Kara called and told me what happened. She was worried about you and asked me to stop by.”

Dammit, Kara! Why did I even call her and tell her? She had far more important things to worry about than her mother witnessing a stranger taking their own life. I knew the answer to that question all too well, because ever since my mother, who was my confidante, passed away, Kara had taken her place. “Well, she shouldn’t have bothered you with such foolishness. It’s all under control.” Stopping by for Jack meant driving over an hour from his office to the beach house.

“What happened?” He raked his hand through his dirty-blond, tousled hair that camouflaged his grays so well.

“I don’t know. It was all so fast. I was sitting on the beach, and when I stood up to go in, I saw him. I screamed out to him. I even raced down to the water to try and stop him. I went in as far as I could, but it was too late.”

“You went into the ocean during a nor’easter?”

“I-I…” I shook my head, only then realizing how foolish that was of me.

“What were you doing sitting on the beach in this weather?”

I didn’t like the accusatory tone he was taking with me, as if he was questioning a suspect instead of someone he knew more than half his life. “I was just sitting on the beach…thinking. Is there a crime in that?” My reply was sharp and defensive.

“No.” He shook his head and walked over to the same kitchen window I had been staring out of just moments ago. “Were you drinking?” he asked as his eyes shifted from the kitchen window to the empty wine bottle on the counter.

“Why the hell is that any of your business? Am I a child now who’s not allowed to have a glass of wine?”

“It looks like you had more than a glass,” he said, picking up the empty bottle.

“You know what? I don’t need you to come here to check up on me, and I sure as hell don’t need you to lecture me. Don’t you have someplace more important to be or someone more important to do?”

“Damn it, Steph, grow up!”

“Oh, I did grow up a long time ago. It’s you who seems to think you’re perpetually twenty-one.”

He let out an exhausted breath and inched closer. “You witnessed something major. If they don’t find a body or even if they do, there’s going to be a lot of questions for you, and if you were impaired in any way, that’s going to make a difference.”

“What? So what are you saying, I imagined the whole thing?”

“No, that’s not—”

“Excuse me.” The police officer who I had been talking to earlier interrupted. “I’m sorry. The door was open and—”

“It’s fine. Did you guys need more coffee?” I asked.

“No, we’re good. I’m Detective Lansing.” He introduced himself to Jack.

“Jack McGuire, Stephanie’s husband.” Jack extended his hand to the detective.

“Ex-husband,” I muttered under my breath.

“What do you know so far?” Jack asked.

“Oh, sir, with all due respect, I’m not at liberty—”

Jack reached into his pocket and flashed the detective his FBI credentials, and it was like some secret code that instantly caused the detective to spill his guts.

“We’ve got guys searching three to four miles up the beach. With the tide being the way it is, we’re thinking the body may wash up somewhere around there. We did find this in the sand.” The detective held up what appeared to be a necklace. “Does this look familiar to you?”

“No, I never saw it before,” I said once I got a closer look at the gold chain containing a heart-shaped locket with the name Annie inscribed on it.

“We’re not sure if it came from the victim or if it was dropped by some other passerby on the beach. We’re sending it to the lab for any potential prints, but it’s doubtful because of all the elements outside,” the detective explained.

“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed that you’ll be able to get something out of it,” I remarked.

“Ms. McGuire—” the officer began.

“Stephanie,” I interjected.

“Stephanie, do you remember anything about what this man looked like?” he continued.

“I really don’t. I saw him from a distance and his back was toward me. He was tall. He was wearing khaki pants and a green jacket. His hair was…” I paused for a moment, trying to remember the color. Everything happened so quickly it was hard to remember. “His hair was a little on the longer side…dark?” I posed that last fact more like a question instead of a fact. “I’m really sorry. I wish I could be more help.” I sighed in frustration.

“It’s fine,” he replied half-heartedly as he swept the area with his eyes. “I’ll keep you posted on any new developments,” he directed his conversation to Jack. As he hesitantly turned to exit, he spun back around to face me. “Stephanie, forgive me for asking this, but you weren’t taking any medication or anything else that may have altered your memory, were you?”

I glanced at Jack’s poker face, which wasn’t giving me any indication of how to answer him, so I went with the truth. There was no crime with having a glass of wine. It wasn’t as if I went out and drove afterward, causing an accident. This man decided his own fate, and it just happened to be in front of me when he did. “I had some wine,” I answered.

The officer scratched his head. “How much would you say?”

“I don’t see what you’re getting at here.” My tone rose in defense.

“Steph, just answer, please,” Jack murmured.

“I don’t know, maybe two glasses.” I stretched the truth a little, but how dare he come into my home and accuse me of any wrongdoing when I was just sitting on the beach minding my own business? “Look, I know what I saw, so

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