“I know that. I do.” Despite his assertion, I detected a layer of doubt beneath Larry’s words that gave me hope. “It’s just I guess I still don’t get why you thought slipping the spiked soda into the cockpit of his plane would work. What if he’d left it there? Or didn’t drink it for weeks? Or, well, decided to drink it before takeoff, like he obviously did?”
“I don’t know!” Audrey roared with all the ferocity of a woman who was incensed at someone questioning her lies. She took a few panting breaths, and when she spoke again, all traces of anger were gone, replaced by a connivingly girlish tone. “I wasn’t thinking, okay? I was panicked. You know how Doug was about bloodlines and genealogy. If he’d found out Curtis wasn’t really his nephew, he’d have been cut out of the will on the spot and probably would've fired him from Strong Corp., too. Is that the kind of life you’d want for your son?”
Had Audrey just admitted that Curtis was Larry’s son? That meant my observation about the resemblance had been just as shrewd as I’d thought. Despite the immediate jeopardy I was in, my lips twitched upward in triumph. As Sheriff Grady had so annoyingly pointed out earlier, up until that moment, I’d only had the means and opportunity for Audrey to kill Douglas. But now I had the motive, too. There was no doubt in my mind Audrey had known when she put the spiked bottle of soda in Doug’s cockpit that he’d drink it right then and there and would be sound asleep halfway across the bay. Killing him was the easiest way out, just like killing me would be.
Oh, Fudgsicles, I thought, they’re actually going to kill me! My muscles tightened, ready to spring into action. I’d been so intent on catching Audrey’s confession that I’d momentarily forgotten the peril I was in. As silently as possible, so that neither Larry nor Audrey would realize I was awake, I began to work my hands free of the plastic tie that bound me to the pole. I needed to get out of that garage, and fast.
“I don’t know,” Larry said, after a pause that lasted just long enough that I suspected his own doubts about Audrey’s story were mounting. “Seems like you coulda asked me what I wanted for our son thirty-two years ago, when it might’ve mattered. I woulda provided for you if I’d known, but all you wanted was to marry that rich boyfriend of yours.”
“You don’t really think that’s true, do you, sweetheart? If only I’d realized back then that Jeremy couldn’t have children, I would’ve known you were his father, and it all would’ve been different. You know that, right?”
The desperation behind Audrey’s words pushed her volume louder, and I used the opportunity to twist my body, tugging at my restraints unnoticed. As I shifted, the slightest flash of red and blue lights, like from a police car, caught my eye through a mostly dark window on the far side of the garage. My heart fluttered with sudden hope. I held my breath, waiting for Audrey or Larry to see it, too, but it was out of the line of sight from where they stood, and they continued their heated conversation unaware.
“Even back then, you knew it was possible.” Larry’s tone was sharp and bitter, though I doubted Audrey’s feelings were hurt by it. A woman who could carry out one murder and plot another while her intended victim was tied up nearby probably had pretty thick skin. Larry, on the other hand, was becoming more worked up with each passing moment. “Maybe not for certain, but you knew he wasn’t the only one you’d been with. Still, you went ahead and married the guy you wanted Curtis’s father to be, the one from the rich summer family, the one who went to college and could afford to buy you fancy dinners and cars.”
All of a sudden, the staccato rap of knuckles against a steel door echoed through the garage. It was enough to snap me back to my senses and provide the incentive I needed to give my right arm a good yank. The plastic band on my wrist snapped. I was free but still sat frozen in place on the floor, uncertain what to do next.
“Larry?” a man’s voice called from outside. “It’s Joe Grady. You in there?”
“Don’t answer!” Audrey hissed.
“He’ll come in guns blazin’ if I don’t,” Larry spat back.
Wait, guns? I jumped to my feet and scrambled toward the tiny sliver of light on the floor that marked the location of the back door. As delighted as I was that law enforcement had shown up, my confidence in the local sheriff’s department wasn’t strong enough to remain on the floor like a sitting duck.
“She’s getting away!” Audrey screeched.
