Page 231 of Secrets Along the Shore

Becca’s mouth twitched, then a small smile. “Scarlett, you were always so dramatic. What are you talking about?”

Stunned, I glared her way. “It’s time, Becca, to tell the whole truth. You want to know what happened to Livvie? Tell us about this boy.”

Becca looked at me for a long moment. Something moved behind her eyes—regret, maybe, or rage. Maybe both. Definitely a vacancy crossed her expression. She glanced at the photo and touched Livvie with one finger, tracing her sister’s face.

“She was so beautiful.”

I reached to tear the frame from her hands, but Sheriff McNealy was faster. He yanked me back before I made contact.

“She kidnapped me last night,” I blurted. My promise to Becca was over. I would spill all the details. “Look at my wrists. She put handcuffs on me when I went to her house for help.”

“Okay, McBride,” the Sheriff said, his face heavy with disbelief. “Maybe Becca’s right, and you do have a flair for the dramatic. If she kidnapped you, then why is she in your kitchen having a cup of tea? Nothing you’re saying is matching up.”

Sheriff McNealy turned to Becca. “I’m sorry, Becca. You don’t need this. Keep the photo for your collection. I can’t do anything with it. Scarlett, let me hire a moving company to pack this place up. It’s obviously too disturbing for you.”

“Talk to Evan. He saw the car. He must have fixed the tires.”

The sheriff’s phone buzzed, and he checked the screen and frowned. “I haven’t seen him today. I need to head back to town for a real call. I’m a little worried about you out here, Scarlett. I don’t see any evidence of a body, but if it will make you happy, I can come back to test for blood. Will that make you feel better?”

I felt myself growing annoyed with everyone, including thislawman. He was proving to be useless. But I still needed his help. “I would appreciate that. Thank you. Also, can you contact Monroe for me? I’ll need him to fix the electrical box. I’m not looking forward to another night of darkness in here.”

“Will do.”

“Great, and when you talk to Evan, tell him he lost the listing. I’ll find another agent. Maybe Scanlon’s ex-wife. She’s the only one in this town who seems to be honest.”

McNealy nodded absently, still reading a message. “If you don’t like it here, then it might be time to leave this place behind. Are you thinking of settling here?”

“No, definitely not.”

“Then pack it up and walk away. Let the real estate agent and lawyers handle the sale. Take the money and go live your life.”

“I will. But not yet. I have some things I need to know first.”

“Like what? What could Scanlon’s old files and books possibly tell you?”

“Why he chose me, and not just back in school, but why did he leave this place to me?”

“Who cares? Take the money and run.”

Sheriff McNealy left, and I stood on the porch watching him go, while the rosemary swayed in the surrounding wind. The scent drifted toward me again, intoxicating and sharp.

Did I dare believe the responses it gave me as real memories?

I stepped off the porch and crossed to the edge of the garden where Tabitha worked.

“Why so much rosemary?” I asked.

She shrugged and faced me. “Scanlon liked it. Said it helped the children. Helped them heal.”

“How?”

“He refined it to oil. Oils from certain plants are medicinal. He always cared about your wellbeing.”

I kneeled beside her to see her lips clearly. “Did you ever see him do something with the oil?”

She clipped a branch, her hands steady. “I kept to the garden. That was my job.”

“So, no, you didn’t see what he did with it.”