Page 113 of Secrets Along the Shore (Beach Read Thrillers #1)

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

The ride into town was void of conversation.

I drove while Becca sat in the passenger seat, clutching the evidence box like it was a newborn.

My heart thudded in a rhythm too fast, but I couldn’t calm down.

Not with what we now knew—what we now had.

The air in the car smelled faintly of rosemary from the crushed leaves still stuck to my jeans.

The scent was nauseating now, a sickly sweet perfume masking years of evil.

Sheriff McNealy met us at the station with his usual skeptical look. He eyed the evidence box as I placed it on the desk. I could already sense his doubt.

“Before you say anything,” I began, pulling out a VHS cassette, “Can you play this? It’s from Scanlon’s study. I think he recorded one of his treatment sessions.”

Sheriff McNealy shook his head in aggravation but wheeled in a cart with a television and a DVD and VHS combo machine on it. He inserted the tape and crossed his arms. “What am I looking at?”

Static jumped on the flickering screen. Then an image formed, the camera appeared to be from above as though it might have been hidden in the room.

A young boy was sleeping on a twin-sized bed. It looked to be one of the bedrooms in the lodge. I peered closely and recognized the boy as one of the Bayberry students .

Suddenly, the door opened, and Nathan, a younger version, entered. He placed something over the boy’s mouth, awakening him for just a few seconds before he stilled again. Nathan reached into his breast pocket.

A syringe.

Nathan then injected the substance into his ear.

McNealy leaned forward, frowning. “Where did you say this was filmed?”

“At the lodge,” I said. “There are dozens of journals detailing the experiments. This one—this one proves his nephew Nathan was involved. He was working on…something with rosemary,” I added, sliding a journal across the desk.

“Hair growth in the ear canal. He thought it could create hearing where there was none. He then hypnotized us to forget the experiments.”

McNealy opened the journal, flipping through the notes, his brow furrowing.

“And that night…the Fourth of July,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady.

“Livvie wasn’t like us. She couldn’t be hypnotized.

These say he had tried numerous times until Livvie’s journals said she pretended to not know anything.

She lied to him—pretended it worked. But he knew.

She was scared. I figure Nathan realized Livvie had lied about forgetting.

I think she lied about being Deaf in the first place.

Or went through a psychological selective hearing loss because of some trauma in her home life.

Her parents agreed to let Scanlon do some experimental trials on her because they were embarrassed by her.

Livvie’s hearing had been restored that same year.

She was at the school for only kindergarten.

Scanlon then thought he had found a cure for deafness.

Only Livvie was never actually Deaf, but Scanlon didn’t know that.

He went off the deep end, trying to recreate the experiment with other students from the school.

With his nephew’s help. Only Nathan went too far when he realized Livvie remembered everything they had done.

The hypnosis didn’t work on her. Then she died. ”

The sheriff looked up slowly. “You think the nephew killed her?”

“I think he’s been killing all the students who took part. Over the years. One by one. Just in case they remembered. ”

“And you?” he asked. “You think you’re next.”

I nodded. “Because I remember now. I remember what he did to me. I remember the pain. The smell of rosemary oil. The needle. And I remember being locked in that room.”

McNealy leaned back, exhaling. He tapped a pen against the desk. “Why would Scanlon leave you his lodge if he didn’t want anyone finding out about these experiments?”

“I wondered that, too. I think he realized Nathan was killing everyone, and I was the last one left. Maybe Headmaster Scanlon thought he could save me if I figured it all out. I did. I also figured something else that he probably never thought about.”

“What’s that?”

“I went to the library and did some extra research that wasn’t in his study. I think he changed my name. I was born Katherine Nieves. My parents were killed in a car accident, and the school became my guardian.”

Sheriff McNealy sat forward. “I worked that case. Are you saying you are the missing child from the school?”

I nodded. “Not missing. Just reported as such, so no one would ever come looking for me as Scarlett McBride. Soon after he took custody of me, he staged my disappearance from the school.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know. At this point, he took that to the grave. Perhaps Katherine had living relatives.”

“She did. Katherine…uh, you have an aunt. I know this because she was my prime suspect in your disappearance. I had no evidence to arrest her, and she alibied out. The case went cold after that. A simple blood test will prove you’re lying about this.”

“I’m not.”

“Scarlett, you also said there was a body in your basement,” he said carefully. “We went there. We searched. There was nothing.”

“I know what I felt,” I stated loud and clear. I wouldn’t be made to feel like I was losing my mind. “It was dark, and I couldn’t see or hear. But I touched a boot. A leg. A body. Maybe someone moved it. Maybe Nathan came back. But that doesn’t mean this isn’t real.”

