The Ghosts of Cragera Bay (16 page)

He lit his cigarette with a match and leaned closer. “Eleri. She’s back in Cragera Bay, isn’t she? Did someone see her?”

“No.” Carly shook her head. The man didn’t honestly still believe Eleri had killed those men. Not after three people had been arrested for the crimes. Not after Eleri had nearly been murdered herself. “Why would you think that?”

“Your friend’s missing and you’re here. Why else would you come to me?”

“We came to you because you were the lead detective on the case,” Carly explained. “Detective Miller isn’t taking his disappearance seriously.”

Harding snorted two streams of smoke from his nostrils. “Well that little fucker wouldn’t, would he? Bastard sold me down the river. He pretends he didn’t, still tries to buddy up to me, but I’m no fool. I don’t know what he told the boss, but it must have been a hell of a good story. Otherwise, how did I wind up sacked, and him promoted?”

His continuing obsession with Eleri James might have played a big part of that, but Carly kept the thought to herself.

“Why are you so certain Eleri was guilty, even now?” Declan asked.

“If you’re going to sit there and whine about me railroading your sister, you best get out.” Harding jabbed his dwindling cigarette at him.

Declan merely stared blandly at the man. “I’ve never met my sister. I have no opinion on whether you railroaded her or not. Right now, I want to know why you still suspect her.”

Harding dragged hard on his cigarette, then said on the exhale, “There was something wrong with her, since she was a child. Just a weird, creepy kid. Her stepmother saw her kill a kitten behind the coach house. Said she bashed its head in with a brick. That’s not something a normal little girl does. Then she tried to drown her sister.”

Declan glanced at Carly, and she sat straighter on the settee. “Brynn said it was her mother who tried to drown her. She remembered last spring when Ruth Bigsby pushed her into the bog.”

“I know what that girl said, but I’ll tell you this.” He stubbed his cigarette hard into the overflowing ashtray. It tipped, spilling ash and cigarette butts onto the badly scuffed coffee table, but Harding barely noticed. “When Thomas Grady pulled that child out of the bog, it wasn’t Meris he saw hiding in the woods. It was Eleri.”

Thomas Grady was the village drunk. Carly had met him and wouldn’t have given anything he said a second thought.

Carly thought back to the petite woman she’d spoken to a little more than a month ago. Well spoken, bright, a little shy at first, but the longer they spoke, Carly caught glimpses of a wry sense of humor. When Eleri’s gaze had fallen on Kyle’s, and his eyes met hers, there was no doubt what they felt for each other. She’d almost been envious, or would have been if she believed in the whole “one person forever and ever” sort of deal.

Carly didn’t believe for one moment that woman could have been involved in murdering all those men, in attempting to kill the man she clearly loved.

“She showed psychotic tendencies as a child—” Declan began.

“Not just that,” Harding snapped, reaching for his cigarette packet. Carly’s stomach was already swirling dangerously. She didn’t know how much longer she could last in a perpetual cloud of cigarette smoke. “There were witnesses. With every disappearance, Eleri James was the last person to interact with the victim. Olivia Dodd saw Eleri have words with Daniel Forbes the day before he vanished. Sean Leonard said Billy Lewis complained about Eleri watching him days before he vanished. No one saw him again until we pulled him out of The Devil’s Eye. And Eleri had been seeing Griffin Paskin secretly for months when he vanished.”

“There was evidence, photographs, that his father killed him,” Carly added. She remembered that point very clearly; it was one of the more sensational aspects of the story and the media focused heavily on it.

“She was involved.” Harding lit another cigarette. “I know it. If you want to find your friend, find Eleri James.”

Somehow she really didn’t believe Eleri had driven up from Dorchester and kidnapped Andy. A man nearly a foot taller than her and who probably outweighed her by three stone.

“Thank you for seeing us, Detective,” Declan said, standing. “We appreciate the insight.”

What insight? The man clearly hadn’t given up on blaming Eleri James despite all evidence to the contrary.

Still, she smiled and offered a polite thank-you before she and Declan finally hurried back outside. The sky had darkened to blue twilight and a chilly breeze sent dead leaves scuttling down the cobblestone road.

