The ground rushed up at Emily, and she stumbled. Her phone flew and her palms grated along the blacktop. Agony shot up her nerves and exploded in her brain.
“Emily!” Madison grabbed her arm and hauled her to her feet. She shone her phone’s flashlight in her sister’s eyes, and Emily batted it away. “I forgot about your head injury. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” Emily wheezed, her palms and knees stinging. She closed her eyes against the pain as bile rose in the back of her throat.
“I’ll go ahead. You take it easy.”
“No!” Emily pulled her arm out of Madison’s grip and went after her phone, a small beacon of light on the shoulder of the road. “Shit.” The screen was a spiderweb of cracks under her screen protector. She pressed the button several times. Nothing happened. She couldn’t even turn off the flashlight.
I don’t need this right now.
“We can’t stop.” Emily took off at a slow jog, her head pounding in time to her strides.
“You’re nuts,” Madison muttered, but she didn’t try to stop her.
They ran in silence for several minutes, Emily believing every step would be her last.
“Dad’s pocket watch,” Madison finally said. “You know the quote inside?”
“Yes.” Emily didn’t have the breath to say anything else.
“It’s associated with the KKK.” Madison was silent for three steps. “I think Dad had been a member—or belonged to a similar group.”
Emily processed her words. That meeting long ago . . .
“I think I may have subconsciously known that,” Emily panted, “but ignored it.”
“You knew?”
“Sorta. I can see it in hindsight. I was clueless to a lot of things as a kid. You asked what I picked up in the yard the night Dad died.”
“Yes.”
Emily struggled for breath to speak, the pain in her lungs matching her head. “I found some coinlike things in the grass that night, but they weren’t money. I’d seen them before in one of his drawers.” She stopped and rested her hands on her thighs, gasping for air. “I took them and hid them. We lost everything in the fire, and I thought of them as mine afterward. Something of his that was just for me, and I didn’t want to share. If Mom saw them, I knew she would take them back.”
“I found them in your things a long time ago.”
Emily wasn’t surprised. “I researched them online a few years back. They’re not coins, they’re tokens. A lot of groups make personalized tokens—the Masons or branches of the military. These were from a white supremacist group in Portland, and I didn’t understand why he would have them.”
Madison was silent.
“But I put them away after I learned that,” Emily whispered. “I didn’t know what to think about the coins and Dad. I remembered . . .” Memories flared.
“Remembered what?”
“I think Dad took me to some of those meetings. I didn’t know what they were.”
The wind in the trees was the only sound.
“I think everyone knew but us,” Madison said softly. “It doesn’t matter now. Come on.” She took Emily’s arm again. “We’re almost there.”
The cracks of two gunshots echoed through the forest.
35
Zander’s headlights lit up three vehicles at the park gate, including Madison’s car and a Mercedes that he recognized from Tara’s home.
She is here.
He didn’t know the third car. He called Sheriff Greer.
“Greer.”
“It’s Wells. Can you run a plate for me? I’m on the road.”
The sheriff grunted. “Give me a minute.”
“Has Billy said more?” Zander asked.
“Sticking to the same story. I had two deputies go pick up his brother, who is just fine, by the way, and thinks Billy is full of shit. Okay. Give me the plate.”
Zander rattled off the plate.
“That’s Harlan Trapp’s vehicle. Where are you?”
A million questions burst in Zander’s head.
Did Harlan follow Emily?
Nate Copeland’s dead body filled his vision, quickly followed by Harlan Trapp and the sheriff in the old photo of men.
Who can I trust?
From a distance two shots were fired, and he flinched, his throat going dry. Emily?
“Where are you? Who’s shooting?” the sheriff roared.
Zander made a decision about trust as he grabbed his tactical vest for the second time that day. “I’m on Seabound Road at the gate. It’s locked. Emily and Madison are inside somewhere, and I assume Harlan is too. I don’t know who fired the shots.”
“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Sending deputies now.”
“Tell them I’m heading inside.”
The sheriff paused. “I will.”
Zander glanced at the Mercedes as he fastened his vest.
Why is Tara here?
He bent, stepped between the gate’s bars, and silently ran up the road, listening hard, expecting more gunshots. The wind and the smell of the ocean grew stronger as he covered some distance. He didn’t know exactly where he was going, but he figured he’d know it when he got there.
There were no turnoffs or footpaths leading from the road—that much he could see in the dark. He didn’t use a flashlight, preferring not to draw attention or gunfire toward himself.
The roar of another shot made him drop to the ground, his heart hammering.
A man was yelling, but Zander couldn’t make out the words.
He jumped to his feet and continued his trek.
“She didn’t jump, she shot herself!” Emily gasped as the sound of the two shots faded away.
“Maybe whoever parked the second car at the gate fired the shot—maybe it’s kids fooling around,” Madison said in an uncertain tone. “It could have nothing to do with her.”
That explanation wasn’t good enough for Emily. She broke into a run, and Madison followed.
