“Thank you for calling. I’m sure it wasn’t easy.”
“Don’t tell my dad. He’d hit me if he knew.”
“I won’t. And if you ever want to get out of that house, I’ll help you.” He swung his Tahoe around to head toward the Outer Banks.
“I’m going to get out of here. I’m leaving with my boyfriend in the morning. Find Laura’s killer, Mr. Everton.”
“I’ll do my best, Samantha.”
“What about the woman who was with you? I can’t get her out of my mind. The way she said my name, the way she tucked her hair behind her ear.”
The hopeful tone in her voice tugged at his heart. Didn’t he owe her the truth? “She has Laura’s heart, Sammie. And she has some of Laura’s memories with it.” Her quick inhalation echoed in his ear. “But she’s not Laura, honey. Her memories of Laura’s death are helping us track down the murderer.”
“W-Will you call me when you arrest him? I just want to see justice for Laura.”
“I’ll do that. Will you still have this number?”
“I’ll keep it. Thank you, Mr. Everton. For everything.”
He ended the call and saved her number to his phone. Following Samantha’s directions, he drove straight to the cabin. The drive was a narrow dirt track back to a small cabin with a green metal roof. A porch extended across the front of the structure. A green Ford pickup, only its bed showing, sat along the side of the cabin. Must be Mosely’s. Assuming the man wouldn’t answer the front door, Marc went around to the back door and tried the handle. It opened easily, and he stepped into a dimly lit kitchen smelling of bacon.
On the other side of the wall, someone hammered. A radio played country music in the distance, and he caught a whiff of strong male cologne. The same one they’d doused the red sweater with. The door opened noiselessly, and he peered into a square living room.
A man with shaggy blond hair appeared to be building book-cases. He sang in a low baritone along with the music, an old Willy Nelson tune.
“Ryan Mosely?”
The man jerked around and faced him with the hammer held up as if to strike. Marc tried a smile and held up his hand in a placating gesture. “Hey, I’m not a robber. I’m investigating the murder of Laura Watson.”
Mosely’s eyes went empty. “I don’t know a thing about it. And you’re trespassing. You didn’t even knock.”
“If you don’t know anything about it, why did you follow us in your brown car and try to hit us?”
Mosely’s face went red.
“I don’t warn off easily.” Marc advanced into the room. “You were aboard that ship too. I have the manifest. And I know you were stalking her. What happened? She rejected you one time too many and you strangled her?”
The man gripped the hammer hard, but at least he lowered it. “It wasn’t me.” His smile was way too easy and practiced.
Marc took another step toward him. “Then who did? You were stalking her. Don’t tell me you didn’t see something.” Marc studied the man’s demeanor, the way he held his gaze, the way he didn’t blink. “Was anyone else hanging around her?”
Mosely’s mouth flattened. “Yeah, that loser Theo. But she soon figured out his game. He didn’t care enough to hurt her. And when I went back inside, I saw him reeling off with another woman to his cabin.”
He thought back to the memories Elin had. “Let me see your hands.”
Mosely stared at him, then extended his hands. “No scratches.”
“Like that’s what I’m looking for this far out from the attack. What about that ring, Mosely? You wear it all the time?” The ring had an R on it, and Marc dropped his hand a few inches closer to his gun. “My partner Will came to see you, didn’t he? You knew you had to get rid of him, didn’t you?”
Mosely took a step back, then the hand holding the hammer rose again, and he sprang toward Marc.
Marc sidestepped the blow and drew his gun, but Mosely’s arm came down too fast. The hammer smacked into the side of Marc’s head, and as he sank into darkness, he heard the man laugh before his footsteps faded into nothingness.
THIRTY-NINE
The rest of the afternoon stretched luxuriously in front of Elin. She’d dropped the car off to be serviced, and it wouldn’t be ready until three. She didn’t feel like shopping, even though the thought of planning the wedding enticed her. What she really wanted was an ice-cream cone and to visit with friends. Her call to Sara dumped her into voice mail.
