Page 230 of Secrets Along the Shore

I locked my gaze on her through the doorway and remembered my promise to her. And I would keep it.

“I’m not sure. I guess I was too freaked out. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

He gave me a measured look and removed his flashlight from hisbelt, right behind his gun holster. “Let’s take a look together. Shall we?”

I glanced back at Tabitha and found her watching me, paused in her work, meeting my gaze. Her expression was unreadable, but something in it felt like a warning. Or maybe that was just my paranoia clinging to everything like a shadow now.

But the body would prove I wasn’t going mad.

I entered the house and led the sheriff to the basement door, needing to vindicate myself. We descended the stairs, but knowing I would see the dead man now in the light of Sheriff McNealy’s beam, I moved slowly as I came around to the back of the steps.

My breath caught in my throat as I stared at nothing but empty concrete.

Nothing but my smashed phone.

No body. No blood. No scuff marks or evidence that anyone had ever been here, except for me.

“It was right here,” I whispered, pointing to the space under the stairs. “I touched him. He was real.”

Sheriff McNealy scanned the space with his flashlight. “There’s no sign of anything. No drag marks, no blood. If someone moved a body, they did a good job cleaning it up. Are you sure you didn’t grab that pipe along the wall?”

He shined his light on a long metal pipe that ran from one end of the basement to the other.

“It was a boot.” I said, pulling at my hair, trying to remember the feel of the tread on the sole. Not metal. But the body was cold. Could it have been a metal pipe I grabbed? Was I wrong? Had the panic and sensory deprivation made me hallucinate it all? My knees buckled slightly, and I leaned against the wall.

“I believe you believe it,” McNealy said, holding his light up to his face so I could see his words. But all the beam did was cast him in a vicious light. Not what I needed at the moment. “Just like the tires. But you look unwell, McBride. When was the last time you slept? Or ate?”

“Too long,” I muttered, realizing I had other deprivations too. What did he mean by unwell? Like I’m losing my senses? Was I? “My tires were slashed. I know what I saw.” I looked at the concrete. “And I know what I felt. I may be Deaf, but my other senses work fine.”

“Okay, let’s get some air. Maybe this secret room you mentioned has something more tangible.”

“Yes. I want you to see it all. Then you’ll know what happened in this place. And you won’t think I’m going crazy.”

I led him up to Scanlon’s bedroom and into the hidden study behind the bookcase. The air seemed minimal as I shared the space with this tall man. I pointed to the photograph I’d found—the one with Livvie and the man in my dream. I’d left it on the shelf when Becca found the syringes.

“Do you recognize this man?”

Sheriff McNealy picked it up, squinting at it. “Not a local. But maybe. Can I take this? I’ll cross reference it to other photos.”

“I think he was the man who performed experiments on me and erased my memory.” I moved to the cabinet with the syringes. But not it wouldn’t budge. “The proof is in here. Where’d that crowbar go?”

“Crowbar? Experiments? Okay, Scarlett, let’s go downstairs. This is an interesting study, and I can help you box all Scanlon’s things up and get them to his family. I think the task is exhausting you. Come on, let’s get out of this dusty place.”

Together, we returned downstairs, the photograph still in the sheriff’s hand. Becca was sitting at the table in silence, her eyes wary as we entered.

McNealy held up the picture. “Do you know him?”

I was glad he was asking. If this was the man Becca had been with that night, I wanted to see her admit it.

Becca took the photo in her hand. But all I saw were tears fill her eyes as she studied it. “Olivia was so beautiful. She would have been twenty-five now. I don’t have this photo.”

“But what about the man in it? Scarlett says this man abused her. Do you know him?”

Becca’s eyes widened as she glanced up at me. “He hurt you? I’m so sorry, Scarlett. You remember now? I thought it was just a dream.”

“A dream?” Sheriff McNealy’s raised eyebrows were back as heglanced my way. “You’re accusing someone based on a dream? Scarlett, I can’t do anything with that.”

I stepped forward quickly. “Becca, that night…Livvie tried to warn me. She didn’t want me to come to your side of the lake. She said it wasn’t safe. She said you took her flashlight. That you were with a boy. Sheriff McNealy—” I glanced back at the man “—tell her you heard that too. Ask her if this was the boy.”