Maria wondered sometimes whether Lester had truly been an accomplice or was simply another victim of Dr. Manning’s. Or maybe even both. Pete Margolis admitted after he woke from his coma that he was unsure who had shot him. Dr. Manning had called out, telling him to come in, but Margolis saw only a brief glimpse of a gun barrel poking through the gap in a closet door before he was hit. The only thing Maria knew for sure was that Lester and Dr. Manning were both dead, and neither would ever come for her again. But despite what they’d done to her and to Serena, she sometimes felt flashes of grief and pity for the Manning family. A young son who died in an accident, an older sister murdered, a mother long struggling with depression who committed suicide… She wondered who she would have become had those things happened to her, or had Serena died that night in the icehouse.
Glancing over her shoulder, she surveyed the crowd that had gathered on the lawn and silently counted her blessings. Her mom and dad were managing to keep their protective instincts in check, her job with Jill was hugely satisfying, and she’d used some of her severance package to refurnish her condo and buy a new wardrobe – and still had enough left over to start building a small nest egg. Last weekend, she’d even wandered into a camera shop and fallen in love with a wildly expensive UV lens. The water was warming, too, her paddleboard calling to her…
The wedding had been spectacular, though with Lily directing and stage-managing, Maria had expected nothing less. While Wilmington would always be home, Maria could see that Charleston definitely had its charms. Lily was ethereal in her wedding dress, a confection of floating satin, tiny seed pearls, and fragile lace. Evan had been dreamy-eyed as he stared at her during their vows at St. Michael’s Church. The oldest religious structure in Charleston, it was the preferred wedding venue for the more aristocratic families of Charleston, but when Lily drawled, “Why, I simply can’t imagine why anyone would want to be married anywhere else,” she somehow made it sound logical and sincere rather than snobbish.
On that awful night, Lily had miraculously escaped unharmed. Evan had been less fortunate, however. He’d emerged with second-degree burns on his back and a couple of broken bones in his leg. He’d been in a cast for nearly two months and had only recently begun walking without a limp again, in part due to his new exercise regime. His workouts weren’t quite up to Colin’s standards, but he’d confided to Maria that he’d been putting extra work in on his arms and was hoping Lily would notice on their honeymoon to the Bahamas.
They’d both had angels on their shoulders. Maria believed that as she’d seen Lily and Evan emerge from the Prius, and though some people might laugh at the notion, she didn’t care.
She knew.
Behind her, the wedding reception was in full swing, solemnity finally giving way to festivities. Lily had wanted the reception held at her parents’ spacious second home on the banks of the Ashley River, and as far as Maria could tell, no expense had been spared. A palatial white tent glowed with elaborately strung lights, and guests were dancing on a parquet floor before a ten-piece band. The food had been catered by one of the finest restaurants in the city, and the spring flower arrangements were works of art. Maria knew she’d never have a wedding like this; it wasn’t her style. As long as she had her friends and family – and maybe a couple of piñatas later for the younger guests – she would be happy.
Not that she was thinking of getting married in the near future. The subject had yet to come up, and Maria had no intention of asking Colin about it directly. In most ways, Colin hadn’t changed at all. He’d tell her the truth, and she wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the answer. She might be inclined to hint if the opportunity presented itself, but even the thought of that sometimes made her nervous.
Colin had only recently managed to resume his workout routine, but he was sometimes frustrated he wasn’t able to do the things he used to do, including MMA training. He needed at least another six months, the doctors insisted. The shotgun blast had torn through part of his shoulder muscle, leaving vivid scars and a weakness that might be permanent. He’d already undergone one operation on his hand, and another was planned in a few more months. The injury that concerned the doctors most, however, had been the skull fracture, and he’d spent four days in the ICU, near Pete Margolis.
Margolis had been the first one to speak to Colin when he regained consciousness.
“They tell me you saved my life,” Margolis had said to him. “But don’t think this changes anything about your deal. I’m still going to keep an eye on you.”
“Okay,” Colin had managed to croak out.
“They also tell me that Dr. Manning beat the crap out of you, and that Evan ended up being the one who finally took him out. I find that very hard to imagine.”
“Okay,” Colin said again.
“My wife said you came to check on me. Said you were polite, too. And that my friend Larry apparently thinks you’re pretty smart.”
His throat dry, Colin merely grunted this time.
Margolis shook his head and sighed. “Do me a favor and stay out of trouble. And one more thing.” He finally cracked a smile. “Thank you.”
Since then, Margolis hadn’t dropped by to check on Colin even once.
Maria sensed Colin’s approach and then felt his arm settle around her. She leaned into him.
“There you are,” he said. “I was looking for you.”
“It’s so beautiful by the water,” she said. She turned, slipping her arms around him.