by Jill Cooper
I sneak around a utility closet and peek into the main room where the guests are gathering. Soft string music plays as the wealthy and elite gather. Floor to ceiling windows line the room, and the view of the ocean with the lighthouse is the perfect backdrop to the fundraiser. There are tables with food, and politicians work the floor. Everyone’s in their best attire, making me feel woefully underdressed.
Before I head out, I grab a blue tablecloth from a shelf in the back and tie it around my waist like a maxi-wrap skirt. It’s not perfect, but it has to be better than what I had going on before.
I head out into the main room carrying an empty tray under my arm and try to fit in like I belong and know what I’m doing.
Hardly.
I walk by a tall woman in an elegant dress when Mr. Davis steps out from the appetizer table and cuts me off from going any further. Who knew he’d be here? When I scan the room, I realize everyone is here.
Jackson and Carolyn Sinclair immediately dart looks over to me.
I see Martin Alistair, popping olives into his mouth, but when he sees me, the olive rolls right off his tongue and onto the floor. It’d be comical if I wasn’t freaking out a little bit.
“Ms. Chase, what are you doing here?” Mr. Davis smiles politely, but I see rage in his eyes. “I told you to keep a low profile.”
“I just thought I’d check things out. See what all the fuss was about.”
“Fuss? A fundraiser to keep our mayor in office? It’s just part of our civic duty. I don’t expect you to understand, but if you would follow me to the exit…” He puts his hand on my forearm and tries to lead me away.
But I really don’t want to go. “I’m almost old enough to vote. Don’t you think I could stay and learn a thing or two?”
Mr. Davis pushes his jaw together. “I really don’t see how. You’re underdressed. You didn’t buy a ticket. You—”
“She can be my guest for the day. Don’t worry about it, Harold.”
I turn to see Martin Alistair coming toward us. Instantly I can see what Amber might have seen in his younger self. Tall, with a strong jaw and chin, sparkling intense eyes, and dark wavy hair. He might be the total package if he were my age. He carries himself with confidence with a regal way of walking.
“Thank you.”
He offers me his hand. “You may call me Martin. I’m pretty sure I know who you are.” When he smiles, he has dimples just like his son.
I raise my eyebrow. “Everyone seems to. I’m just trying to find out a bit more about life here. Maybe learn a thing or two about Ms. Amber Chetwood. From what I hear, you knew her pretty well.”
Mr. Davis clears his throat. “Maybe this conversation would be better held—”
Martin holds up his hand. “Your services are no longer necessary, Harold. Have another drink at the bar on me.” His glare intensifies, and it sends Mr. Davis back. The headmaster adjusts his tie and walks off.
“Now,” Martin puts his arm around my shoulders. “Who was it that told you about my relationship with Amber?”
Does it matter? I decide not to go the defensive teen route. “Your son mentioned it.”
He smiles. “Amber and I did know each other. I was very fond of her. For awhile, we dated, but it wasn’t meant to be. At the time, my heart was broken, and when she went missing, I was devastated.”
“Is it true you were with her when the bones were discovered in the shed?”
He pulls back a bit and wipes his thumb across his lips. “You’re not a journalist, are you?”
I chuckle and try to make it sound good-natured. “I might’ve read a few articles in the archives.”
“Because you look like her? It makes sense. I’d be curious, too, if I were you.” Martin licks his lips. “I was there, yes. Back in those days, Jackson and I were fighting for her hand. Things were tense, but I wanted Amber to be happy. I just went there to express that to her.”
“At midnight?”
Martin laughs. “You’re a teen. You know how it is. You can rush into things without thinking, and I was no different, but I only meant the best for her. I…my feelings for her ran deep.”
“I’m sorry for your—”
“You’re still telling that phony narrative?” Jackson asks. He steps away from Carolyn, a half-empty glass in his hand. Carolyn reaches for him, but he shrugs her off.
Martin turns to face Jackson with a sigh. “Maybe you should learn to let this go. You weren’t the only one who lost Amber. Or who loved her.”
