Without life.
Without Gram.
Without Chase.
Oh God. She was crumbling inside.
Be strong. You have to be strong.
It was almost as if Gram were talking to her, but of course, she knew better. Just as she knew it was false hope to think the old woman had survived.
The mix-up of the pills. Too much alcohol.
On your watch and definitely your fault.
Nope.
She wasn’t going to go there.
She wrote the note for Matilda.
As the grandfather clock ticked, she found her jacket and slipped it on. But before she started for the cottage on the other side of the bridge, she glanced back at the telescope. Unable to help herself, she took one more look across the lake. One last time. She swept the lens slowly along the water’s edge on the far shore.
Old Man Sievers was still outside despite the drizzle, a baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.
Alaina Leonetti, Beth’s mother, had joined Cynthia Hunt on her dock. Smoking cigarettes, the two women were huddled together under a large umbrella. Gazes trained on the middle of the lake, they watched the police boat and all the other small craft assembled between the island and the point.
Levi was standing away from his mother with Rand, but he glanced up as if he felt the telescope being leveled at them. His eyebrows drew together as he stared at the mansion on the island. Was he searching for her? Had he seen her in the window?
Possibly.
As she focused on him, he glared straight back.
He knows you’re watching.
And he knows you lied.
She stepped back, away from the damning lens.
Because if looks could kill, she would be a dead woman right now.
Make that a dead, pregnant woman.
1988
The Present
Chapter 9
On days like this Rand Watkins hated his job.
He parked his Jeep in the hospital lot, pocketed his keys, and wished to high heaven that Harper Reed hadn’t shown up in Almsville again.
Because she had always been trouble.
Most likely always would be.
Why couldn’t she just inherit her fortune, sell the damned island, and stay in California? Or wherever.