by Jill Cooper
Jackson Sinclair is staring at some paintings on the wall, his hands shoved in his pockets as I approach. I feel weird knowing he’s most likely my biological father. He turns slightly and catches me in his peripheral, but he doesn’t say anything. He draws his eyes along a bookshelf lined with leather-bound books. “I’m pretty sure they’re all book props and not actual books.”
I give a nervous laugh. “Too bad. It’d give us something to do.”
“Bored, huh?” He smiles. “Yeah, me, too.”
“Nervous. Maxx was my friend.”
“I’m sorry about that. I heard you discovered her body. A tragic thing.”
“Life here seems to fit that motif. There’s plenty of heartbreak to go around.”
His eyes crinkle at the corner. “There sure is, but there are moments that bring us happiness. My kids bring me great joy, even if they aren’t always aware of it.”
“I’m sure they’d love to hear it.” God knows, I sure would.
He nods, his eyes cast away and back to mine. “I’m sorry, Ms. Chase, but if you’ll excuse me, I need to find my wife. The little one’s bedtime is approaching, and we always try to read to them.”
“All right.” It’s now or never. I lick my lips as he walks away. “Did you know on homecoming night that Amber was going to disappear?”
Jackson freezes in place. “That’s an inappropriate question.”
“Humor me. I look just like her, and I need to know. How much did you know about her plan?”
He puts his hands into his pockets and goes rigid. I’ve touched on a billion nerves. “She was killed. She didn’t disappear. There was no plan.”
“That’s where you’re wrong. She disappeared and spent ten months in Acorn Creek under the care of Cathy Summers. The autopsy report proves it. She didn’t die until she arrived back in town. To meet you, I suspect.”
Jackson’s eyes grow wide sharply, and his mouth frowns. “You…You don’t know what you’re talking about. I saw Amber the night of homecoming. We planned to meet the next day. She kissed me. Then she left. Her car crashed into the sea. She was never seen again.” He says it on autopilot, and I assume his story has never changed. “I really don’t want to talk about this with you. Your face… I know you’re just a kid, a friend of Winnie’s, but my pain is not yours to delight in.”
“I don’t delight in any of this. In fact, I dread it.” I pull the letter out of my pocket and hand it to him.
He unfolds it slowly. I hold my breath as he reads it. His eyes tick back and forth over the words, and his face goes pale. Then it goes green. His jaw clenches, and he holds the letter delicately. “Where did you find this?” he hisses.
“Hidden in your house behind your engagement portrait. If you never received this letter, someone in your family did, and they killed Amber when she came to meet you. Then, they paid the police and the mayor to keep it quiet.”
Jackson reads the letter over and over again. His face is a cacophony of emotions ranging from heartbreak to bliss, back to despair, and then joy. I wonder what he’s thinking of right then.
“Whoever killed Maxx broke into my house and stole the evidence I collected to find Amber’s killer. They have the letters Amber had been writing to Jenny Marvel.”
His eyebrows raise, and his voice is a ghost of a whisper. “Jenny? Jenny knew?”
I nod. “She was keeping Amber’s secret until she was ready to come back. I haven’t figured out how Gregory is involved yet, but I believe I’ll discover it sooner or later. If I keep digging.”
“Why?” Jackson demands. “Why do you care? This is my life you’re playing with.”
“Because I think… I think I’m her daughter. Which, if I’m correct, would make me your daughter, too.”
Jackson stumbles back a step. “What you’re saying… Amber left. She left because she was… It can’t be true.”
“I think it is. I think she was so scared of your mother, of this town, she feared for her life and mine. So, she kept her secret and got her birth mother to help her keep it.”
Jackson’s jaw clenches. “No one knew?”
“Jenny knew.” I lick my lips and take a deep breath. Here went nothing. “Carolyn knew, too.”
His face darkens quickly, and it contorts into the scariest face I’ve ever seen. “No. You’re wrong about that.”