With no choice, she bought a cone and ate it by herself at the picnic table by the road. Her phone rang, and she dug it out of her purse. Marc’s mother’s name came up on her screen. “Hey, Christine.”
“Elin, thank goodness I got you. I didn’t want to worry you, but it’s your mother.”
“What’s wrong?”
“She seems to have forgotten who I am and where she is. She’s locked herself in her bedroom and is wailing like a banshee.”
Elin’s stomach plunged. “My car is in the shop.” She noticed the bike-rental shop right next door. “But I can rent a bike and get to the ferry. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“I’ll let you know if things change.”
Minutes later, Elin pedaled out of town toward the ferry dock. There wasn’t much traffic today since it was the middle of the week with the next ferry not due in for two hours. The breeze lifted her hair and filled her nose with the scent of wildflowers. Her leg muscles burned with the unfamiliar task of riding a bike, but in a good way. She’d spent way too much time at a desk.
She eased up on the speed a bit when her heart began to thump in her chest. The doctor had given her the go-ahead for a normal life, but it wouldn’t pay to rush into exercise too quickly. Several cars passed, slowing down as they came abreast of her. The road entered a stretch of no houses, only maritime forest on one side and seagrass mixed into sand dunes on the other. The roar of the waves and the sound of the birds lulled her as she rode along.
Her phone rang, and she stopped to answer it. Christine again. “Josie coaxed Ruby out. She seems fine now. I hope I didn’t worry you too much.”
“Oh, good. Would it help if I talked to her?”
“I think it’s better if we don’t rock the boat. I’ll call you again if I need you.”
Elin ended the call and exhaled. Thank goodness. She wheeled the bike around in the other direction and headed back toward town.
Something thumped, and she thought she’d run over a rock, but then the front of the bike wobbled, and she realized the tire was flat. Great. Several miles from town without a car in sight. She dismounted and knelt by the tire. A nail gleamed in the side of the tire. She pulled out her phone and tried to decide who to call. Maybe the bike shop?
A truck slowed, and she glanced over to see a man smiling as he ran his window down. She smiled back, relieved she wouldn’t have to walk this thing back to town. But a prickle of unease settled along her spine at the sight of his blond hair, which was stupid. Lots of guys had blond hair.
He parked the truck. “Got a flat?”
The sound of his voice made her take a step back, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. “A bad one.” She pointed out the nail.
He opened his door and got out. “I’ll throw it in the back of the truck and take you to town. I was heading in for groceries anyway.”
“Uh, no thanks. My friend is coming this way shortly. I’ll just wait.”
“You mean Marc?” An easy smile lifted his mouth. “I don’t think you’ll see him for a long time, and if he survives the fire, he’ll have a pretty nasty headache from that hammer I hit him with. Though I don’t think he’ll survive the fire.”
It took a moment for his words to soak in. She had to find Marc, save him. She whirled to run into the maritime forest, but his hand clamped down on her arm as she went for her cell phone. She tore at his strong fingers, but he propelled her toward the truck as if she weighed no more than a child.
“You’re Ryan Mosely,” she gasped.
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“You’re too smart for your own good.” His fingers tightened on her arm. “You’re even prettier up close.”
Before she could react, his other hand came up, and she caught a whiff of chloroform on the cloth he moved toward her face. She went limp as if she’d fainted and shut her eyes, hoping he wouldn’t dope her. His grip loosened, and she dropped to her knees and rolled under the truck.
He made a grab at her but missed, and she scooted into the center where he’d have to crawl to reach her. She could see his boots, then he dropped to his knees and peered at her.
His face contorted with rage. “I’m going to make you very sorry you gave me so much trouble.”
He stood back up, and she watched his boots go around to the back. The tailgate scraped and banged as he opened it. Did he have a gun or something back there? She quickly sidled to the same side she came in under, hoping he’d think she would try another exit.
In a flash, she was on her feet and running for the forest. A shot whizzed over her head, and she hit the knee-high grass on her belly.
