by Stella Hart
“Don’t you care if I hurt Annalise?” I asked, raising a brow.
“I do care. But, like I said, I know you won’t actually kill her—or me—as long as you think we have information you need. Like names. So from now on…” He mimed a zipper closing over his lips.
I expected Nate to go over and punch him in the face, but he stayed next to me instead. “We’re about to see just how much you care,” he said.
Greg’s forehead creased. “What do you mean?” he asked. Unease had crept into his voice.
Nate smiled thinly and held up his cell phone. “Mom’s back.”
10
Alexis
Nate and I exited the bunker and stood outside while we came up with a plan to lure Annalise to this part of the estate without her getting suspicious. She wouldn’t be able to run from us—it was two against one—but if she even got a whiff of what we knew before we had her trapped and restrained, she might text or call others from the Golden Circle to come and help her.
After we had a simple yet solid plan mapped out, Nate went back to the mansion to greet Annalise. I stayed behind and covered the bunker hatch with leaves and sticks so that it wouldn’t be obvious that we’d discovered it. Then I lingered in the woods for around ten minutes.
When I was sure enough time had passed, I ran all the way back to the mansion and went through a side door into the kitchen, where Nate was meant to have taken his mother.
“Nate, I need your help with some—” I cut myself off midsentence and feigned surprise as I caught sight of Annalise sipping a coffee at the marble counter. “Oh! Hi, Annalise! I didn’t know you were back already.”
She swept over to me in a cloud of perfume and hugged me. “Hi, darling. How are you?”
“I’m fine. How was China?”
“It was great. I’ll have to show you some photos later.” She stepped back and looked me up and down. “Are you all right? You look very flushed.”
I smiled. She’d just given me the perfect segue material. “I’m fine. I was just out for a walk on the estate. I actually came back to see if Nate would help me catch a dog.”
Annalise lifted a perfectly-plucked brow. “A dog?”
“Yes. I saw it while I was walking near the woods, and I tried to catch it, but it kept getting away. It’s a little dog. A terrier, maybe. It has a collar, so it must be someone’s pet.”
“The poor thing must be lost,” she said with a frown. “I wonder how it got onto the property.”
I shrugged. “It could’ve slipped through a fence somewhere,” I said. “Anyway, I was going to ask Nate to come and help me catch it so we can try to get it home.”
Nate let out a snort. “It’s just a dog. Who cares?”
Annalise fixed him with a horrified stare. “Nate! How could you say that? You know I love dogs!”
“I know. I’m just saying, it’ll be fine. It can find its own way home.”
“I’m not sure about that,” I said, eyes widening with faux concern. “It seemed scared, and it’s cold outside. I’d rather get it home as soon as possible.”
Nate shrugged and pulled out his phone. “Sorry, but you’re on your own. I have a game to watch. Starts in five minutes.”
“Nate!” Annalise glared at him again. “Why are you being so rude to your girlfriend? She needs your help.”
He glanced up at her. “If you care about a stray dog so much, why don’t you go and help her catch it?”
She bristled. “I will,” she said tersely, eyes flashing with annoyance. “Come on, Alexis.”
She marched toward the side door, and I followed her. I glanced over my shoulder a few seconds later to see Nate giving me a thumbs up.
As we headed across the massive lawn outside, Annalise took a deep breath and tilted her face up to the sky.
“God, I’ve missed this fresh air,” she said with a serene smile. She glanced over at me. “Next time you go for a walk, you should take me with you. I can show you some of the secret spots on the estate.”
Oh, I bet you can, I thought, suppressing the urge to roll my eyes. “That’d be nice. What sort of secret spots are there?”
“There’s a beautiful hidden garden with a pond on the northern side. Have you found that yet?”
“No, I’ve been sticking to this side of the property,” I replied. “I really like the woods. They’re nice and peaceful.”
“You said that’s where you spotted the dog, right?”
“Yes, he ran in there when I tried to catch him. I think I remember the spot, so hopefully he’s still hanging around there.”
“What color was he? So I know what we’re looking for.”
“Brown and white. I think it might’ve been a Jack Russell terrier.”
“Oh, how cute. I actually had a Jack Russell when I was young.” A dreamy expression crossed Annalise’s face. “His name was Barney. Such a sweet little thing. He used to bring me a different leaf every day after I got home from school. I think he saw them as gifts.”
“That’s adorable,” I said. “I had a dog when I was a kid too. I’d love to get another one at some point.”
“I would too, but it’s just so hard when they get older. Losing them is so awful,” Annalise said. She paused and let out a deep sigh. “My Barney had bone cancer when he was old, and seeing him deteriorate was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do. I’m not sure I could do that all over again.”
I nodded sympathetically. It was hard to believe that this woman, who was getting all misty-eyed over a childhood pet, was the same person who’d arranged to kill her own husband so that the vile organ trafficking scheme she was involved in would never come to light.
“Hey! Wait up!”
Nate’s voice cut across the lawn, and Annalise and I turned to see him striding toward us with a black rope in one hand. It was the same rope we’d used to tie up Greg two nights ago, before we knocked him out with chloroform and stuffed him in the trunk of the car.
