Page 235 of Secrets Along the Shore

I nod, swallowing the sudden rise of nausea in my throat. “That’s him.” My voice feels raw from disuse and something deeper. “And now he wants to buy the lodge.”

“That’s who?” Clarice asked, reaching for the phone, but Becca lowered it before Clarice made contact.

Becca turned her screen toward me again, zooming in on the image. No name was written to identify the people in the picture, but the resemblance was unmistakable. Same dark eyes. Same smile that doesn’t quite meet them. Just fifteen years older.

“He’s the CEO of the pharmaceutical research company. They claim to focus on memory recovery, neural reprogramming, and auditory regeneration.”

Auditory regeneration. My stomach dropped.

My fingers ached from how tightly I gripped the pen. I had been so close to giving this man everything he wanted.

I pushed back from the table, sending the papers back toward Clarice. “The answer is no. I won’t be selling to this corporation or to this man. Ever.”

“What man?” Clarice demanded. “Show me who you mean.”

I nod to Becca to turn the phone to face Clarice.

A moment later, Clarice inhaled in shock. “That’s Nathan, Aaron’s nephew. I had no idea he was part of this company. He kept it secret, even from me.”

“Of course he wants the lodge,” I say, feeling my voice trembling. “It was his uncle’s testing ground. He knows there are still things here. Journals. Records. Maybe even samples. Things I can take to the police and have him arrested for. He had to be livid to learn he didn’t get the lodge in the will. That I did. I won’t sell to him. Ever.”

Clarice snatched the paperwork up with a twist to her lips. “It does seem underhanded for him to trick you into selling. But I do have to be honest and tell you it will be a hard sell to anyone else.”

“I’d rather burn the place to the ground.”

“You may have to,” she said and left the house the same sweeping way she had entered, her perfume still marking her presence even after her headlights disappeared into the night.

“He’s coming for the lodge. If not through Clarice, then some other way.”

Becca rubbed her face with both hands. “He was there that night. He might know something. We need to talk to him.”

“You saw him?” I squinted at Becca. “Are you saying this was the boy you were with?”

Becca nodded slowly. “He took me for a ride on his motorboat. And kissed me. Then he dropped me off, and I never saw him again.”

The memory of the motorboat came to my mind. Long dangling hair. A girl hanging limp in someone’s arms.

“Becca, don’t you understand? That man most likely killed Livvie.”

“No!” Becca stood so fast, her chair went flying into the wall behind her. “You killed her. She went to meet you. I was with him. He couldn’t have. He liked me.”

“No. I’m sorry, Becca, but he didn’t like you. He played you…to get to your sister. Get dressed. We’re taking the evidence to the sheriff.”

CHAPTER

NINETEEN

The rideinto 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.