“That’s not how Jenny tells the story. They both helped Amber disappear after homecoming. They faked a disappearance and got Amber to the bus station so she could quietly sneak off to Acorn Creek. All you need to do is ask Jenny. She’ll tell you what she told me.”
I worry I might be wrong to trust him as he grits his teeth. He looks angry enough to commit murder. “She knew the entire time,” he whispers more to himself than to me.
“Mr. Sinclair—”
He holds up a finger. “It makes sense. The rush to the altar. The rush to get pregnant. The way my mother pushed me to wed her so fast. All the while, I had a…” He hands the letter back to me and folds my fingers around it. “Keep this safe. I’ll get us help from the FBI. We’ll blow the lid off of this town once and for all.”
“I called them. They should already be on their way.”
He looks relieved. “Good. I’m off to find my wife. If you’ll excuse me…”
“What are you going to do?” I don’t want him to kill her. I can’t let him commit a crime. Carolyn, if guilty, needs to answer for her crimes and what she stole from all of us.
“Nothing to concern yourself with, Jess. A Sinclair settles his own scores. But if it’s true, if you are my daughter, I’ll be there for you, and I will provide for you. Your life’s about to change.” He strokes my chin and stares into my eyes. For the first time since I’ve known him, I feel like he really sees me, and not Amber Chetwood.
“You have her eyes. Her everything.” Jackson kisses my forehead, and he races up the stairs. I’ve lit a fire under him I fear he hasn’t felt in a long time. Part of me wishes I hadn’t talked to him, but I had to. I had to see the look on his face.
Shock and disbelief. He hadn’t known like I suspected he did. He hadn’t suspected anything. Instead, he settled for life being married to Carolyn, none the wiser. Miserable, but getting joy from his kids.
I rush up the stairs where Winnie is waiting for me. “What happened? I tried to talk to Dad, but he barely paid me any attention. He just rushed out of here.”
“I showed him my evidence. I thought maybe he’s the one who hurt Amber, but I was wrong.”
Winnie’s face morphs with anger. “You thought what? What evidence? Chase, what are you up to? Whatever it is, if you are going to hurt my family—”
I gaze around, looking for signs of any of the Sinclairs. I come up empty and it makes me nervous. “I’ll find the truth no matter what, Winnie. And for the record, it’s possible your family is my family, too.”
Her jaw goes slack. “What?”
“I wish we had time to talk this out, but we don’t.” Impatiently, I sigh. “Have you seen your mom?”
Winnie shakes her head. “She left with my grandfather.”
My eyes narrow. “Your grandfather? I thought he was dead.”
Winnie rolls her eyes. “My other grandfather. My mom’s dad. You’ve met him.”
“I have?” I scrunch up my nose.
“Yes, it’s Mr. Davis at school.”
My jaw goes slack. “Your mother—the headmaster is your grandfather.”
“Why is that so shocking?” Winnie tilts her head to the side.
How could no one tell me this before? This changes everything. Suddenly it all makes sense. Why Gregory worked so hard to cover up the crime. Why Penelope worked so closely with Gregory. They were burying a dark secret they both had stock in.
Two families. One murderer.
I remember the red paper I pulled out from underneath Maxx’s hand and pull it from my pocket.
We’ll be waiting for you at the Chetwood Estate. Come alone. It’s time
to bury this, once and for all.
Winnie’s eyes widen as she reads it. “Shit, how stupid do they think you are?” Her eyes widen after she reads my face. “Jess, tell me you’re joking.”
“I don’t have a choice. I need to see this through.” I stuff the paper back into my pocket.
“I don’t want you to end up dead. Call the police and send them.”
“That’s your job. Give me a twenty-minute head start and call in the calvary. Tell my parents but wait. Not yet.”
Winnie sighs. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
She’s not the only one.
“Let me give you a ride,” Cameron says from behind me. “You need help, Jessi. Let me be that for you.”
Winnie shakes her head back and forth and grits her teeth, but I smile. “Thank you. Let’s go.”