“You thought I would trust you?”
Emily slammed to a stop as Madison grabbed her arm. There was no mistaking the fury in the male voice up ahead.
“Who is that?” Madison whispered.
“You thought you could lure me to this place and shoot me?” A roar of laughter followed.
Emily knew the laugh and voice but couldn’t connect them with a face.
“I’ve been searching for you for years, you fucking bitch!”
“That’s Harlan Trapp,” Madison whispered, her nails digging into Emily’s arm.
“I don’t understand.” Emily’s brain spun.
“He’s yelling at Tara.”
His words sank in.
Harlan has been looking for Tara for years. Tara was scared of someone hurting her . . .
Pieces snapped together in her mind.
“Could Tara have left because someone threatened her life? The only thing worth hurting someone over is if they witnessed . . .”
Tara running through the woods the night Dad was killed.
“Maybe she saw who killed Dad . . . Could it be Harlan?” Emily’s instincts fought against her conclusion. She’d known Harlan Trapp all her life.
“Come out, come out, come out, little girl!”
He was hunting Tara, his words echoing through the forest. “She must still be alive,” Emily said in hushed words.
“And hiding,” finished Madison. “We should do the same before he spots us.” She turned off her phone’s flashlight, and Emily powered hers down, the screen buttons unusable.
The two of them moved off the narrow road and into the trees. Emily’s eyes finally adjusted, and she could see the hazy shape of Madison’s face.
“You thought you could pull a gun on me? Me? I’m the fucking mayor!”
The women slowly crept through the trees, keeping the road in sight and watching for Harlan or Tara. The road widened and fed into a small parking lot. Emily had visited only two or three times since she nearly slid off the cliff as a c
hild. Each time she’d stayed far from the overlook fence, nausea heavy in her stomach. The big metal swing sets, tetherball poles, and slides from her childhood were still present, the swings swaying with the wind, the chains of the tetherballs clanking against their poles.
Harlan paced at the far end as he yelled, a faint silhouette against the dark sky.
“You’re a whore!”
“I think he’s between us and Tara,” Emily whispered. “Now what?”
“Wait for the police.”
“What if she’s hurt? I don’t even hear sirens yet!” Stress built in Emily’s shoulders.
“Maybe they thought sirens would spook someone who might be considering suicide,” Madison whispered.
“Who the fuck knew two sisters could cause me such problems?”
“Two sisters? Who else? Me?” gasped Emily.
“You were shot at yesterday,” Madison hissed. “I bet he was trying to clean up his mess. First Nate Copeland and then you.”
“But why would he kill Sean and Lindsay?”
“I don’t know, but right now all I care about is that my sisters are on his list. We need to get out of here.”
“I’m not leaving Tara.”
“We can’t help!” Madison said in a low voice.
A faint siren finally sounded. Help was coming.
“That took long enough.” But it didn’t give Emily the relief she needed.
Harlan heard it too and let out a string of profanities. “Your family is the rot in this town! Your father was the worst of all!”
“Look!” A black shape crawled along the ocean side of the parking lot. Emily dropped to her knees to see the person’s form against the dark sky. She yanked Madison down beside her.
Tara.
“She’s dragging. She’s hurt,” she whispered as she watched Tara lower herself flat to the ground and roll under the overlook’s fence at the edge of the park. Harlan continued to pace and shout a dozen yards from where she’d seen Tara vanish. “She went under the fence.”
Madison swallowed audibly. “There are some places to hide safely on the other side.”
“One loose rock and she’s gone.” Emily shuddered, remembering the terror of clinging to the cliffside rocks.
The place where Emily had nearly lost her life.
“If we backtrack a bit and cross the road, we can follow the fence on its other side until we reach Tara,” she told Madison. “He probably won’t see us.”
“No! There’s a reason for that fence. We both know how unstable that ridge can be.”
“But we can get her out. We can crawl back.”
“Wait for the police!”
“But what if she’s hurt?” Tara’s dragging movements hadn’t left Emily’s thoughts. “Minutes could mean the difference between life and death if she needs a tourniquet or something.”
“You’re crazy,” Madison hissed.
“I’m going.”
“Dammit! Fine. I’ll go meet the police,” said Madison. “They should know what they’re walking into. Be careful.”
Emily jogged back through the woods until she couldn’t see the parking lot and then crossed the road to the trees on the other side. She wound through them until she spotted the fence. She estimated it was nearly fifty yards to reach the spot in the fence where her sister had vanished. Her head threatening to split with pain, Emily went under the fence and started to crawl, the surface treacherous with roots and loose rocks. The slope had several deadly steep areas, but if she stuck close to the fence, it was flat enough.
Sweat formed along her spine at the thought of being spotted by Harlan, but he was focused on searching the other side of the park.
Her hair blew around her face, and the poor light along with the crash of the waves far below made her wobble.
Harlan continued to rant. His shouts would get closer and then move away as he changed direction, his voice often hard to hear over the roar of the ocean.