Then a shout came to her ears, a different male voice. She peeked up over the top of the weeds and saw Ben’s truck parked behind the green one. The rifle in his hands barked twice, and Mosely crumpled to the ground.
Elin jumped to her feet and swayed as the blood rushed from her head. Ben had saved her. She hurried toward him. “Mosely was going to kill me!”
“I know.” He put the gun down to his side. “I saw him aim the rifle at you. I was going hunting and had my rifle with me.” He raked his blond hair back with a hand that appeared a little shaky. “Are you all right? Did the bullet hit you?”
“No, no, I’m fine. Just scared.” When he put his arm around her, she let him lead her to his truck and seat her in the passenger seat. “Sorry to be so shaky. I–I didn’t think I’d be able to get away.”
“Let me get you to town and have the doctor look at you. You’re white and shaking.” He went around to the driver’s side and got in.
“What about Mosely?”
“He’s dead. I’ll have the sheriff come out and collect the scum.”
She exhaled and leaned back against the headrest. “Thank you, Ben.”
“You’re welcome.”
Several sandwich wrappers lay crumpled on the floor, and she banged her foot against a pipe wrench.
“Sorry it’s such a mess.” He ran up his window and cranked up the air-conditioning. He started the truck and accelerated away.
She grabbed her seat belt and reached down to lock it into place. A folder lay on the floor with pictures spilling out of it. Photos of her. Standing in the window at Seagrass Cottage, one even in her nightgown. Something squeezed in her chest, and she glanced up to see Ben staring back.
His gaze went from her to the pictures and back. Without expression, he reached to his door and clicked the lock on the doors, then flipped the child-protection switch before she could unlock her door.
“You killed Laura.” She couldn’t wrap her head around it. Not Ben, her own brother-in-law. “Why?”
“That was Mosely, not me.” His voice betrayed no emotion. “But I’d finally had enough of your rejection. I thought all the stink you made about remembering Laura’s death would be the perfect diversion. I could kill you and everyone would assume it was the same man who murdered Laura.”
Elin could barely force the words out. The darkness in his eyes sapped all the heat from her body. “And Lacy? Was that Mosely too?” When he shook his head, her knees nearly gave out. “You?”
“It was her fault. I stopped by thinking you were there, and she slapped me when she found me in the kitchen.”
“I don’t believe you. You had a red wig with you and made her put it on. You planned it all along.”
His eyes were fathomless, cold and emotionless. “Shut up, Elin.”
She tried to yank up the lock on her door, but it wouldn’t budge. Even her window wouldn’t roll down. “Let me out of here.”
“I can’t do that. You never should have broken up with me to go with my brother. That ruined everything, Elin. Everything.”
He terrified her. “You don’t want to hurt me, Ben. You’re my brother. You and I only went out a few times. It was a long time ago.” She wished she’d said nothing when he shot a look of such venom her way. She cringed back against the door.
“You’ve always been mine, and you always will be. My brother had no right to take you away. I made sure he paid though.”
Elin couldn’t breathe as she thought through what he’d said. Tim had suffered a heart attack and died within hours of Ben’s visit. “Did you kill Tim?”
The truck bounced over ruts, and he gripped the wheel and wrenched it back into the middle of the path. “He didn’t deserve to live with what he was putting you through.”
She remembered how Tim had shouted at her the day Ben was there. She’d buried so much of Tim’s treatment, thinking she deserved it, accepting the penance. “Oh, Ben, I don’t know what to say. He was your brother.”
“Half brother. Once he came along, Dad never bothered much with me. First Tim took my father, then he took you. He deserved what he got.”
“H-How did you kill him?”
“An injection of adrenaline. He was sleeping and I shot it between his toes, then left. I bet you never even saw the puncture mark.”
“I didn’t.” Her mouth felt like cotton. “Neither did the coroner, evidently. Where are you taking me?”
“Where we can be together forever.” The corner of his mouth twisted into a sinister smile. “They’ll find us sooner or later, you know. But it will be too late. We can be together in eternity.”