“What do you think?” Carly asked, once seated on the passenger side of Declan’s aging Land Rover.

He slammed the driver’s side door closed and tugged his seat belt over his shoulder. “The man fucked up and would give anything to prove he hadn’t been wrong all those years.”

“So you don’t think he’s right about your sister?”

Declan looked at her, his features shuttered in the fading light. “You met her. What do you think?”

“There’s no way she had anything to with what happened to Kyle Peirs. I’ve seen them together. As for the rest, I just don’t see it. Stephen Paskin kept photographs of all the people he’d killed. While just how involved his wife was in the murders has never been proven, Dylis Paskin knew what he’d done and actively aided him in keeping the killings secret.”

“And the other man, the doctor?”

“He confessed to Peirs while he was holding him captive.”

“Peirs is the witness, the one who said there were three of them, right?”

She nodded. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m wondering if there’s any significance to so many people seeing Eleri with the victims before they disappeared.”

“Given her reputation, those people might have just been looking for attention, claiming to have seen her to impress others.”

“Maybe.” He rubbed his chin with the back of his hand. “I’m also thinking that if we want to figure out what happened to Andy, I’m going to have to meet my long-lost sister, after all.”

Chapter Thirteen

It was dark by the time Declan turned up Stonecliff’s narrow drive. A steady ache had blossomed at the base of his skull and he could still smell the odor of Harding’s house—either his clothes and hair had absorbed the stench of old cigarettes, or the man’s chain smoking had burned the stink into Declan’s sinuses.

He needed a shower. He needed sleep. And he might very well need a psychiatrist to explain to him why in the hell he was still contemplating visiting a sister he had no interest in knowing.

Because Carly needed his help; it was as simple as that. When had she started to mean something to him? He didn’t have an answer, but counting down the days until he left Stonecliff no longer gave him something to look forward to. Instead, the idea of leaving left him hollow inside.

Not good, and definitely not practical. He had a home, a business, a family who needed him. Even if wanted to see what he’d started with Carly through, he couldn’t. He had too many people counting on him.

A flash of light in the dark car caught his eye. He glanced at Carly beside him while she checked her phone—again.

“No word?” he asked.

“Nothing,” she said, on a soft sigh.

He lifted his hand off the shift and gave her hand a squeeze. “We’re going to find him. He’ll be okay.”

When she’d told him that morning that Andy was gone—and as they’d searched it became clear something had happened to the man—a wave of protectiveness rolled through him. Until they knew what happened to Andy, Declan didn’t want Carly out of his sight.

He pulled into the courtyard and his headlights swept over the side of a blue Jeep parked in front of the house.

Carly stiffened beside him. “Are you expecting anyone?”

“No.” Apprehension tickled the base of his skull.

“Maybe it’s the police. Maybe they found Andy.” Her voice trembled slightly. “It can’t be good news. He would have called or texted if he were okay.”

“I doubt it’s the police with a Jeep. Maybe my real estate agent’s showing the house.”

They got out of the car, and Declan laced his fingers with hers as they started to the front door. Carly’s cold hand gripped hard as he led her into the foyer where Warlow stood waiting as if he’d sensed Declan’s approach, a scowl etched into his smooth features.

“What is it?” Carly asked, her voice unusually small.

Warlow shot her a hard glare before turning his attention to Declan. “You have guests waiting for you. They said you were expecting them.”

Declan frowned, confused. “Who?”

“Your sister.” The man’s eyes glittered like shards of blue ice.

“Eleri?” That would be handy, save him a five-hour drive according to Carly.

Warlow’s scowl deepened. “Brynn and Conway. I can see you were not expecting them, and I will see that they leave immediately.”

“Wait.” Carly grasped the man’s sleeve to stop him. His eyes widened, nostrils flared as he looked down at her hand. “Sorry,” she muttered, then turned to Declan. “I sort of invited them.”

“You did?”
What the hell?
“You invited my sister, who I’ve never expressed an interest in meeting, here?”

“Not exactly.”

“I’ll send them on their way,” Warlow said, and started for the door to the parlor.

“Just leave it,” Declan snapped. His brain was running on overdrive. He couldn’t believe one of his sisters was waiting in the other room, or that Carly had brought her here. He needed a minute to think, to process without the damned butler running his own agenda. “I’ll deal with them. Go on to your room. We’ll be fine.”

