by Alexis Bass
We go to the party later in the afternoon.
It’s like the clambake, except the beach is even more crowded, dotted with lawn chairs and towels, as everyone has claimed a spot for watching the fireworks. Instead of paddleboard rentals, the booths sell sparklers. Instead of steamed seafood, it’s hot dogs and burgers and ice cream and pie. We’ve been there for about an hour when Edison announces the Duvals are arriving. George goes with him to greet them at the dock.
Chelsea, Trisha, and I are sitting with our lawn chairs in a circle around Phoebe, all of us ready to catch her if she tries to crawl away, which she’s been wanting to do ever since we got here and she saw the red, white, blue, and silver balloons lining the dock posts and the entrance to Main Street.
Chelsea leans close to me. “Are you mad at Dad?”
There’s no point in lying to her now that she’s noticed the tension between George and me. “Yeah, I am.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Well, okay, but have you at least talked to him about it? If he did something wrong, I’m sure he’ll apologize for it. But he can be pretty clueless sometimes.” She shakes her head and laughs, but it’s a nervous laughter.
“He doesn’t want to talk to me, Chelsea.”
She shakes her head again like she’s sure this isn’t true.
“I know things are great between you and George,” I say, not caring that Trisha can hear me, that Phoebe is pushing against my arms trying to get to a stray beach ball that’s rolling past us, “but that’s … that’s not how it is with George and me. It’s more complicated.”
“But you guys have been getting along so well this summer.”
“That was fake, Chelsea. I wanted a decent vacation, and he didn’t want you and Trisha to know that he wished I wasn’t here.”
“He wanted you here,” she says. “He was glad to spend the summer with you. We all were.”
“Why? So you could feel better about breaking up my family?” Chelsea lets out a gasp. “The truth is he’s lucky you and Trisha were so welcoming to him, even though he was lying and cheating. He’s lucky the two of you could look past that and forgive him. But he’s always hated being tied to my mother and always felt like he was stuck with me. I’ve never been anything more than a burden to him and I’m never going to forgive him for not doing a better job at hiding it.”
Her eyes well with tears, and her mouth drops open, ready to protest. But I don’t want to hear it, her sweet interpretation of George, or what she’ll say to defend him. I know she doesn’t want to confront the truth, that while he was being her hero, he deserted me.
“You don’t understand—” I’m shouting before she can speak and it’s loud enough that Phoebe turns away and crawls into Trisha’s lap. “Everything that’s wrong with me is his fault.” All that I kept from her that day on the Duvals’ dock is spilling out, no one around to stop me. “He brought me with him once, some week he had to work conveniently where you and Trisha lived. He left me all alone in a motel. I didn’t have anyone to talk to except an alcoholic fortune-teller who told me the best thing to do was to prepare myself to leave him. She was right.” I’m omitting the truly horrible things I know about him and what he’s done to get ahead. Maybe they’ll never have to know about the girl who was poisoned and the suspicious timing of him getting a promotion; but they at least need to know what he did to me. I don’t think it was my fault anymore, just like it wasn’t the girl’s fault on the recording. “He was never there for me, Chelsea! And I never understood why—I still don’t.”
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” she’s saying, tears streaking down her cheeks. “I didn’t know—I … I wish he’d been there for both of us. I wish he’d figured out how.”
I get up, ready to storm off, right as George and Edison come back with the Duvals. Edison has his arms crossed. He’s careful not to look at me. Maybe George said something to him when it was only the two of them walking to the dock to get the Duvals; maybe it was obvious George was mad because of how closed off he’s been toward Edison.
Sepp has a faint bruise on the right side of his cheek, near his nose, that I might not have noticed if I didn’t know what happened last night. He is also careful not to look at me.
But Karen and Warren and George don’t take their eyes off me as we make our way to the Duvals’ beach setup, under a canopy, with their own lounge chairs and drink cart. Karen and Warren are watching to make sure I stay away from Sepp. George is watching to make sure I stay away from Edison.