Jackson sneers. “You didn’t love her. You were obsessed with her. She was terrified of you. You raped her, and everyone knew it!”
Raped her? My mouth falls open at how different this story is to the one Martin had just been telling me.
“Hey, you better shut your mouth, Sinclair. Or I’ll stick my lawyer on you for slander. There’s no proof to any of your bullshit lies! You hear me? You thought you were Amber’s shining knight, but you couldn’t save her, could you?”
Jackson’s eyes grow wide and scary—I can see the whites all the way around. “You sonofabitch.” He grabs Martin by the collar and pulls him in close. “You killed her, didn’t you? Didn’t you! Just admit it.”
“Go back to your prison warden.” Martin pushes him away.
Jackson pulls his arm back and levels Martin with one punch, pushing him down to the floor. Carolyn squeals and runs forward, grabbing her husband’s arm. I jump back, and my mouth hangs open at what I’ve just witnessed. It never would’ve happened if I hadn’t been here.
“You’re a pig!” Jackson points at Martin, who is rolling over and wiping blood from his lip. “You never had her best interests at heart, and it got her killed, didn’t it?”
“And you did? You couldn’t put Amber first. Never. You failed her just as badly as I did. Go back to your hole.”
“This will never be over. You hear me?” Jackson sneers and storms toward the entrance, like a hurricane left behind in his wake.
Carolyn glares at me on her way out. “Stay away from us, you piece of trash.”
I’m shocked by her words. My mouth falls open, and I stare after her.
Mr. Davis steps in front of me with his hands in his pockets. “What did I tell you about keeping our secrets buried? The storm that’s coming, you’ve brought it on yourself. You’ve brought it onto all of us.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
I feel shell-shocked as security approaches. Mr. Davis bails, which I’m not torn up about, but Rebecca Hale steps up. “There are consequences for doing what you are doing. Your mother never should’ve moved you here.”
“She’s working for your office.”
“Despite my best attempts.” The mayor raises her hand. “Security will escort you out.”
“Not necessary. I’ll—”
Two men block my way when I try to sneak by. One of them puts his hands on my shoulders. “It’ll be our pleasure, Mayor Hale.”
I take the tablecloth skirt off and toss it onto a table on my way through the corridor. They keep me close by with a hand on my arm, which I don’t appreciate. We navigate through the kitchen, and I tense. “I’d rather go through the front door.”
“We don’t need a scene. We’re taking you out the back. The mayor doesn’t need your picture showing up in the paper for her fundraising campaign.”
One of the guards opens the rear door, and I’m guided down. I worry there will be a car outside and people will never hear from me again. That’s how conspiracies work, right?
I’m surprised to see Martin waiting outside, his hands in his pockets. He smiles. “Ahh, there you are. I’ll take it from here. Thank you, gentlemen.”
The guards pause. “We’re supposed to escort her home.”
“My car is here.” I swallow hard. I don’t want to go anywhere with either of these groups.
“I’ll see she drives herself home. There’s no reason to make a scene. The press is right around the corner, after all.”
Everyone
falls for it, but even I’m not sure how honest he’s being. Once security moves on, Martin steps back. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
“I’m surprised you even want to speak to me after what I just set off.”
“You couldn’t have known what would happen. Jackson Sinclair has always been explosive. Maybe if I lived the sheltered life he did, I’d feel trapped, too. But if you think I killed Amber, you’re barking up the wrong tree. You need to be careful of that family, not of mine.”
We reach my car, and Martin pulls the driver’s side door open. “No offense, but I’m still working out who I can trust and who I can’t.”
“I didn’t kill Amber, Jessica.” He says it so sincerely, I’m moved to believe him. There’s genuine heartbreak on his face. “If she’d chosen me over the Sinclairs, she’d still be alive. I believe that with all my being.”
“Did you do what Jackson says you did?” Pensively, I study his face.