“Is somebody in there?” the sheriff bellowed.
A deafening bang shook the walls of the building. I tumbled against the solid surface of the wall, feeling around frantically for the doorknob. My eyes squeezed shut against the terrible pain that radiated from the back of my skull. Another boom followed, and I couldn’t tell if it was the sound of the door crashing open or a gun going off. I didn’t care. All I knew was I had to get outside where I would be safe.
As if by a miracle, my hand brushed against the cold metal surface of the knob. I wrenched the door open and started to run even though every inch of me cried out in agony, and I had to keep my eyes closed so I didn’t pass out from dizziness. The air was filled with angry shouting coming from inside the garage. A thundering crack rang out, and there was no doubt this time that it was caused by a firearm being discharged. I willed my feet to move. I went as fast as I could, running blindly until I thought my lungs would burst. Then I plowed right into a firm, warm wall.
“My God, Tamsyn, are you all right?”
I gulped in air, unable to answer. My body trembled. Though this was at least the third time I’d nearly tackled him to the ground since arriving in Summerhaven, the sound of Noah’s voice didn’t fill me with soul-crushing embarrassment. Instead, I was flooded with the sweet relief of knowing I wasn’t alone. If Noah was here, there was a chance I was going to make it out alive.
“Audrey,” I finally managed to squeak out. “Audrey and Larry…”
“It’s going to be okay,” he soothed, resting his broad hands on my shoulders. “What happened? Tell me everything.”
“There’s no time. They’re coming after me.” The edges of my vision darkened, and for a moment, I thought I was going to faint. I turned my head, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw a dark, bird-like shape in a grouping of trees at the edge of the property.
Noah pulled me nearer, the heat that radiated from his body helping to thaw my chilled bones. “Sheriff Grady and his deputy have it under control. They burst in on them just as you came running out. They’re not coming after you anymore.”
I relaxed my head against his shoulder, my body going limp as an uncontrollable laugh burst from my mouth. “You know, we’ve really got to stop running into each other like this.” Whether out of pity for my recent ordeal or because he’d actually started to find me a tiny bit amusing, Noah laughed at my dumb joke. Then he wrapped his arms tightly around me as I started to shake from head to toe. It was several minutes before I could speak. “Noah, it was Audrey. Audrey killed your uncle, and Larry helped her.”
“I know.”
“But how? And why did the sheriff…?” My voice trailed away, my brain too tired to continue. I was steady enough now to stand unsupported, but Noah kept one arm around my shoulder, and I was grateful for the warmth.
“I was heading home from the clinic, and I saw your car pulled off at a strange angle on the side of the road. Considering what I’d found out from that DNA test you dug up, I was worried, so I called Joe. Turns out he’d had a little talk with Sheila about her sister’s romantic history; he shared my concerns enough to come out and take a look.”
“You ran a test on the DNA kit? Then you know Curtis isn’t your cousin. I heard Audrey and Larry talking about it as they plotted how best to kill me and dispose of my body.”
“They did what?” Noah’s eyes went wide.
“It’s a long story. The important part is that I know Larry Sloane is Curtis’s father. I heard Audrey say so herself.”
“That’s the interesting thing,” Noah replied. “The DNA test was conclusive. Curtis i
s definitely my cousin.”
“What? But that kit was the whole reason she decided to kill Doug.” I stared at Noah, my mouth hanging open as I tried to process this news. “Audrey was certain Larry was the father, and since blood was thicker than water with your uncle, if he found out Curtis wasn’t really a Strong, he’d cut him out of the will for good.”
“I think she underestimated my uncle,” he said, his jaw clenched.
“That means Audrey was wrong about her husband being unable to have children?”
“No, but she’d forgotten there was another possibility for who Curtis’s father could be.”
“Who was it?”
“The DNA test showed a ninety-nine point nine eight percent paternity match for Douglas Strong.”
I gasped. “You mean your uncle Doug was Curtis’s father? But how? I thought you said they’d never been romantically involved.”
