Page 52

CHAPTER THIRTY

I t was nearly ten o’clock, but energy hummed in Forbes's veins.

The truth of what had happened to his family was laid out on his father’s desk. He just needed to decode it amid all Brooklynn’s notes, Forbes’s notes, Dad’s notes. All the noise.

The killers were right there.

He stared at the names and initials and dates and numbers. Most were still unidentified. They blurred in his vision.

Brooklynn’s hand slid up his back. “I have an idea.”

“Good, because I’m fresh out.”

“Why don’t I make a few calls?”

He faced her. “To whom?”

“Ian Prescott. He owned that charter company with Leo Taggart—the one that used the seagull logo. There’s been no indication that he was involved in anything.”

“Or Dad didn’t know about him.” Though Dad had seemed to know a lot.

“Fair enough. But he doesn’t know where I am, and maybe he could shed some light on Leo. Maybe he could…I don’t know, either confirm what we believe or turn us in a different direction. He’s smart, and he’s been in Shadow Cove all his life—well, except for college, I guess.”

“He’s the mayor, right? You said he’s ambitious.”

“Ambitious, yeah. But also savvy and…” She shrugged. “Ian likes me.”

Forbes would bet he did.

Brooklynn smiled. “Not like that. He’s married with children.

But he thinks I’m talented, and he’s always asking my opinion about things—visual stuff, like artwork for the town offices and landscape layouts, as if I have any clue.

He’s the one who roped me into managing the Old Home Days booths.

He thinks I’m more competent than I am.”

“I suspect you’re the only one who doubts your competency.”

Her lips twisted to the side as if she didn’t agree. “Well, anyway. It was just an idea. I don’t know what else to try.”

“It’s ten o’clock.”

“It’s literally a matter of life and death.”

Forbes didn’t like it. It was possible the smugglers already suspected Brooklynn was researching what had happened to Forbes’s family twenty-five years earlier. If she called Prescott and he was involved, then she’d confirm it.

On the other hand, she was already their target. And Forbes didn’t know what else to do.

“Don’t tell him where you are or who you’re with.”

She rolled her eyes. “You think?” She found the number, muttering a low “sheesh.” The phone rang, then went to voicemail. She tapped a text at top speed.

Seconds later, her phone rang. She connected the call, putting it on speaker so Forbes could listen. “I’m sorry to bother you so late.”

“Not a problem, Brooklynn. I assume it’s not about Old Home Days.”

“It’s about what happened at the Haunted Inlet a few days ago.”

“I’m sorry they haven’t gotten you home yet. I know Taggart’s working on it.”

Brooklynn shot Forbes a sardonic look.

“I don’t want to get into all the details tonight, but I wanted to ask you a question about the charter company you and Chief Taggart used to own.”

“That?” He sounded purely surprised. “What about it?”

“Was it very successful?”

He laughed. “No, unfortunately. I think Leo was trying to supplement his income—he was still a uniformed cop back then—but we couldn’t get enough business to keep it afloat. Pun intended.”

She smiled as if he could see her through the phone. “How involved were you in the day-to-day?”

“Not much. I was just getting my law practice up and running. I invested and managed the legalities. He managed the tours and paid the employees.”

“How long was the business open?”

After a pause, Ian asked, “What does this have to do with anything?”

“It’s kind of a long story, and I promise I’ll fill you in one of these days.” She didn’t add more, just waited.

Finally, he said, “A few years. The money was good at first, but then it petered out. I think he just got too busy with work and family to manage it. When his father died, he got a decent inheritance.”

For some reason, that information had Brooklynn’s eyes popping wide.

“He decided the business wasn’t worth all the time it was taking,” Ian continued.

“Between the money his father left him and the proceeds we received for the boat—he’d repaired it and fixed it up—he had a nice nest egg.

Bought that big house, and as far as I know, must’ve invested smartly. He’s lived well since then.”

“One more question. The logo—the seagull in the circle—was really similar to Arthur Whitmore’s. Was that a coincidence?”

“I remember a spat between Arthur and Leo about it. Arthur used the logo first, but after Lois and Arthur married, she talked Arthur into changing his. In retrospect, he should’ve hung on to it, considering the charter business only lasted a couple of years.

Arthur’s work will be around a lot longer than that. Like yours, I think.”

“Thank you, Ian. I hope you’re right.”

“Anything else?”

“That’s it for now.”