Anxiety and strain fueled his words; the police had to be close. The sirens had stopped, making Emily assume they’d reached the gate. They’ll walk up the road, right? The park hadn’t opened for the spring yet, and she doubted the police had contacted the parks department for a key.
Madison would meet them.
Emily’s level area near the fence suddenly narrowed, and she clung to the bottom rail to keep moving. Terror swamped her, and she pushed away the memory of clinging to rocks and weeds, screaming for her father. She moved on, one knee in front of the other. The ledge widened, and she paused to catch her breath, her heart pounding.
Keep going.
She glanced behind her, distressed at how short a distance she’d come.
Keep going.
She continued to move, feeling as if an hour had passed. Then she saw Tara.
Her sister was on the ocean side of a giant rock, where the land broadened sufficiently. It was the same rock where their parents had posed for the photo. The space between Tara and the drop-off was narrow. In that spot it was less likely Harlan would see her if he came to the fence.
But not a perfect hiding spot.
Her sister lay as close as possible to the rock. She was very still. Emily scooted closer, “Tara,” she whispered.
Tara’s head lifted. “Emily?” Her voice was weak.
As she reached Tara, Emily took her hand. It was wet and sticky. Shocked, Emily nearly dropped it, and the odor reached her nose. Blood.
In the poor light, she saw that Tara’s pants were glossy with blood.
“Where are you hurt?”
“My side.” Tara’s right hand was clamped against it. “I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not,” Emily said. She slipped off her coat, lifted Tara’s hand, and pressed it against the wound. Her sister gasped but replaced her hand to hold it.
“I want you to help Wendy with Bella,” Tara whispered.
“Not now, Tara.” Emily arranged the coat, her throat tightening.
“Wendy can do it, but I want you and Madison in Bella’s life.”
“Cut it out! You’re not going to die.” Emily gritted her teeth, terrified she was lying.
“Harlan threatened to kill all of you unless I left town.”
“I figured,” Emily whispered, her heart cracking in half.
“When I heard Mom died, I thought he was carrying out his promise. I’ve been terrified ever since—looking over my shoulder nonstop. When my husband died, I believed for months that Harlan had caused the accident.”
“Oh, Tara. Why didn’t you go to the police?”
“I couldn’t trust anyone. Harlan told me there were several people involved.”
Who?
“He’ll never stop hunting me,” said Tara. “He met me here because I said I wanted to talk. I brought a gun—I planned to kill him,” she whispered harshly. “I just wanted a life where I wasn’t petrified every day and didn’t worry that he might hurt my daughter.” Tara’s words grew slower and slower. “I chickened out when I had the chance to shoot him first. He shot me, and I shot back.” She laughed almost silently. “Then I dropped the fucking gun but managed to get to the woods. He never planned to talk; he came here to kill me too.”
“Where did you drop the gun?”
“No. You can’t do that!”
“Where did you drop the gun?”
Tara exhaled. “By the swing set. You’ll never make it. He’ll see you.”
“I have to try.”
36
“Zander!”
The female voice came from the trees to his right, and he halted his dash up the road. A light shone in his eyes. He raised a hand to block it. “Madison?”
“Where are the police?” She lowered her light.
“They’re coming. Where’s Emily?”
“She stayed with Tara. We think she was shot—”
“By Harlan?” Zander continued up the road, Madison following.
“Yes! How did you know?”
“His car is at
the gate. I think he’s the one who fired at Emily yesterday.”
“He’s going to kill Tara if someone doesn’t stop him.”
“How much farther is it?”
“The parking lot is just around the next bend. He was at the far end, and Emily was headed to find Tara on the ocean side of the fence.”
“Where?”
“Beyond the fence there is a big drop-off, but there’s a little room in some spots. People aren’t supposed to cross the fence—the land’s unstable.”
Fuck.
Emily and Tara are on that side of the fence.
“Go down the road. Tell the deputies coming up that he’s armed, and that me and two other women are here.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Stop him.” He took off at a dead run.
“Stick to the woods!” she yelled after him.
Emily crawled around the swing set, wishing Tara had been more specific about where she dropped the gun. Harlan was now searching in the woods at the far end of the parking lot, cursing and yelling for Tara. Emily frantically brushed her hands over the wood chips, feeling very exposed and silently pleading for the gun to appear. Tara’s hiding place wasn’t too bad, but if he checked along the fence, he’d probably spot her.
Emily would defend her sister until the police arrived. And to do that she needed the gun. Dust from the decomposing wood chips blew in her eyes, and they watered, making her limited vision worse. She crawled back to a place she’d already searched, convinced she’d missed the weapon. Hurriedly, she checked again. No gun.
The pain in her head throbbed. What if Harlan picked it up?
She could be wasting her time.
A figure moved out of the woods, and she dropped to her stomach, holding her breath, her gaze glued to the shape. Harlan strode determinedly to the fence.
He gave up on the woods.
Panic made her stomach churn.
The Last Sister Page 26