“They weren’t, but Audrey did a lot of partying that summer. They both did. It’s probably why my uncle was always on her case if she so much as started to drink, because he knew how she got. Very…affectionate, for one thing.”
I nodded in understanding. “You mean, the two of them…”
“I don’t even know if they knew it. They both were probably too drunk to remember the encounter, but when a young Sheila stumbled in on her older sister and Doug in the guest bedroom…let’s just say her memory of the event is crystal clear.”
“Wow.” I shook my head slowly as this revelation sank in. “I don’t get it, though. As soon as I saw the profile photo of Larry on his website, I saw the resemblance immediately, even before I heard Audrey confess. Clearly she’d seen it, too, and I’m sure that’s why she assumed Larry was the father.”
“It turns out the Sloanes and the Strongs are related. I saw it when I accessed my uncle’s genealogy files. Third cousins. He found the connection several years back.”
“Really? But what about all those rumors of your uncle cheating Minnie Sloane out of a fair price for her house by making up a chemical spill?”
“Oh, that contaminated soil was very real. Curtis has the documentation from the cleanup. It would have cost Minnie a fortune, but by then Uncle Doug had found the family connection, and, well, Audrey was right about one thing. Blood was definitely thicker than water with him.”
“Did Larry know?”
“About the contamination being real, yes. But the family connection, I’m not really sure. None of us knew.” Noah shrugged. “Look, my uncle wasn’t perfect. He wouldn’t let a relative, even a distant one, go broke, but finding out we were related to a local lobstering family didn’t exactly fit in with his being descended from the great and powerful Davenports narrative. It’s not the type of thing he was likely to share.”
The sound of a booming voice coming over a police radio shattered the stillness of the evening, and Noah and I watched as the sheriff and his deputy led Audrey and Larry from the garage in handcuffs toward the police cruiser that waited at the edge of the road. As the car pulled away, lights flashing, a rustling in the trees drew my attention. With one loud caw, a massive black raven emerged, spread its wings, and took flight. Douglas Strong’s spirit was at peace.
Chapter Twenty-One
It was the night of the new moon, the last day of July, and the start of the ancient feast of Lughnasadh, which marks the traditional beginning of the harvest season. From my arrival on the island at the summer solstice, one-eighth of the witch’s year had passed. Though the summer was only half gone, there was a briskness to the air as salty breezes swept across the island and continued out to sea. It had been nearly a week since the incident at the garage, and my life had at last settled into a normal routine at Pinecroft Inn, or at least as normal as life can ever be when you’re a bona fide witch.
With Aunt Gwen’s help, I was learning the basics of running a bed and breakfast, and I’d finally mastered a perfect blueberry pie, both filling and crust. I’d even handled my magical wooden spoon several times without anything blowing up. Though I hadn’t yet been brave enough to raise the issue with her that I wasn’t, in fact, a kitchen witch as she’d presumed, but something else entirely, and should be studying other branches of magic instead, I was nevertheless pleased with the progress I’d made. After so much upheaval, it felt strange to feel at ease.
I had just sprawled out on my grandmother’s quilt, closing my eyes for a moment to enjoy the gentle chirp of crickets that came through my open window, along with the ever-present scent of wild rose. There was no sign of Gus this evening. Hunting was especially tricky during the new moon, and from what I’d come to know of him, I suspected he would be prowling through the woods most of the night, keen on the added challenge posed by the dark. He was that kind of cat.
Eyes still closed, I stretched my arm toward the nightstand and rummaged around until my hand closed in on a book, but when I opened my eyes, I frowned. The volume I’d grasped wasn’t the best-selling beach read I’d been hoping for, but the history of Pinecroft Cove I’d checked out nearly two weeks before. As I opened the book, my stomach tightened—not at the prospect of an overdue fine for keeping the book longer than a week, which I was fairly certain Auntie Sue would waive, but at the sight of a folded slip of paper that slipped from the middle of the book and fluttered to my lap. Unfolding it, I saw it was a photocopy of a newspaper article from fifteen summers before, with the headline reading: Local Woman Lost at Sea.
