“What else was I supposed to do?” James stared at me with hollow eyes. “If I confessed, if I told anyone what had really happened, I would have gone to jail for the rest of my life. And you know what? Hannah would still be dead.”

“How is it possible the police never found the shovel?”

“Parker took it back to the beach and rinsed it off in the water, and then put it back in the car. I guess that must have been when he picked up the ring. I don’t how we got away with it, but we did. We got away with it. We kept it a secret for over twenty-five years.”

“Until now,” I said quietly.

“Maggie, you have to know . . . I never meant to hurt Hannah. I was out of my mind that night.”

I nodded. I believed him. I just didn’t think it was a good enough excuse for murdering the woman he loved.

“Everyone keeps talking about how Hannah needed attention. Thrived on it, sought it out. Did it ever occur to you that what she really needed was to feel safe? Isn’t that what we all want, on some fundamental level?” I asked.

James stared at me wordlessly.

“But you didn’t keep her safe,” I continued. “Instead you hurt her. You killed her. You robbed her of her future.”

James moved toward me, kneeling by my side. He took my hand in his and looked at me urgently.

“And I’ve regretted that every minute of every day since. I would do anything to take it back. But I can’t. So I’ve spent my life determined to be a better man because of what I did that night. A better father. A better doctor. A better husband. That has to count for something.”

I shook my head sadly. “Oh, my love. It doesn’t work like that.”

Chapter Twenty

On the day of James’s fiftieth birthday party, the weather forecast had been dire. It was supposed to pour all afternoon and evening, and there were even thunderstorm warnings in effect. Luckily, the meteorologists were completely wrong, and the day ended up being gorgeous. It was warm, but the humidity was low, so the caterers were able to set up the bar and high-top tables outside, so our guests could set down their glasses and plates of hors d’oeuvres while they chatted.