I ran down the path and skidded onto the beach, panting. The stretch of sand was empty now, ghostly in the glow of the moonlight. The steps to the terrace had been left unguarded. Seeing Derek had scared me so much that I was tempted to get the hell out of there before he came looking for me. But this was the chance I’d been waiting for. The guard was occupied with Derek. I could sneak into the party, find Connor, and tell him my news. It was now or never.
Under the tent, the bodies were tightly packed, and the air was overheated and humid. A band played at one end, in front of a dance floor jammed with guests swaying to the music. I felt conspicuously underdressed amid the beautiful, lavishly turned out women. Surely, somebody would stop me and demand to know what I was doing here. But as I melted into the crowd, I realized that these people had been partying for hours, on somebody else’s dime. They were drunk and happy and not the least bit interested in me. The bigger problem would be locating Connor in the vast sea of people.
I weaved my way across the terrace in one direction, then back in the other, several times with no luck. Just outside the tent, people came and went through French doors that led into the house. The party continued inside. Maybe Connor was in there. Nobody stopped me as I stepped into a spectacular ballroom with high ceilings and a glittering chandelier. It was less crowded inside than on the terrace, and a quick scan told me Connor wasn’t here. I took a moment to appreciate the grandeur of the room. All along the walls, tables staffed by waiters in tuxedos groaned with beautiful food. I’d barely eaten in days, and suddenly, not only did I feel better—I was famished. I went from table to table, piling up my buffet plate high with slices of roast beef, perfect little roasted potatoes, mini-tacos, wedges of cheese—anything that caught my eye. I took my haul and skulked like a thief back to the tent, where I faded into the crowd, found a dark corner, and stood there, stuffing my face.
Naturally, that was the moment I spied Connor. He was with Nina and two other people. The surging crowd eddied around them, and the lights picked them out as if calling on me to pay attention. Seeing Connor took my breath away. Tall and tan in a white shirt and cream-colored blazer, he positively shined in the light. I wanted to be with him, touch him, feel his skin, taste his mouth, hear his voice. But as I watched, he pulled at Nina’s arm, and she flinched away. Seeing them together—in real life, not just in the tabloids—shook me. He wanted her attention. She wouldn’t give it. I felt sick with shame for getting involved with a married man, yet riven by jealousy, seeing him with his wife. He belonged to her. Not me. Coming here was a mistake. Unless—was I misunderstanding? Maybe she flinched because she was angry. Maybe she was angry because he’d told her he was leaving. If only I could talk to him and find out.
The couple they’d been speaking with walked away, leaving the two of them alone. They continued talking. Nina gestured angrily. I handed my plate to a passing waiter and took a step forward, then back, my eyes glued to them, unsure what to do. If only he would look over and see me. How could I get his attention? What if I called him, right now? If he had his phone on him, at least I could see whether it rang through, and I’d know if I was blocked, or if he was screening my calls. And if he answered, I could tell him to meet me down on the beach.
I pulled out my phone and swiped his number. From across the tent, I saw him pat his jacket, then pull out his phone. I wasn’t blocked. My heart raced. He turned and walked away from Nina. Before he could answer, someone grabbed my arm from behind. The phone slipped from my fingers and crashed to the floor.
“Hey! What the—?”
It was the security guard. Up close, he was scary-big, with a nose that had been broken before, a freshly split lip, and angry eyes.
“Gotcha. You’re coming with me, lady. Now.”
“My phone!”
The security guard grabbed it and forcibly escorted me toward the terrace stairs. I was hoping that we would catch up with Connor, but instead of turning onto the beach, he yanked me back toward the path where he and Derek had been fighting.
“Take your hands off me,” I said, struggling. “I’ve done nothing wrong.”
He wouldn’t let go.
“Tell it to the police. They’re waiting to arrest you for trespassing.”
“I wasn’t trespassing. I was running from my ex. You saw him. He’s dangerous. He has a criminal record. He’s been harassing me, and I was afraid.”
“Yeah, right.”
“I swear. Did you arrest him? Where is he now?”
“You tell me.”
“He got away? Please, you have to find him. He wants to hurt me. I’m not safe with him on the loose.”
He studied my face like he was trying to decide if I was credible.
“Tell me the truth. Were you two trying to rob the house?” the guard said.
