“Okay. Why?”
“We’re going to the damn wedding venue.”
* * *
Ben meets me outside his hotel, and we drive to the Byrd Estate. I take us slowly through the winding dirt road that leads up to the event center. Huge, old trees provide shade, and the historic house looms up ahead, a large white tent set up behind it. I can’t imagine what kind of masochists are having an outdoor wedding in August.
A woman in an alarmingly bright white suit scurries out of the house as I park and we get out of the car.
“Well, hi, y’all!” she says. “Are you my five thirty?”
“No,” I say.
Her smile falters, but then she spots Ben. “Ben! How nice to see you again!”
“Hi, Trudy.” He swings his bag over his shoulder, holding his portable mic in one hand. The light is on; he’s recording. “Sorry to just show up unannounced.”
“Oh, it’s fine. What can I help you with?”
“Do you mind if Lucy and I take a walk around? We want to see if anything jogs her memory.”
She recoils at my name. “Oh. Well … sure, if you think it will help.”
“I fainted last time we did this, but I’ll do my best to stay upright this time.” I try to sound flippant, but my voice actually trembles a little.
I don’t think Trudy notices, because she just frowns at me. “You may tour the Byrd Estate at your own risk.”
“Thanks, Trudy,” Ben says. She turns and walks back into the building, casting a disapproving glance over her shoulder.
“You want to tell me why you wanted to come here today?” he asks me once she’s gone.
“Because maybe you’re right. I’m very sad to contribute to your already wildly overinflated ego, but, yeah. You’re right that I haven’t really tried to remember. So here we are.”
“I think my ego is average-sized.”
“Ben, focus. And we both know that it is not.”
He rolls his eyes. “All right. What should we do—” He stops as a truck rumbles up the road and comes to a stop on the other side of the parking lot. Matt jumps out.
“I invited Matt, by the way.” I wave to him.
“What the hell, Lucy?” he calls as he strides over to us. “You didn’t tell me the podcaster douche was coming.”
“Podcaster douche is recording, by the way,” Ben says, holding up the microphone.
“Of course you are.” Matt stops beside me, his fingers brushing against my arm. I move away.
“If it makes you feel better, she didn’t tell me you were coming either,” Ben says.
It doesn’t appear to make Matt feel better.
“I need someone who was there to tell me what we did that night,” I say. “Otherwise, we’re just going to be wandering aimlessly.”
“Lucy, are you sure…” Matt begins softly, but he trails off, glancing at the mic. He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Fine, whatever. I’ll walk you through it.”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
“Thank you,” Ben says, flipping him off with his free hand.
Matt returns the gesture and then turns around, pointing at his truck. “I parked over there. Like Colin said, we got here before him and Savvy, and we talked to a couple in the parking lot, but not him and Savvy. The Nelsons.”
“What did you talk about?” Ben asks. “Do you remember?”
“Only because I told the police at the time. It was just small talk—the weather, how hot it was already for May. Just a quick conversation, and then we all went that way.” He points. “It was an indoor reception.” He walks around the house, and we follow him to the side doors and inside the room.
It’s empty, chairs stacked in a corner. There’s a bar at the back of the room, and my sandals click against the wood floor as I walk across it.
“Does it look familiar?” Ben asks.
“Only because I’d been to other weddings here, before that night.” I turn to Matt. “Do you remember how it was set up?”
“Like a wedding? I don’t know.” He points across the room, opposite the bar. “DJ was over there. I’m pretty sure the tables were set up along the sides? Round ones? We were sitting…” He turns in a circle, then points in the direction of the bar. “Oh! We were near the bar. I remember, because Colin said something about it. Something like, ‘Cool, easy access.’”
“Nice! Right next to the bar. Best seat in the house.”