I make it easy on all of them and leave.
“Where are you going?” Trisha calls.
I walk faster, hoping to get lost in the crowd.
Chapter 57
I stroll up Main Street, ducking into the back streets, hoping to see the agents’ SUV. The streets are all empty, as I knew they would be. I walk toward the path to the lighthouse but don’t follow the trail, thinking that will lead me too far away from the beach. I circle back to the party, watching a cluster of boats pull up to the docks to let people off and anchor near the shore.
Kath and Michael Ellis drive up to the dock. Sepp is there, waving to greet them.
I don’t trust any of them.
I don’t trust the Duvals in this crowd where it’s so easy for them to hide right out in the open. I don’t trust the way Sepp is holding Kath’s hand so carefully, the way he always is around her. I don’t trust the way she smiles at him.
I don’t trust the way Oswald has his arm around George. I watch from across the beach as Warren offers him a cigar and Karen lights it for him. Edison holds Phoebe while Trisha and Chelsea make air-hearts with their sparklers.
The party is filling up and getting louder. I walk farther away from the Duvals, to the edge of the beach, by the rocks. Why haven’t the agents approached me? Why haven’t I seen them disguised as waiters or dressed as partygoers, their faces hidden under caps? Haven’t they wondered why the tracker was activated? Maybe they are watching and this time I can’t see them.
My phone buzzes. I have two texts from Chelsea and Trisha, asking where I’ve gone. The sun is going down; it will be time for fireworks shortly.
The latest text is from Edison: Where are you?
And then: Meet me.
Where? I ask as I feel a wash of relief that maybe for now the right thing to do is get him away from the Duvals.
Now, he says. Behind the Dragonfly Inn, in the parking lot.
The Dragonfly Inn is nestled between two restaurants, both starting to clear as people make their way to the beach. I walk against the flow of people around the building to a small but full parking lot, tall slender trees lining the back. When I arrive, his car is there, idling with its brake lights on in the rear entrance of the lot. He’s ready to get out of here? Good. We’ll get in his car and drive and drive and I really will tell him everything so he’ll know just what to say when the agents find us. The fireworks will start right as we leave, distracting everyone so no one will know we’re gone until we are miles away and too far to reach. I am almost there, my arm outstretched reaching for the door handle, when someone yanks on my dress. I fall back, hitting my head hard against the ground. My vision blurs in and out. A hand comes down over my mouth. It’s holding a cloth and it covers my whole face, white static obscuring the gray air, though the pressure is over my nose and mouth. I smell something sweet—but wrong. The hand tightens around my mouth as I try to cough. I kick my legs, which is no use, because there is weight over me like someone is sitting on top of me. I try to scream and I try to move my arms, but those are being pinned back, too. My head grinds against the cement as I try to shake off whoever has hold of me. Everything turns dark.
Chapter 58
I wake up to a headache, a dry throat, and a slow mounting panic as I realize I don’t know where I am. I’m on the floor, lying on cold, damp, hard carpet. The floor bobs up and down, jostles side to side. I let my eyes adjust. I’m on
a boat. But when I look up, I do not see the sky. I see a roof, high above, like we are in a warehouse.
There are voices from the other end of the boat. This boat is bigger than the Duvals’ speedboats but smaller than their yacht. It’s older and beat-up, with faded and torn leather bench seats, rust traveling up the entrance to a covered room with the steering wheel and navigation panel. It smells like mildew and fish. It is long, with a large front deck that stretches past the steering enclosure, according to my view from the floor, where I am lying on the back deck, a much smaller area.
When I try to sit up, there’s a sharp pain in the base of my head. I feel a surge of nausea and have to lie back down. The world goes dark and slowly comes into focus. My skin feels clammy and cold. I can’t see who’s with me on this boat, but I can hear them.
“And look,” Karen says. “Look what I found in her bag.” I hear the rustling of paper.
“How did she get these?” Oswald mutters.