“I saw this outside earlier. One of the maintenance guys must’ve left it behind yesterday,” Nate said when he caught up to us. “I thought you might be able to use it as a leash when you catch the dog.”
“Oh, thanks,” I said, flashing a big fake smile at him. “Just hold onto it for now, and we’ll see what happens.”
We reached the edge of the woods and went in, loudly crashing over dead leaves and pine needles as we headed toward the clearing with the hatch.
“I’m pretty sure the dog ran this way,” I said, forehead creasing as I looked westward. “Oh, yes, I remember seeing that tree with the weird trunk. It was definitely this way.”
We headed into the clearing and stepped past a thick log. The hatch was only a few yards away now.
“Are you sure it came over here?” Annalise asked a moment later, looking around the clearing with furrowed brows.
“I’m sure. I saw it right here.” As I spoke, I kicked all the leaves off the hatch. “Oh, what’s this?”
Annalise blanched and took a few faltering steps backward. Nate’s right arm shot out, capturing her shoulder in his iron grip. “Where are you going?” he asked, tilting his head slightly to one side.
“I… I think we should go back to the house,” she said. “It’s not safe out here.”
“Why?” I asked, brows rising as I stomped one foot on the hatch. “This is just an old bomb shelter, right?”
Nate tightened his grip on his mother’s shoulder. “What’s wrong, Mom? You don’t have anything to hide down there, do you?”
Her cheeks reddened. “No, I… I don’t…”
“Give it up,” Nate said, eyes turning steely. “We know who’s down there, and why.”
Annalise suddenly jammed one of her heels down on Nate’s left foot in an attempt to shock him so she could break out of his grip, but it didn’t faze him in the slightest. He simply snorted with amusement and twisted one of her arms behind her back, making her cry out.
“Let go of me!” she shrieked. �
��I’m your mother! You can’t treat me like this!”
Nate ignored her. “Help me tie her up,” he called over to me. “Get her phone, too.”
When her wrists were tied in triple knots behind her back, we forced her down the steps and into the bunker. She kicked and screamed the whole way, and when we dragged her into the main room and threw her on the hard floor, she started to cry.
“Annalise!” Greg said, eyes widening as he caught sight of her. He got up and limped over to her, wincing with pain as the iron cuff rubbed against his injured ankle.
“They tricked me,” she blubbered, tears streaming over her cheeks as her brother gathered her up in his arms. “They… they…”
She trailed off after that, too overwhelmed with shock and terror to form a coherent sentence.
“Get away from her, Greg,” Nate said, pulling a knife out of his jacket pocket. “It’s time for you to talk.”
“No.” Greg spat at Nate’s feet. “I told you, I’m not saying anything.”
Annalise let out another pitiful wail. “What’s happening?”
“They know about the Golden Circle,” Greg muttered, stroking her head.
Annalise’s chin trembled as she looked up at us. “How… how much do you know?”
“Enough,” Nate replied, eyes narrowing.
“He’s lying. They only know what I told them,” Greg said. “We can’t tell them any names. They’ll kill us as soon as we do.”
Annalise sniffed as a fat tear rolled down her cheek. “Oh, Nate,” she whispered. “Why did you have to do this?”
His upper lip curled with disgust. “Why do you think?”
“You aren’t going to expose us, are you?” she asked in a pitiful murmur, as if the Lockwoods losing their esteemed reputation was the worst possible thing that could happen.
“Of course we are,” I said, folding my arms. “Your scheme cost thousands of innocent lives, and my father was one of them. So was Nate’s father. You’re fucking deranged if you think we’re going to let that slide.”
“Oh, no. No, no, no,” she sobbed. “You can’t. Please, Nate. For your own sake.”
“What do you mean?” Nate asked, eyes narrowing.
Annalise swallowed hard. “The others will kill you if they find out you’re trying to expose them,” she murmured. “I can’t let that happen.”
“You mean they’ll kill me the same way you and Greg killed Dad?” he said in a low voice, crouching next to her. “Tell me something, Mom. Did you ever love him?”
“Of course I did! He was a wonderful man, and he gave me you!” she replied, eyes widening. “I never wanted to hurt him. I swear.”
“But you did. Greg told me every nasty little detail.”
“You don’t understand. He was going to ruin everything. He… he forced my hand.”
Nate rose to his full height and stared down at her, eyes flashing with animosity. “Tell me their names,” he said. “Every other member of the Golden Circle.”
“No. I can’t let you go after them.”
“Tell me their fucking names.”
“Please, Nate. They have eyes and ears everywhere. They’ll find out you two are going after them, and then they’ll kill you!”
“So you won’t tell me anything?”
Annalise shook her head and pursed her lips.
Nate looked at me. I nodded, and we headed over to the far side of the bunker, toward the food storage cupboard.
Nate reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out several rolled-up plastic bags. I took one from him and started filling it with packets and cans.
“What are you doing?” Greg barked.
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “You’ve both made it clear you won’t talk now,” I said. “But we’ll see how talkative you are once you’ve been starved for three days.”