“I’ll follow behind,” Winnie says, but I stop her.
“Call the police. Let them know what I’m doing. See if you can make them listen.”
On the way out, my parents call over, but I keep my head down. Cameron grabs my hand, and we sprint for the door.
It’s now or never. Time for my date with destiny.
Chapter Forty-Five
The Chetwood Estate is as creepy as I remember. Cameron pulls the car up the road as close as he can to the house before the rough landscape makes it impossible. Then we walk up to the manor where lights on the bottom floor appear to be on. I shudder at the implications. This place hasn’t had electricity in years, and I wonder what’s happened.
I hold onto Cameron’s arm as we climb the hill. “You think this is really necessary?” He asks.
“As necessary as it gets. All the answers I’m looking for are behind these doors.” We walk the path that curves around the side of the house under the carport. Now I can imagine what it was like twenty years ago with Amber running outside to meet Jackson, but instead meeting her birth mom. What it was like for her to move out and later move back in when her parents were released on bail.
How Amber must’ve felt as she discovered she was pregnant while the town ostracized her as damaged goods. How alone she must’ve felt as she decided to run away.
I wish I could’ve helped her.
Cameron tries the door, but this time, it won’t budge. “Locked. Someone must want us to find another way in.”
“Let’s keep going around the back.”
I lead the way as the pavement changes to large patio blocks that are much like the rest of the house. Broken and shattered, but they lead us to a back door that was once glass but is now boarded up with planks of wood. I reach around and twist the knob until it turns. The door is wedged shut, but I drag it open.
We enter through an old drawing-room. There’s still a piano against the wall, and everything else is covered in thick, white sheets. On the wall is a six-foot painting of a family. May sits in an armchair with a smiling baby girl on her lap. Rudolph stands behind her and has a mustache that covers up his top lip. His dark eyes seem to go right through me. As I move through the room, lightning crashes outside, and Cameron appears at my side.
“Who are we looking for?” He asks as we creep toward the door, leading into the rest of the house.
I wish I knew. The lights flicker on the walls, and I fear Amber might be there. Not only that, but she’s angry. She’s with me, but what kind of help can she really provide me?
“I don’t know. I—” I step through into the corridor, but the door behind me slams before Cameron is able to follow me through. I gasp and try to get the door open, but the knob won’t spin.
“Cameron!” I hiss and knock on the door.
He rattles the door. “It won’t budge, Jess. I’m going to go back out and look for another way in.”
I shudder with a deep breath. “Be careful.” I turn and lean my back against the wall, digging my phone out. It turns on but turns off right away. The battery is draining fast. I put it back on into camera mode by mistake. As I lift the phone, the view screen fills with the walls. The curtains billow, and a shadow races down the corridor.
Swallowing hard, I follow. The archway opens up into a dining room. It’s lit up with portable lights set on the old table. There’s yet another portrait of Amber above the fireplace, and I watch as a shadow disappears into the mantel.
I bend down and shine my phone up the chimney. I find an old steel box wedged into the bricks and pull it free. The lid is locked shut. I spin it around and see a keyhole, and I think the old key will fit in the spot perfectly.
I dig it out of my bag and the key slips in. The box clicks, and a moment later, I’m pulling out the last will and testament of May Chetwood. It’s dated sixteen years ago, and she states she leaves all her money, the manor, and land, plus a business in town, to Tessie Summers’ daughter and last family heir.
Last family heir.
That’s me. She’s leaving it all to me.
I didn’t think she knew about me, but she’d had someone discover me. Then she’d been hidden and locked away in a mental institution, keeping her from talking or telling anyone what she knows. She’d been under the control of the very men who covered up Amber’s murder for the city.
Other papers include statements of the abuse she had suffered at the hand of Mr. Davis at Gregory Academy as he was given power of attorney and made sure she was locked up for her remaining days.
“I was hoping you’d have the key. I told myself you would.”
I rise to my feet, and the box clatters to the ground.
“Mr. Davis.”
