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CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE

THE KELLERS

“This is a bad idea, Sarah,” Bob says, looking around the opening in the brush leading down a path to the sea caves. “You need to wait for the task force.”

“That’s what I’m doing. McCray is a few minutes out.”

He side-eyes her. Waves crash in the distance and trees rustle in the strong wind. Bob is rarely tense, rarely uptight about anything, but in the moonlight she sees worry in his eyes.

Less than ten minutes until reinforcements arrive. But water is already filling the cave, if the internet tidal charts are right. They might already be too late.

Maybe she’s wrong, maybe the kids aren’t here. But the puzzle pieces finally fit.

Mark and Blane made the PrankStool video that shows Stella coming to, screaming when she sees Natasha Belov covered in what she must have thought was blood. Then someone else—Felix? Libby?—appears at the scene. Mark and Blane run off and the video goes dark.

Then what happened? The video doesn’t answer that. But it was posted on Tuesday, the night Natasha was last seen, according to the time stamp on the PrankStool site.

Later that week, a young woman—Libby?—makes an anonymous tip that Natasha is missing.

Mark Wong visits his father, asks about getting a lawyer.

Libby and Stella are in a fight about something.

Then all the kids disappear the night of the Parents Weekend dinner.

Who would have a motive to take them all?

Someone seeking revenge for what The Five did—what they must’ve done to Natasha Belov that night on the beach. Someone who loved Natasha so much that they crave vengeance, want whoever caused her death to pay, to suffer the same way their daughter did by drowning in that sea cave.

Bob is quiet as he paces on the dunes.

“They’re just kids,” Keller adds. “I can’t wait for too much longer.”

“We have kids too, Sarah.” It’s the second time he’s used her first name, a rarity. Usually it’s G-woman, Agent Bad Ass, Hot Mama, or some such.

“And honestly,” she says, trying to ease the tension, “when’s the last time we got to go out alone on a date?”

A vehicle pulls into the lot near the opening and McCray appears. He holds a flashlight.

“It’s nearly high tide, we can’t wait,” she says to McCray. But it’s really for Bob.

“Sarah…” her husband says.

“You both wait here,” McCray says. “I’ll check it out.”

Before Keller can protest, McCray starts down the path.

Keller faces Bob.

He shakes his head, angry. “Please don’t do this.”

“I’ll be okay. The rest of the team will be here soon.”

“I’m coming too, then.”

“No,” she says definitively. “You’re not trained. And it will get me in trouble. And I need you here to show them the way.” What she doesn’t say is that she can’t put both of them at risk. For the twins.

McCray has disappeared down the trail.

“Promise me you won’t go into the cave,” he says, relenting. “It’s not just getting trapped in there that can kill you. People have been sucked out into the ocean by the riptide. I’m serious, Sarah.”

Keller turns, looks toward the parking area above for any signs of the team. Looks for strobes or flashlights.

“I love you,” she says, then she turns and runs down the path.

She catches up to McCray. He’s stopped at a fork on the trail. He puts a finger over his lips like he’s listening for something.

Keller’s heart is thrumming. The tide is climbing high up the rocky shore.

McCray whispers into her ear: “I think I see someone over—”

His sentence is stopped short by the explosive sound of a gunshot.