Annalise wriggled on the concrete as fresh tears spilled from her red, puffy eyes. “You can’t do this!”
“Are you going to stop us?” I asked, lips curving into a sardonic smile.
She glared at me before turning her attention back to Nate. “Please, Nate. We can work this out.”
He narrowed his eyes. “No, we can’t.”
With that, we left the bunker with our bags of food and headed up the steps. Annalise’s wails drifted up the passage as we slammed the hatch down and locked it. Nate’s face remained stony and impassive the whole time.
“I know it’s hard,” I said, briefly touching one hand to his forearm. “I mean, she’s still your mother.”
“She stopped being my mother the second I found out what she did to my dad,” he muttered. “Emilie, too.”
A lump suddenly appeared in my throat. I swallowed it and straightened my shoulders. “What next?”
He rubbed his jaw. “Well, those two aren’t going to help us anytime soon,” he said, nodding toward the hatch. “So we should go back to the library and write down everything we know now. See if anything jumps out at us. Greg might’ve accidentally let something important slip.”
We traipsed back to the house in silence.
Once I’d typed out everything Greg told us earlier, I leaned back in my seat and frowned. “I think we should start trying to work out who the twelve families are,” I said. “We already know two of them, if I’m right about the Hollands, so we just need to figure out the other ten.”
“How can we do that without Greg and Mom?” Nate asked, forehead creasing.
I bit my bottom lip as I mulled it over for a moment. “It won’t be easy, but we could write a list of every single rich family on Avalon and go through them one by one,” I finally said. “Every time we eliminate one for not being a viable option, that’ll narrow it down for us a little more.”
“What constitutes a viable option?”
I held up three fingers. “For one, they have to have lived on the island since the 1950s, at least, because that’s when the Golden Circle was formed. They have to have a certain net worth, too. I’d say we can safely cut out any family worth under a hundred million,” I said. “Also, we can easily rule out anyone who made their fortune in the last couple of decades, like all the tech billionaires who moved over here from Seattle. They’re loaded, but there’s no way they’re involved. Their money is too new.”
Nate nodded slowly. “Fair enough. But you know how many rich people live here, right?”
“No shit. It’s Avalon.” I tightened my lips and brought up a Google page. “I’ll start by looking at the Forbes site. While I do that, maybe you can start listing all the families you know.”
We worked tirelessly for hours, sorting through census records and online net worth rankings. By dinnertime, we’d narrowed our list down to 118 family names. All of them had lived on Avalon since the 1950s or earlier, and they all had a very high net worth.
Nate frowned at the list and pointed to four different names. “We can knock these ones off as well,” he said. “I know for a fact that they’re all broke now, so those online ranking sites must be outdated.”
I ran through the names with a black pen. “Anything else jump out at you?”
He was silent for a moment as he scanned the page again. “I can see at least six others that don’t belong,” he said. “They’ve lived here since the island was settled, but they only became rich in the last twenty years.”
“So we’re down to 108 names.” I sat back and let out a sigh. “That’s a start, I guess.”
A look of irritation clouded Nate’s face. “It’s not enough.”
“I know. It’d be nice if they all wore labels, wouldn’t it?” I said with a rueful half-smile.
“Yeah, no shit.”
I sat up straight. “Actually, that gives me an idea,” I said, heart suddenly hammering in my chest. “Do you remember my friend Ruby?”
“Yes.”
“When I first started at Blackthorne, she explained all the different fraternities and sororities to me. She said they have different symbols to represent them. Lik
e yours, for instance, with all the skull motifs, and the Roses with their silver rosette jewelry.”
Nate’s forehead wrinkled. “You think the frats and sororities could be involved in the Golden Circle?”
“No. Not at all. But Ruby also said that the rich families here on Avalon really get it into their kids’ heads that symbols and emblems matter a lot. They show who you are, what you’re worth, and what sort of power you have.”
“That’s true, but I doubt the Golden Circle wear gold circular pins on their jackets, if that’s what you’re getting at.”
“Well, no, obviously they wouldn’t do that. But seeing as symbolism is apparently so important to the old families here, do you think there’s a chance the Golden Circle might’ve developed some sort of secret symbol? Something that linked them all? A signet ring with a certain pattern on it, maybe, or something else along those lines.”
“I don’t know,” Nate said, shaking his head. “If they did, I can’t think of anything that fits. And my mom has definitely never worn a signet ring.”
I looked over at the library entryway. An arrow with a short line cutting through it was inlaid with gold on the marble floor in that area, set in a matching gold shield-shaped frame.
“What about the Lockwood emblem?” I asked, pointing over to it. “What does it mean?”
“My grandpa told me it was some sort of ancient clan symbol that represents strength in battle,” Nate replied. “So it’s too old to be something from the 50s, unless he made that up. But I doubt he did, because it’s in all the family portraits.”
“They could’ve hired an artist to add it to the old portraits later to make it seem legitimate.”
“Yeah, they could’ve, but why would they?” Nate said, brows wrinkling. “Only my family uses that emblem, so there’s no way it’s secretly part of the Golden Circle symbolism.”
My shoulders slumped. “Good point,” I muttered. “There goes that theory.”