“Amber and I had a misunderstanding, but I never raped her. I thought her resistance was a game. I never meant to hurt her the way I did. I was humbled by her pain.” Martin pauses. “When I saw your picture in the Portland paper, I thought it was meant to be.”
“Why—”
“Before you ask, I was visiting the Portland area for business. That’s why I invited your mother to come work for me.”
“You did it to get me to town?”
Martin nods. “I knew having you here would stir up trouble. I’d churn this town’s crap up to the surface. Seems my little plan might be working better than I thought. I’m sorry, Jessica, but now I really need to go.”
He turns his back to me and walks away. I don’t know what to say. Was he the one who was also paying for my Gregory scholarship? It must be him, but I’m at a loss for words. He used me as bait. He knew how the town would react, and he did it anyway.
He was manipulative and conniving, but did that also make him a killer?
I just don’t know.
“Well, you’ve had a busy day,” Maxx says after I call her when I get home.
“Tell me about it.” I walk into the kitchen with my phone to my ear. I grab a bag of popcorn and toss it into the microwave. “I think I really pissed Carolyn Sinclair off.” Come to think of it, I might’ve pissed everyone off.
“Can you blame her? Imagine being married for nearly twenty years, and your husband is still hung up on his dead high school sweetheart.”
I can’t imagine it, but it’s not hard to see he’s unhappy.
“If I were you, I’d steer clear of Mr. Davis for the rest of the school year. He doesn’t like it when the boat is rocked.”
“Just call me Jaws.”
“How’d things go with Winnie? Did her head turn all the way around?”
I laugh. “Nope, and it went fine. Still, I think she’s the most likely source for who ripped up the homecoming dance posters. Maybe she even sent me the threatening messages.”
“Seems a bit too high tech for Winnie. She might want to threaten you, but she’s not that motivated.”
“What about you? Have you found anything?”
“Not yet. I’m digging into it, though. Want to come over and hang out? We could dig through a list of suspects.”
“My mom’s out grabbing pizza for movie night. Want to come over here?” I wait for the microwave to stop beeping before I take the popcorn out. I rip it open and let it cool off, and as it does, I gaze out through the back window. It’s already twilight, and I don’t have a great view of anything other than our backyard. I lock the backdoor, just in case. Maybe I am a little jumpy.
“Not tonight, but you guys have fun. If I find anything tomorrow, I’ll call you.”
“Sounds good. Were you able to charge the phone?”
“Yeah, but it’s not powering on. Something’s wrong with its motherboard. I’m soldering a new chip on.”
“You can do that?”
“On these old phones, sure. It’s delicate work. I just hope I don’t fry it.”
I hope so too. “Good luck. Call me if you get anything.”
“Will do. Catch you later.”
I end the call and pour the popcorn into a bowl. I grab two cans of soda from the fridge and bring them into the living room where I set them on the coffee table. My phone vibrates in the other room, so I go to fetch it.
There’s a text from an unknown number. ANSWER YOUR DOOR.
I bite my lip and start to type a reply when a knock comes from the front door. My heart leaps up into my throat. I turn around. In the living room, I stand and stare at the entrance.
The knocking only grows louder. More insistent.
Who is this? I reply. No answer.
But the knocking continues.
I grab the poker leaning against the fireplace. Slowly, I unlock the door. I close my eyes, count to five, and pull it open as fast as I can.
There’s no one there.
I step out onto the patio and gaze around. There’s no one walking on the street and no one hiding in our bushes. Could it be more hazing welcoming the new girl to the neighborhood?
I wish. But I can’t really believe that.
Headlights turn up into our driveway, and I shield my eyes. My mother’s voice greets me. “I’ve got Hawaiian and a meat lovers. The best of both world’s right? What are you doing out here, anyway?” Mom joins me on the porch carrying two medium-sized pizzas.
I shake my head. “Thought I heard a noise, but I guess it was just the wind. That or I smelled the pizza on its way home.” I smirk and hope my story is enough to convince her everything is fine.