“Good, good. You’ll tell me everything? I am the mayor, you know. I need to know what’s going on in my own town.”

“I will, in good time. Do me a favor and don’t tell Leo I called?”

Forbes winced, wishing she hadn’t said that. It would be better if Leo didn’t know they were on to him, but was it a good idea to let this man know? Leo’s old friend?

A long silence followed Brooklynn’s question. “I need… He’s my chief of police, Brooklynn. I trust him.”

“I’m not asking you not to trust him. I am asking you to trust me for a few days. That’s all.”

“A few days.” His tone was more serious now, all amusement and solicitousness gone. “And then I expect an update.”

“Fair enough. Thanks, and apologize to your wife for my late call.” Brooklynn ended the call. “It’s Leo,” she said. “No question.”

Forbes hadn’t concluded that at all. “Why?”

“The inheritance. Lenny told me Leo and his father had had a falling out, and Lenny’s grandfather cut his dad out of his will. He put all the money in a trust for his grandchildren.”

“Was the man wealthy?”

“Maybe not Ballentine-fortune wealthy, but I got the impression Leo had been expecting a good chunk of cash. The point is, Leo told Ian that he received an inheritance, but according to Lenny, he got nothing.”

“So the nest egg Ian mentioned, the nice house?—”

“The money had to come from somewhere.”

Forbes’s pulse raced. They were getting so close.

“I’m convinced,” Brooklynn said. “But we can confirm it.”

“How?”

“You said you would recognize his voice, right? Assuming he was there that night?”

Forbes swallowed, her suggestion coming clear. He nodded.

“I’m going to call him.” She lifted her phone. “Lois sent me his number the morning after the storm.”

“Wait.” Forbes’s anxiety spiked, not wanting Brooklynn anywhere near that man. Not wanting her on his radar at all. “What are you going to say?” They discussed it, and though he didn’t like it, he saw the wisdom in her idea.

She put the phone on speaker and dialed.

Two rings in, the man answered. “Chief Taggart.”

His voice… Was it familiar? He didn’t know, not yet.

Leaning against Dad’s desk, Forbes closed his eyes to better focus his hearing. A low hum carried below Taggart’s words. An engine, or perhaps road noise?

“Sorry to bother you so late, Chief,” Brooklynn said. “I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I witnessed an incident at the Hidden Inlet the other day, and I’ve been in hiding ever since.”

“I’m aware.” His voice was gruff. He was older than the man Forbes had heard talking to his father. But twenty-five years had passed. “Len tells me you’re out of town.”

Her eyes widened, but she didn’t miss a beat. “Right. I’m staying with friends in New York.”

She was a quick thinker.

Odd that Lenny hadn’t told his father the truth, though.

“Is there any update on finding Bryce Dawson?”

“He’s still in the wind, but we’ll pick him up. Just a matter of time.”

“And Shane doesn’t know where he is?”

“Claims he hasn’t seen his nephew in years.”

The background noise made it hard for Forbes to hear.

Brooklynn and Forbes had decided she should ask him everything she could think of about the case, even though neither expected him to tell her the truth. It was what she’d do if she didn’t suspect him.

“Any update on the photographs?”

“Nope. Ask Church.”

Loquacious, the chief wasn’t.

“That’s the thing.” She briefly explained the incident at the library. “When I was hiding, I reached out to Nathan, but as far as I can tell, he never reported it. He never sent anyone to help me. I’m worried he’s involved.”

“Huh. You’re sure he understood your text?”

“I haven’t talked to him.” She tapped on her phone and recited to the chief the text she’d written to Nathan.

The engine noise or whatever it was lessened in the background.

“You asked for help, and he didn’t send it.” The chief paused. “All right. I’ll take care of it. If he’s dirty, I’ll find out, and he’ll be held to account.”

Forbes sat heavily in Dad’s leather chair, the chief’s voice resonating in his head.

You’ve left us no choice.

The words were as clear as they’d been that day.

Then, the gunshot.

His father fell.

The scene replayed in his head on a loop.

It had been Leo Taggart. There was no doubt. The man who’d sworn to protect and defend had murdered Forbes’s father. Then he’d turned the gun on Mom.

He’d hunted Rosie, caught up with her in the basement, and killed her too. An innocent teenage girl.

And now, the same man was after Brooklynn, and if he caught up with her, her future would be the same as his family’s.