“Why would she have these if she didn’t intend to do something with them?” Karen says. “If she didn’t understand what they were?”
Someone sighs.
“Sepp wouldn’t have let it get this out of hand,” Oswald says. “I understand that the two of you have no faith in him, but he’s done well. He knows what’s at stake. He’d never tell her anything. And he’d know if she was using him for information.”
“I don’t think it’s Sepp we have to worry about,” Karen says. “Did you see Edison’s face tonight when it’d been hours and no one had heard from Maris? He looked the same way when we took Franny to the hospital. Sick with worry.”
“If Sepp was covering for him, it must be bad,” Oswald says.
“I knew it,” Warren says. “I knew one day it would catch up with us and he’d be a liability. Just like his mother.”
It’s quiet for a while and then Oswald speaks. “Have you checked on the girl? She’s here?”
“I looked in on her ten minutes ago. Still out. She inhaled enough that she won’t be regaining consciousness. And if she does wake up, she won’t be awake for long.”
Hearing this makes me take a deep breath, just to make sure I can. I start to wheeze and bury my mouth in the crook of my elbow to muffle the sound. I blink and blink and blink. I am awake—sore and pulsing with pain and dizzy and disoriented, but awake.
“Tonight, after we’re done, we’ll take her to the quarry. We’ll get rid of her,” Warren says.
My mouth drops open. The realization takes the wind out of me, makes me cough again. The day Oswald discovered Edison hanging around the quarry. Not because he liked destruction. Because he saw destruction. And there was a choice. They could kill a thirteen-year-old boy, throw his body in the rock crusher, make him disappear forever—doing exactly what he saw them doing when he wandered into the quarry that day. Or they could make him a part of it. They spared him, and Edison knows it; that’s what he was talking about that night at the half-built house.
“And what about Edison?” Karen asks. “He’s lied to us. Sepp even went as far as to lie for him. And now the girl shows up with the bloodwork from the contaminated IV with Dr. Alice down on record.”
After a moment, Warren says, “Father?”
Karen speaks up instead. “They’ll say the two of them ran off together. It won’t be hard to believe. They’ll be searching credit card statements and airline and hotel reservations before they start looking for bodies. And of course, that’s never really been a problem for us.”
My stomach convulses and I don’t know if it’s from the tamoxide she must’ve had me inhale to knock me out and bring me here, or from the reminder of what the Duvals do—what Karen wants to do to Edison and me.
“Okay,” Oswald says, his voice rough. “Tonight?”
“We have what we need here to get it done,” Warren says.
Oswald says, “You be the one to tell Sepp. After it’s finished.”
“Sepp will understand,” Karen says. “He knows we do anything to protect family.”
Oswald clears his throat; when he speaks, he sounds aggravated. “I hope you’re right.”
I roll back and close my eyes, waiting for the nausea to pass. The tracker digs into my side. It is still there. The agents could still find me; maybe now that it’s late, and they’ll see I’m no longer at Cross Cove, and they’ll be on their way. They could be here to save me anytime. They’ll arrest the Duvals before the Duvals have a chance to get to Edison. And if they take care of me first? Then the agents will be able to follow my body, from where it was seen at Cross Cove to the Duvals’ quarry, where it disappears forever. And then they’ll know the truth about all those missing people.
The voices of the Duvals are far away now. With every breath my chest has started to burn. But in the distance, getting closer, I hear the familiar sound of the speedboat.
Chapter 59
I listen to the speedboat slow down and then stop. I hear the sound of footsteps on the dock, moving away from me. I attempt to call out, but my voice is weak and they are gone too fast. Edison is apologizing to Oswald and Warren; Sepp is firm when he says, “It’ll be okay. It’s okay. It’s fine.”
But Oswald and Warren don’t say anything.
“Where are they?” Sepp says. “It’s five minutes past the time they said they’d be here.”