She snickers and pushes me playfully as she steps inside the house. I breathe a sigh of relief. Mom feels better, but I don’t. Not by a long shot. Someone wants to scare me, and they sure are doing a bang-up job of it.
With the movie long over, Mom takes a shower before getting ready for bed. I clean up and on the way to my room, the house phone rings. Its Grandpa Hector again. I don’t feel like answering it but I listen as he leaves a message on the home answering machine.
Yeah, my mom’s always been old fashioned that way.
“Hi hon, again. Look, we have to finish talking about this yet. You shouldn’t have taken Jess to Bay Harbor. You can’t stay there. Call me back. We have to solve this.”
He ends abruptly just as I think of picking up the line. What did Grandpa know? Why was Bay Harbor off limits?
What isn’t my family telling me?
It lights a fire underneath me. I lock myself away in my room and look up the address for the police department in town. It’s not hard to find.
I don’t feel brave enough to break into the police department's evidence locker room. I know I’ll get caught. Just what I need. The girl with Amber Chetwood’s face arrested for stealing her evidence report file. That’s a reputation I just don’t need, but I need that file…
Forget it. For now, I back-burner it.
I look up the Chetwood family and find that May Chetwood still lives in town. I copy the address and want to pay her a visit, but how can I possibly do that? I might scare her to death if she sees me. I don’t want to be responsible for more heartbreak.
I look up the address to see where in town it is. As soon as I type it into Google, a listing for an Institute pops up. It looks like May is a patient at a live-in psychiatric hospital, Serenity Treatment Facility. I take a deep breath to calm the shaking in my hands and wonder just how the scandal of her actions and Amber’s death had destroyed her all those years ago.
Picking up my cell, I send Maxx a text. I need your help to do something tomorrow if it’s no trouble. It has to do with Amber. I might be on to something and some old town secrets.
Her response is quick. I’m in! I was going to go shopping with my mom, but this sounds better.
Chapter Twenty-three
Coffee Shop, Bay Harbor
Jessica: September 10th, 2020
“Okay, this is not better.”
Maxx meets
me at a trendy hipster coffee shop first thing Sunday morning. It’s busy with couples grabbing a quick breakfast before church and college students who need a morning pick-me-up after pulling an all-nighter. We sit at a table by the window littered with brochures and advertisements. I nurse a double honey latte, and it’s the best thing I’ve tasted since moving to town.
No small feat since I’ve been loading up on Chinese food and pizza for dinner almost every night.
Maxx sips a hot tea flavored with vanilla almond milk. Her hair is pulled back on the sides, and she wears ripped blue jeans and combat boots. She shakes her head at me even though I haven’t said anything. Yet.
“I know this is going to be sensitive, but if you’ll just ask Ms. Chetwood if she’ll meet me and explain who I look like. I’d do it myself, but I don’t want to shock her too much.”
She picks up the piece of paper sitting on the table between us. “Yeah, I get it. I just don’t know why you want to talk to her.” Maxx takes a moment to read my facial expression. “You really want to solve Amber’s murder? It’s fun to be an armchair detective, but this is going a bit further than I thought. I didn’t realize we were serious about it.” Maxx rubs her arms as if a chill runs through the air.
“I wasn’t at first, but with the calls I’m getting and the threats, I feel like I have to. I feel like I’m connected to Amber somehow, even if it’s just all in my head.”
“Totally all in your head.” Maxx snorts and looks disgusted. “If someone is threatening you, that seems like a good reason to not look into Amber’s murder. It was almost two decades ago.”
“You don’t have to get involved other than this. I won’t bring it up again if you don’t want me to. Please. You talk to Ms. Chetwood, and I’ll come meet her wherever she wants. I’ll wait here.” I implore her with my wide eyes and innocent smile. Mom says it’s irresistible.
She crosses her arms and glances away. I’m guessing Mom’s right. “You know what this place is, right?” Maxx places the paper down on the table and pushes it across to me.