“No. I wasn’t with him. This has nothing to do with this house. Derek was following me. He’s been stalking me.”
“If that’s true, why weren’t you running?”
The reality was, I hadn’t known Derek was behind me until I saw the two of them grappling on the path. And I was trying to crash the party. But if I told the guard that, he’d have me arrested.
“I—I was running, but, I mean—”
“You know what, lady? Tell it to the cops. Let’s go,” he said, and led me up the brick footpath.
To the left, Windswept loomed. To the right, I saw a paved motor court and a six-bay garage. Cars lined the motor court, parked closely together with numbered tags stuck beneath the windshield wipers. With a start, I noticed a black Chevy Suburban, parked nose-out in the line. It had tinted windows similar to the SUV that had run me off the road up north. It couldn’t be the same one, could it? But, why not? My original theory was that Nina had me followed and had one of her goons run me off the road. If that was true, the Suburban could very well be parked at Windswept. It would have a New York plate on the back, and a damaged passenger door from sideswiping me. I couldn’t tell from this distance. I’d have to examine the car, but the guard had no intention of letting me do that.
We continued on the path, crossing a wide lawn and turning onto a gravel driveway. Up ahead, lights flashed. A police cruiser was parked just inside the open front gates. The guard marched me up to it, and shook hands with the uniformed police officer, who was a tall, broad-shouldered woman with dark hair pulled back under her police cap. They nodded at each other like old acquaintances.
“What the hell happened to you?” the officer asked, tapping her lip in the same spot where his was split.
“Ah, friggin’ mope jumped me.”
The officer looked back and forth in disbelief from me to the hulking security guard.
“Not her. The guy she was with. He got the jump on me and ran off. I went looking for him, but no luck. I found her, though.”
“You didn’t find us together because I wasn’t with him,” I said. “Officer, please, I can explain. My ex-husband attacked this gentleman on the path—that much is true. But I wasn’t with him. I was running from him. I didn’t mean to crash the party. I just turned into the first place I saw to get away from him.”
“Can I see some ID, please?”
I handed her my driver’s license.
“My ex has a criminal record. I divorced him while he was in jail. He’s really pissed about that. He followed me here tonight. I think he wants to hurt me.”
“Were you a guest at this party?” the police officer asked.
“She was not,” the guard said.
“Let her answer, please.”
“No, like I said, I just ran into the party to get away from Derek. I came to the Hamptons for the weekend. I was—visiting a friend. I noticed a car following me at times, but I didn’t know it was him until I saw him behind me on the beach. I ran up to the house to get away.”
“Did you witness any of what she’s saying?” the officer asked the guard.
The guard frowned. “I saw her walking down the beach with the guy behind her. Not running, though.”
“He was behind her? Not with her?”
“Yes,” the guard said grudgingly. “Then she turned up the path onto the Windswept grounds, and he followed. I went after them for trespassing. He turned around and sucker-punched me, and we fought. He got away.”
“Well, if you saw him behind her, then maybe she’s telling the truth.” The officer turned to me. “Do you have a restraining order against this guy, or anything else that corroborates your story?”
“I don’t, because the cops back home told me there wasn’t enough evidence for one. Derek’s been harassing me ever since he got out. Coming by my work, saying he wants me back. But he wasn’t violent. Not until tonight, anyway, when he attacked this gentleman,” I said.
“Wait one minute,” the guard said. “I found you fifteen minutes later, hanging around at the party. If you were so scared, why not run while your husband was busy fighting me?”
“I did run. I ran into the party and tried to blend into the crowd. I thought I’d be safer with people around, instead of down on the beach all alone.”
“Look, miss, give me his name and I’ll check him for priors. Let’s see if we can back up what you’re saying,” the officer said.
I gave her Derek’s name. She got in the cruiser, where I saw her typing information into a screen on the dashboard. A few minutes later, she came back.
“Yup, checks out,” she said. “Derek Cassidy, did five years for opioid distribution, released six months ago, currently on probation out of Manchester, New Hampshire. Steve, is this the guy who jumped you?”
She held out her phone, displaying Derek’s mug shot.
“That’s him.”
“I say we let her go, and you and me search the grounds for this jerk,” the officer said.
The guard’s phone buzzed. He pulled it from his pocket and looked at it.