“Y-You’re going to kill me?”
He shot a glance her way, a softer one filled with pleading. “I’ll make it painless, my darling. You’ll fall asleep in my arms and we will go together. Just like Romeo and Juliet.”
If she could just get to her phone. She glanced at her purse on the floor where her phone peeked from a side pocket. Maybe once he got out of the truck, she could grab it and dial 911.
He must have seen her glance, because he reached down and slipped her phone loose. Rolling down his window, he tossed it out into the weeds. “No one can be allowed into our final time together.”
A scream built in her throat, but there would be no one around to hear. She didn’t want him to see her terror. “I’ll explain everything to them, Ben. Just let me go.”
Shadows gathered in the truck as it entered a patch of trees. When he didn’t answer, she yanked again on the door handle. Bushes scratched at the sides of the truck as it rolled deeper into the forest. Up ahead, the sunshine sparkled on grass.
A small seaplane sat in the clearing. An old metal hangar sat at the side of the road. He grabbed a garage-door opener and pressed the button. The door rose and he drove inside, where he parked the truck and grinned. “It’s go time.”
Something thick choked Marc’s throat, and he coughed. His head pounded like someone had used it for a punching bag, but he managed to open his eyes. Thick smoke roiled at the ceiling, and flames shot up the drapes at the windows.
Fire.
He staggered to his feet, then fell back to his knees as the smoke stole his breath. He had to get out of here. It all flooded back to him—Mosely, the attack. He must have set the fire and left Marc to die.
He crab-crawled back toward the kitchen where he’d entered. The smoke lessened a bit once he got through the kitchen door. He got to the front door and threw it open. The fire roared louder behind him at the fresh influx of air, and he rushed outside. Drawing in a fresh lungful of oxygen, he stumbled twenty feet away, then turned to watch flames licking around the edges of the metal roof and bursting out the windows. There was a final roar as the flames ate up the logs.
Mosely would go after Elin. He knew it. Fumbling for his keys, he paused long enough to throw up in the bushes, then hurried toward his Tahoe. He had to get to her.
Sara
felt as though she could float along the walk to Seagrass Pier without touching the ground. The ring on her hand already felt part of her. She wanted to share her joy with Elin. With her bare toes in the sand and the sun on her face, she walked along the sand toward the house. Gulls squawked overhead, and the salty spray swirled around her ankles with every incoming wave.
Life couldn’t get much better than this.
She saw no activity at the house, and no one came to the door when she pressed the bell. Cupping her hands around her eyes, she peered into the window and saw only an empty living room. She probably should have called. She walked to the top of a dune and looked into the harbor where she’d docked her boat. The boat she’d thought was Elin’s was one she didn’t recognize. Someone was here then, but who? And why was the door locked and everything so quiet?
Unease stirred, and she fished her key out of her purse, then went to the back door and unlocked it. Stepping inside the kitchen, she opened her mouth to call out, then stopped. Wait, maybe that wasn’t a good idea. If there was an intruder, he would be alerted to her presence.
A sound upstairs caught her attention. A sliding, scraping noise as if someone had opened a drawer. She pulled out her phone, then dialed the sheriff’s office. She told the dispatcher she’d discovered an intruder.
“Tom is out on a call right now, Sara, but I’ll send him along as soon as I can. You’re sure it’s an intruder?” Mindy Stewart asked.
“I heard someone upstairs, and I don’t recognize the boat. I think it should be checked out.”
“Okay, I’ll tell Tom. Let me know if it ends up being nothing.” Her tone indicated she thought that was likely.
“I will.” Sara hung up. Putting her phone on vibrate, she went back to the living room and tiptoed to the bottom of the stairs. Wisdom would tell her to leave, but what if Elin was in danger upstairs? Marc or his parents could have taken all the boats. Elin might still be here.
Sara looked around for a weapon, but before she found anything, she heard steps coming toward her. Spinning on her heel, she darted for the closet in the hall and left the door open just a crack.