Becca crossed her arms. “She’s telling the truth. I don’t want to believe it, either, but I think we still need to find out. For my sister and all the others who have died.”

The sheriff hesitated. For a long moment, he stared at the screen, where Nathan’s face was paused in mid-motion, the syringe still in his hand.

“This…this tape is enough for me to open an investigation,” he said finally. “But it doesn’t prove murder. I can issue a warrant for unauthorized medical experimentation. That’s a start. And that may be all I can do.”

I slumped in the chair, relief and frustration battling inside me. It wasn’t enough. But it was something.

“Do it,” I said. “Start there.”

He picked up the phone and began dialing, nodding for us to head out. “I’ll be in touch.”

Becca and I stepped outside. The sun was coming up now, casting long shadows over the sidewalk, and I realized I hadn’t slept for over forty-eight hours. I glanced down the street and noticed someone going into the real estate office.

“I want to find Evan,” I said. “Something doesn’t feel right.”

Becca raised a brow. “You think he was involved?”

“I don’t know,” I replied. “But he hadn’t returned my texts. He completely blew me off but fixed my tires. I want to confront him in person.”

Inside the real estate building, a woman at the desk looked up.

“Hi, I’m looking for Evan,” I said.

She frowned. “Haven’t seen him since Friday. Didn’t show up yesterday at all. Didn’t call either. We figured maybe he went out of town?”

My stomach dropped. “Do you know where he lives?”

“We don’t usually give that information out.”

“I think something’s happened to him. Call the sheriff for the wellness check, at least.”

The woman pursed her lips then scribbled the address on a sticky note. “Last house on Maple Ridge Road. Right near the woods.”

Becca and I headed in that direction, driving while deep in our thoughts. As we pulled up to Evan’s modest home, a golden retriever barked frantically on the other side of a closed window. Mail poured out of the mailbox.

“Something’s wrong,” I said, jumping out.

The doors were locked, but the back window was cracked open just enough for me to wedge my hand through and push it up. The inside smelled of unwashed dishes and dog excrement.

I found the dog’s food and water bowls empty and filled them quickly. While the dog ate, I searched the house, paying close attention to some pictures he had hanging on the living room wall.

I quickly saw a picture of Becca in a group shot at the lake. I took it down and brought it to her.

Tapping her on the shoulder, she swung around, stopping at the photo.

“What about it?” she asked.

“You were friends?”

“Sure. We all grew up together.”

I looked at the picture. It was taken at Becca’s house. I scanned the faces, spotting Sheriff McNealy in the crowd. Becca looked to be about fifteen, just as I remembered her that last summer at the lake. “How old were you when this was taken?”

She looked at it again, squinting. “Not sure. Maybe fourteen or fifteen. Why?”

“I was at the lake during those summers. I don’t remember being invited, I guess.”

She laughed a bit. “I’m sure you were, but you only ever wanted to play with my little sister.”

I flinched at her callous comment. “I wanted to be accepted by the people in this town. I thought you and Livvie had. But maybe I was wrong about you.”

Becca rolled her eyes, looking about fourteen or fifteen years-old right now. “Can we just go home? Evan obviously is away for the weekend.”

The dog finished his meal and nuzzled my leg. “Come on,” I said. “You’re coming with us, pup.” To Becca, I said, “And he’s staying with me.”

We headed back through town, passing the sheriff’s station. But when we went by the building, the lights were off, and no cars were parked out front.

The sheriff was gone.

“What if he didn’t make the call?” I thought out loud, signing out of habit. Would Sheriff McNealy contact Nathan to warn him? Did they know each other? I had given him all the evidence I had. Now, I didn’t know who to trust.

“Who? What call?” Becca asked from the passenger seat. The dog sat in the back seat between us, moving his head back and forth. Becca held Evan’s framed photograph.

I noticed her thumb covered the right side. It felt like she was covering a certain person…someone standing next to her.

“Why’d you take Evan’s picture? You can’t keep taking people’s photos. I let you take the other one because your sister was in it, but you’ll have to give that picture back to Evan.”

“I’m sure he won’t miss it.”

I faced forward, stunned by her selfish comment. I knew Becca had a lot of trauma in her life, but that didn’t excuse stealing. Still, I held my tongue and drove her home.

At her house, I pulled in. She opened the door to step out and removed her thumb from the picture to pull the handle. I waited for the opportunity to sneak a peek. It was fast, but I only needed a split second to catch the familiar face.

Nathan Scanlon.

Becca not only lied to me about never seeing the man again after that night, but she knew him as a friend and always had.

And so did Evan and Sheriff McNealy.

They were all lying. And they were all covering for the man.