My mind races. There’s no way out of this. If I try to get Edison’s attention and warn him, and succeed, the rest of them are sure to notice and it might make things worse for us—might make things happen faster. I need more time to think, to figure something out. Karen said that it’s too late for me, but it doesn’t have to be for Edison.
Their voices get farther away, though I can still hear them.
“Here they come,” Warren says.
“I’ll get the money?” Edison says.
“Not yet,” Oswald says.
I hear a mechanical sound, like a giant garage door lifting then shutting. The sound of a car driving up. Car doors opening and closing.
I hold my breath. I wait to hear Stevens, or maybe someone from Ellis Exports, like Kath or Michael, or someone whose voice I wouldn’t recognize, who I’d guess would be their father.
“Sorry we’re late.” This voice is familiar, but I still can’t place it.
The next voice I hear is unmistakable.
“Do you have it?” Hall.
There’s a small stretch of silence. I can hear the rasping of my own breath, growing rapid now that I know the agents are here.
“Not so fast,” Oswald says. “Is it done?”
“The search warrant has been issued to Ellis’s East Port. Officers are on-site,” Hall says. “They’ll find what they’re looking for, I presume?”
“Yes,” Oswald says. “That’s been taken care of.”
“What about Katherine Ellis?” Sepp asks.
It’s quiet again and Warren says, “Well?”
“She’s in holding,” Hall says, clearing his throat. “We have one more matter to settle first.”
“What are you talking about?” Sepp says. “We’ve done our part entirely. You’ve got your money, we got the shipment information and led you right to the tamoxide, delivered Katherine Ellis on a silver fucking platter—all you have to do is take the damn money and destroy the recording.”
“If there’s someone else here, you need to have them come out. The deal was everything out in the open, right?” Ryan says loudly.
“Actually,” Sepp says, “the deal was we’d give you Ellis, you’d take the money and stay out of our affairs.” His voice is angry. “There’s no one else fucking here except for the five of us and you two. Look around—this is it.”
“Okay, okay, take it easy,” Hall says.
“Maris Brown,” Ryan says. “Where is she?”
“Maris Brown?” Oswald says.
“She’s been missing since this evening,” Edison says.
Ryan says, “We’re going to need to take her back with us.”
/> “What do you mean back?” Sepp says.
Oswald laughs, a loud, bold sound that echoes. “I’m afraid there has been quite the misunderstanding. We won’t be returning Maris Brown, certainly not.”
This is the time to make my presence known, I think. The agents want to help me—even if they were here to get paid off. Even if they are overlooking the Duvals’ involvement, ready to blame it all on Ellis Exports, and take the Duvals’ money and the credit they’ll get for finally capturing Dr. Alice.
I yell as loudly as I can, my insides tightening and head aching in the attempt to get any sound out. I writhe and push against the side of the boat until I bring myself to my knees, then to my feet. I am still so weak from the poison Karen made me inhale, but I manage to stay standing. I look around. On one side, a place for shipments to be dropped off or collected by land; the other side has an inlet to the ocean. Edison’s mouth hangs open in surprise when he sees me—his hair is disheveled and his eyes are wild. Sepp rushes toward me, jumping in the boat, his face colored in surprise. I don’t know if I can trust Sepp, but there’s nowhere for me to go except in the water, and right now I can’t rely on my body to be able to swim. Edison starts to run after Sepp, but Warren takes him by the arm, yanks him back. Edison calls out as he hits the ground.
Hall and Ryan are alarmed by this commotion. Ryan has a hand over the gun in his waistband. Hall is frowning.
I meet their eyes. I don’t know if I can trust them either. It seems like they were trying to bring me back with them, but maybe they just don’t like that I’m a loose end, someone with incriminating information, and they want to know for themselves what becomes of me. Edison struggles to get up, and Warren kicks him each time he tries, until finally, Warren pulls a small black gun from behind his back and points it at Edison. Edison turns to look at me in the boat, but he stays on the floor, his shaking hands held up in surrender. Ryan’s hand tightens over his own gun, but he doesn’t take it out.