Page 35 of The Hawthorne Legacy
I filed that away for future reference. “Have you seen a picture of Sheffield Grayson?” I asked Xander quietly. Do you know who he is to your brother?
In response, Xander did an image search and then sucked in a breath. “Oh.”
Xander somehow persuaded Dr. Meghani that I intended to approach my essay by comparing white space in nature to white space in the arts, and she authorized us to spend the rest of the class period outside. When we reached the perimeter of the wooded acreage just south of the baseball diamond, Xander stopped. So did I—and four feet away, so did Eli.
“What are we waiting for?” I asked.
Xander pointed, and I saw Rebecca coming toward us from about a hundred yards away.
“I’m starting to understand why you call your side the dark side,” I muttered.
“The old man had a soft spot for Rebecca,” Xander told me. “Bex knew him pretty well, and I don’t think he expected me to do this alone.”
I gestured to myself. “You’re not alone.”
“And you’re on my team? Not Jamie’s?” Xander gave me a look. “Not Gray’s?”
“Why do there have to be teams?” I asked.
“It’s just the way they are. Hawthornes, I mean.” Rebecca came to a stop in front of me. When I turned to look at her, she looked down. “You said you have news?” she asked Xander.
“Let’s wait for Thea,” Xander suggested.
“Thea?” I grumbled.
“She’s delightfully Machiavellian, and she hates to lose.” Xander was absolutely unapologetic. “I like what that does to my odds.”
“She’s also Zara’s niece,” I couldn’t help pointing out. “And she hates you and your brothers.”
“Hates is a strong word,” Xander hedged. “Thea just loves us in a somewhat negative and occasionally vitriolic way.”
“Thea isn’t coming,” Rebecca said, interrupting the back-and-forth between Xander and me.
“She isn’t?” Xander raised his lone eyebrow.
“I just…” Rebecca took a breath, and the wind caught in her dark red hair. “I can’t, Xan. Not today.”
What’s today?
“What’s the new lead?” Rebecca asked, her expression begging Xander not to press her further. “What do we know?”
Xander gave a slight nod, and then he cut to the chase. “One of our persons of interest is Grayson’s father. Jamie and Gray are, I assume, making contact. Until we find out what they find out, our only option is following up on my other lead.”
“What other lead?” I asked.
“Camden House,” Xander said definitively. “Cross-referencing its major donors to the victims on Hawthorne Island led to two matches. David Golding’s family are platinum-level supporters. Colin Anders Wright’s uncle gave a onetime, but very generous, donation. And though I haven’t identified any direct donations from my grandfather, I have a theory.”
“Toby was a patient there,” I cut in. “Nan told me as much.”
“I’m almost positive that all three of the boys did a stint at Camden House,” Xander said. “I think that’s where they met.”
I thought about the news coverage of the fire. The suggestion that there had been a wild party that had spun out of control. The way that the tragedy had been blamed, again and again, on Kaylie Rooney, when the three upstanding young men had been partying straight out of rehab.
“If the boys met at Camden House,” Rebecca said slowly, “then…”
“Exactly! Then… what?” Xander bounced from one foot to the other.
“This tells us something about their state of mind that summer,” I said. “Leading up to the fire.”
