15

May had her laptop open on the kitchen island, staring at the screen in frustration. She had been searching for information about the missing man since Kelsey had driven off, but to no avail. Even with the benefit of the area code from the flyer, which covered the entire state of Rhode Island, the name was simply too common, and every online search she tried seemed to bring up a hundred different David Smiths.

“Total waste of time,” May said as she sat back on her stool and crossed her arms.

Lauren was picking at the cinnamon roll, shaking her head with disapproval. “Will you please just give this up? You are not going to find that man in a sea of a million people with the same name, and even if you did, what exactly do you expect to learn? You’re going to play Sherlock Holmes from a computer and figure out where he is? He obviously has someone looking for him. And if he’s wearing Gucci sneakers, they probably have the resources to find him without your help, May. This isn’t your job.”

May typed in another search: David Smith Rhode Island wealthy. Among the hits were a quote from someone named David Smith who said that “art isn’t made for the wealthy,” a statement from a Rhode Island state senator that the wealthy needed to pay their fair share, and a wealth manager named David Smith. She clicked on the wealth management firm’s website, but the picture wasn’t a match. “Not our David Smith,” she reported.

“He is most definitely not ours, May. You’re letting that crime-obsessed imagination of yours go wild. The note was just a joke. I’m sure they laughed it off and threw it away. Think about it.”

“But what if you were actually right? What if he really was cheating, and that note made his girlfriend check his phone or whatever? That’s exactly the kind of fight that can set off domestic violence.”

“Okay, I’ll give you that.” Lauren sighed, wiping her fingertips on a paper napkin. “But think, May. If he wasn’t cheating, there’s no way an anonymous note is going to lead to a fight like the kind you’re talking about. He’d show her his phone or do whatever he needed to convince her the note was a prank. Will you give me that?”

May nodded reluctantly.

“And if he was actually cheating, the police who are looking for this man will find that out. They’ll read his texts. All his emails. Check out his dating profiles or whatever. It always comes out once the police start to look. Aren’t I right about that?”

May conceded that point as well.

“And they’re also going to find out where this man was going. They’ll ping his phone or whatever voodoo they do. He’s probably paying for stuff on a credit card. Isn’t that what the police will do?”

May had to admit that everything Lauren was saying was true and led to an inevitable conclusion. “Yes,” she conceded, “which means that we really can’t tell them anything they won’t find out on their own.”

Lauren had been nodding along as she spoke. “So we’re good now?” Her face fell when May hesitated.

“There could be cameras on Main Street, though. What if they see Kelsey leaving that note there? And if there’s footage of us getting back into the car, it’s Josh’s license plate.”

“Then they’ll trace the plate, Kelsey will have to tell them about her little prank, and you won’t have anything to do with it. But there’s no need to call attention to it for now.” When May said nothing more, Lauren walked around the island and gave her a quick hug. “We’re on the same page?”

“Yeah,” May said, nodding in agreement.

“And I’m sorry for what I said about you being a DA and the police and all of that. It was a lot.”

“No, I appreciate when you share those things with me. It’s important.”

They were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. “We’re here!” There wasn’t a hint of tension in Kelsey’s voice, let alone any indication that she had run off with May’s keys and cell phone.

It had been almost eight years since May had last seen Nate, and she hadn’t been sure what to expect. As he stepped through the door, backpack slung over one shoulder, she noted the spray of gray at his temples and a few fine lines around his eyes, but those eyes were still dark and intense, and he had a jawline that could cut glass.

Now that she was seeing him again in person, the stark differences between Josh and Nate were even more obvious. The dark hair and medium build were about the only similarities. Where Josh’s energy was laid-back and goofy, Nate had always been a bit edgier—an adult version of the boy you’d cut class for to smoke cigarettes behind the gas station.

“You look good, Hanover.” She felt a tingle at the nape of her neck as he pulled her into a hug, and hoped no one could see the flush of her skin. Damn it. What was wrong with her? “So what have you birds been up to so far?”

May was quiet as Kelsey and Lauren walked Nate through their weekend. Friday-night dinner in Montauk. Saturday at Main Beach, followed by takeout from La Fondita. Sunday-morning shopping, pool day, then 1770 House. The weekend had gone so fast.

While Lauren was asking Nate about the train ride, Kelsey pulled May into the living room. “I’m sorry I ran out like that, but—”

May held up a hand to stop her. “I already talked to Lauren. You guys were right. Let’s just let it go, okay?”

“Oh my god, thank you, May. Thank you, thank you, thank you. And I really am sorry for taking your stuff. I totally panicked.”

“Yeah, that was pretty bitchy.”

“Love you?” Kelsey said, wrinkling her nose.

“Love you too.”

“And I saw the way you and Nate were looking at each other. You sure there’s not something still there?”

“I’m happily engaged, Kelsey.” She held up her left hand, ring forward, for emphasis.

“I believe that’s what the lawyers would call nonresponsive.”

“Stop being a shit-stirrer.”

“Well, that’s no fun. For what it’s worth, I think he was flirting with you.”

As May led the way back to the kitchen, she realized she was smiling.