Warlow’s face hardened, his eyes bore into Declan like twin lasers. If looks could kill, no doubt all of Declan’s internal organs would have burst under the pressure of his glare.

With a short nod, the fuming butler strode from the foyer to the rear of the house. Once gone, Declan turned his attention back to Carly.

“I called Reece this morning, told him about Andy and asked for his help. I didn’t think he’d bring Brynn if he came, but I guess it’s not surprising he did. Maybe she wanted to meet you.”

“Why did you think he could help you?” Something far too close to jealousy was burrowing low inside him, and he did his best to ignore the sensation.

“Reece will have an insight that no one else will.”

“Oh, the psychic thing.” Declan managed to stop himself from rolling his eyes, but couldn’t keep the derision from his voice.

Carly’s gaze narrowed. “He’s a medium, not a psychic.”

Sure, why not? He’d been seeing ghosts since he got here, so why not this Conway? “Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

Anxiety knotted his insides, though he wasn’t sure why. Why did the idea of meeting his sisters make him so uneasy? Another tie to a place he couldn’t wait to leave?

Though that wasn’t entirely true. He glanced at Carly beside him and she offered him a reassuring smile.

“This isn’t going to be as bad as you think it is,” she told him.

Maybe, maybe not. He pushed open the study door and stepped into the room. Pale lamplight fell over the cream-colored walls and cracked blue inlay. A fire burned in the hearth, casting long flickering shadows over the shabby furnishing. A man and woman seated on the couch both looked up when he walked in.

“Hi.” The woman stood, a soft, hesitant smile pulling at her mouth. She was a few inches shorter than Carly, copper-colored hair falling just past her shoulders, pretty in a quiet sort of way. “I’m Brynn.”

She was the youngest of his sisters, by Arthur’s third wife. She was probably only a few years older than Josh. He thought of his brother who couldn’t hold down a job, who’d washed out of school, slept until midafternoon every day because he’d been out at the bars with his friends the night before like some perpetual frat boy. Maybe it wasn’t fair to compare him to this woman standing so self-possessed before him, but he couldn’t help himself.

Her smile faltered. Probably because he was standing there staring like an idiot. He gave his head a shake. “I’m Declan. Sorry, this is just really strange.”

Her shoulders sagged and her smile stretched wider. “It is, isn’t it? Eight months ago, I didn’t think I had any family. I had no idea about any of this.” She waved her hand around the room. “Now, I have a sister
and
a brother. It kind makes you wonder if Arthur has more children out there. More ex-wives.”

He chuckled. “I hope not for their sake.”

“We should have…
I
should have come to meet you sooner. It’s just this place.” Her smile dimmed and she wrapped her arms around her middle as if to ward off a sudden chill.

All the things Warlow had told him about his sisters, abandoning their father, grasping for Stonecliff even before the man had gone, Brynn only coming here to get what she could before Arthur had passed. None of it was true. The woman before him wanted Stonecliff about as much as he did.

“Do you want something to drink or eat?” he asked. “I can’t imagine Warlow offered you anything.”

The man on the couch snorted, drawing Declan’s attention.

“This is Reece,” Brynn said, gesturing the other man.

Right, the
medium.
He wasn’t what Declan had been expecting, either. He figured the man would have been all smooth charm like most of the conmen he’d met. Like Josh when his brother wanted something. Or pale and all dressed in black like some kind of vampire wannabe. Instead, Reece looked ordinary, sort of. Jeans and a thick gray sweater, his hair in need of a cut even more than Declan’s, the ends falling past the man’s collar—but there was a hardness to him. It was etched into his broad, angled features, glinted in his cool, light eyes.

“We’re okay,” Brynn said, sitting down again beside Conway. He stretched his arm across the back of the couch behind her. “I’m sorry I waited until this happened to come to see you.” She glanced past him at Carly perched on the edge of her seat. “Have you heard anything about your friend?”

Carly shook her head, her attention shifting to Conway. “You haven’t picked up anything?”

He shook his head. “Not about Andy.”

She leaned forward, gripping the chair’s frayed arms. “But something.”