He smiles at me coolly. “I told you to leave it alone. I told you to leave the dead undisturbed. You proved, same as your mother, that you cannot listen. And now, this is where we are.”
Mr. Davis steps forward, and I back away. I hold up the papers I just found. “These prove Amber lived longer than everyone thinks. They prove she had a child, and it could lead to Carolyn’s downfall.”
His eyebrows rise up, and he sighs. “Cleaning up my daughter’s foolish mess. It’s the only thing I could do after Amber’s death. Carolyn needed that marriage. I needed Penelope’s continued contributions, and when I approached her about my daughter’s indiscretion, we came to an agreement for the good of the children. No one ever expected to see you again. I wasn’t even sure if you were real. We thought you died that night.”
“Oh, I’m real all right. You won’t be able to get rid of me.”
“Perhaps you’re right.”
I turn to see Carolyn stepping out from a set of double-wide doors. I’m trapped now between both of them, and she pulls a gun from her purse and aims it at me. “It’s only fitting we end your meddling here. Amber can watch as we finally put an end to you.”
“You’ve seen her ghost.”
Carolyn nods. “Every month, give or take. She haunts me. Tortures me. When I was pregnant, it was always worse. But I had children for my husband anyway, thinking it would fix things, but it’s been nothing but a sham. My marriage. And my life. Now with you here…” She shrugs and keeps the gun trained on me.
I raise my hands. “You don’t have to do this.” I find myself saying the same stupid stuff they always say in the movies.
“You pieced it together. Great job rank amateur detective. My family owns this town. Don’t you know?” Carolyn pauses as the lights on the tables begin to flicker.
Amber.
The air chills. I exhale, and my breath is visible, practically freezing in mid-air. A shadow creeps along the wall. Mr. Davis’ eyes flicker. “What….”
“I’d put that gun down if I were you,” I hiss. “Mother is very, very cross with you.”
Amber manifests between us. She grows taller between us and rushes Carolyn, an animal-like screech echoing in the air. Her gun goes off, and the bullet travels right through the spectral ghost and hits me in the shoulder.
“Carolyn!” Mr. Davis yells and rushes toward his daughter.
I don’t see the rest of it, but I can hear it. I groan an
d drop backward to the ground. My head bounces off the hardwood floor like a bouncing ball, and I grip my bloody wound. Well, that wasn’t exactly thought-out.
Amber screams over and over. It’s only drowned out by the cries of Carolyn. The walls shake, and the chandeliers rattle. The lights are completely out, and I don’t see the face hovering over me until it’s a breath away from my nose.
Chief Evans grins at me. “Well, well,” he winks at me. “Seems I finally got you right where I want you.”
Chapter Forty-Six: Amber 2004
Princeton Boat Resort.
I never thought I’d be back here, especially so late at night. I drive Cathy’s car up to the gate and use the key card to gain access. I roll the car forward, going past the gate and drive up toward the Sinclair boathouse. There’s a small parking lot hidden behind some bushes, and I pull over, keeping the car from view. I unsnap my seat belt and lean into the backseat.
Mackenzie is sleeping again, her stuffed giraffe beneath her hand. Her fingers curl around its neck, and I stroke her cheek. It causes her to suck again on her pacifier, and I slowly remove my hand. I don’t want to risk waking her. “I’ll come get you soon,” I promise with a whisper. “You’ll be safe here, and soon, you’ll get to meet your daddy.”
Maybe I really am delusional. Maybe Mackenzie really could be Martin’s, but I firmly believe the timeline doesn’t line up. I had to be pregnant already when Martin raped me. It’s the only way I would’ve found out I was pregnant so close to the ‘incident.’
I leave the car. The air is cool outside. I leave the window rolled down just a bit and head over to the Sinclair boathouse.
I unlock the door and slip inside. In the dark, it’s almost impossible to see. I turn my flashlight on to illuminate the rowboats hanging on hooks and the supplies lining the walls. There are a few wire racks being used as storage, but so far, I appear to be alone ght.