“I’ve got another situation I need to take care of,” he said. “Anyways, I looked for him already. He’s in the wind.”
“He’s on probation and he assaulted you. I’ll look for the guy myself if you’re too busy.”
“Uniformed police in the house is not gonna make my employer happy, Beth.”
“It’s not about making Mrs. Levitt happy. It’s about keeping the streets safe.”
“How about this? You search the surrounding area. Forward me that mug shot. I’ll give it to my team, and we’ll look for him on the grounds.”
“Okay.”
They exchanged information. The security guard pointed at me.
“You, off the premises.”
“Fine, I will. Give me my phone.”
He handed it back to me and walked off. The officer was holding my driver’s license. She took a photo of it.
“I’ll put your name in the report,” she said, “so you have a record that he was following you and assaulted the guard who tried to stop him. You can use that to request a restraining order. Hoping you won’t need one, though. If I get him tonight, he’ll be charged with assault for jumping Steve, and go right back to jail.”
“You can do that? How long would he go away for?”
“A new assault charge, while on probation? A year, at least.”
“That would be a huge relief. Thank you, Officer. I’m really grateful.”
“You have a ride home?”
“I’ll call an Uber.”
She nodded. “Give me a ring tomorrow to request a copy of the police report. It’s Officer Rossi, Southampton PD.”
“Will do.”
“Stay safe.”
She got in the cruiser and drove off. I waited until she was out of sight, then checked to make sure nobody was watching. Near the gatehouse, a couple of valets in white jackets waited for guests to come request their cars. They paid no attention to me. I was free to leave. Or not. I could go look for Connor, or I could address a more pressing concern—the black Suburban with tinted windows that I’d seen parked in the Windswept motor court just moments ago. It must still be there, since I hadn’t seen it drive past me and out the gate. It had a tag on the windshield, like it had been valet parked. If that was true, then it belonged to someone who was legitimately present at Windswept tonight—a guest at the party, or perhaps one of Nina’s employees. It might not be the same Suburban that had run me off the road. But it might, and I needed to know. The way to tell would be to examine it for possible damage to the passenger-side door caused by sideswiping another car.
I retraced my steps, down the driveway, across the lawn to the motor court. Windswept was crazy big, its motor court as large as a mini-mall parking lot. I threaded my way among the rows of vehicles, searching for the Suburban. Just as I saw it ahead of me, I heard footsteps behind, and dropped to the ground, terrified that it was Derek coming to find me. I waited, heart pounding. A car door opened. An engine started. And I pulled myself up, looking through the windows of the vehicle that had sheltered me to see one of the valets drive off in a guest’s BMW.
Before I got interrupted again, I hurried to the black Chevy Suburban that I’d seen before, approaching it from the rear. It had deeply tinted windows, and now I saw that it also had a New York license plate. I took a photo of the plate with my phone, then flicked on the flashlight, kneeling down to examine the passenger-side door.
And there it was. A visible scratch, and a swath of paint in the same faded blue as my Toyota.
This was the same car, parked at Nina’s house. Nina Levitt had tried to have me murdered. That security guard had my name. What if Nina found out I was here? I wouldn’t be safe until I told Connor what she’d done, and that I was pregnant. He’d make her stop. He’d have to.
A streak of light soared toward the clouds, followed by a loud boom. The sky lit up with bursts of blue and red and gold, diffused by the haze of the atmosphere. I ran toward the beach, where I’d last seen Connor. But when I got there, it was no longer empty. The party had moved there, and hundreds of people now milled about, watching the fireworks. The ocean was rough from the storm, and massive waves pounded the sand. I walked up and down, searching for him in the crowd to no avail.
As the fireworks display reached its crescendo, the air filled with thunderous bangs and the smell of sulfur. Only after it ended, and the guests began to drift away, did I finally see Connor. He stood about a hundred feet away in the thinning crowd, but he wasn’t alone. He was with the guard who’d stopped me earlier, and with Nina. The three of them conferred, silhouetted against a smoky, red sky—Connor, his wife, and the man they’d hired to keep out the people who didn’t belong. The trespassers. Like me.
This whole trip had been a waste. There was no chance of speaking to Connor alone. The truth was, if he loved me as he claimed, he would have gotten in touch before now. He hadn’t. Time to recognize this situation for what it was and admit defeat. Time to go home.