Tears pricked the corners of my eyes. No matter how much time had passed, a part of me would never give up the belief that it had all been a dream, that my mother—excellent sailor that she was—had gone out that day and returned just fine in the night. Somehow, my time at Pinecroft Cove had served both to impress her absence on me in a hundred different ways each day, and also to make that dream of her return more real to me than I’d allowed it to be in years. I stared at the headline, my vision blurred, until a knock at my bedroom door snapped me back to the present.
“Tamsyn, the others are all here,” Aunt Gwen told me as I opened the door. “Are you coming down?”
“In a minute,” I said, resisting the urge to sniffle loudly and confirm the crying my pink eyes must certainly have hinted at. Without commenting on my appearance, Aunt Gwen held out a shimmering gold scrap of fabric. “What’s this?”
“The dress you brought over to Sybil’s shop for her to look at. She brought it back this evening. Do hurry down. The new-moon celebration starts promptly at sunset.”
“I’ll be right there.” I took the dress and glanced at the clock. It was nearly eight, and I’d been informed at least half a dozen times that day that sundown was at 8:01. I draped the dress over the chair in the corner. As I did so, a sparkle of purple caught my eye from an object that was tucked into the corner mostly out of sight. I bent down and retrieved the crystal I’d tossed from my hands when I’d been startled by the raven. I watched for a moment as it swung back and forth in my hands. Then I set it carefully on top of the dress and headed down the stairs.
“Tamsyn!” my aunt bellowed from the first floor, just as my foot hit the landing halfway down the final staircase.
“I told you I was coming!” I’ll admit my tone was less respectful than it should have been, but she had kept reminding me about the time. Only this time, she hadn’t been nagging. When I made it to the bottom step, I saw Noah Caldwell standing in the open doorway.
“You have a visitor, dear,” my aunt said blandly before skirting around him to join the rest of the witches on the front lawn. “I’ve given him some lemonade while he waited.”
“Hi, Noah. How’s you’re…? How are you?” I’d nearly asked how his family was. Talk about putting my foot in my mouth. Did I expect him to start with how his aunt was going to prison for murder, or maybe tell me all about the investigation into his cousin’s possibly criminal handling of the Strong Corp. finances? Rumors had been zinging around the island that Curtis was cooperating with investigators and likely would avoid jail time but
had decided to leave Summerhaven for good. Considering what he’d gone through, I couldn’t really blame him. Bad memories could be as haunting as actual ghosts.
“I’m hanging in there. I’ll be spending the next few weeks closing up Cliffside since it won’t be occupied for a while. I’m sorry, am I interrupting?” Noah asked with a glance outside. “It looks like you’re having a party.”
“No, just an informal gathering,” I said, deciding not to mention that we would be casting a circle and setting intentions for the coming month to celebrate the rebirth of the moon and the start of the harvest season in precisely eight minutes, if my watch was correct. Considering his own family troubles, that really wasn’t a detail about my life he needed to know. “What brings you around?”
He took a sip from the glass tumbler he held in his hand. “I was on my way home, and I thought I’d stop in and ask—”
“About my head?” I completed, raising a hand to the bruised spot on the back of my head. “No dizziness, ringing of the ears, or nausea. I think the danger has passed.”
“Actually, there was something else.” Noah scuffed one loafer-clad foot against the threshold.
I sighed. “Headaches, I know. I didn’t mention them at first because I do still have a little bit of—”
“No, Tamsyn, I meant I didn’t stop by to ask you about your symptoms. It’s not a professional call.”
“It’s not? Then why are you here?” My mind had gone blank, unable for the life of me to puzzle out why he’d bothered to stop by if not to check on my head. Only when I saw the expression of crushing defeat flit across his face did it occur to me that he might have had a social purpose in mind. It was at this point that I wondered exactly how much damage that blow to my head had really caused. “I’m sorry. What I meant to say was how nice to see you.”
Spirits, Pies, and Alibis Page 20
