Chapter 9 #2
"Okay. What about this one?" Tyler scrolled to another photo, "This is Jessica Trent."
My breath caught. Jessica also had dark-brown hair, slightly different features, but the resemblance between her and Natalie was striking. Same age range, late twenties to early thirties, same coloring, same general build.
"They look alike," I said, surprise in my voice.
"Do they look like Anna?"
"A little."
Tyler's eyes met mine, and there was something intense and almost frightening in his gaze. "They also look a lot like you, Cassidy."
"I don't think so."
"Don't you? Isn't that why the blood just drained from your face? When I saw you on the beach yesterday morning, I thought you were Jessica, but then I realized you just looked like her."
I shivered at his words. I did have dark-brown hair and brown eyes. I was about the same age, the same height. "It's just a coincidence—"
"Or a pattern."
"A lot of women have dark-brown hair, and I'm sure many have stayed at the inn over the years and haven't vanished.
I don't think two women, or even three, is that strong of a pattern when you think about how many women have stayed at inn in the last year.
" I didn't know if I was trying to convince him or myself.
"And aside from looks, I'm not like the women who've disappeared.
I'm not running away or searching for something more.
From what I've read about Natalie, she was at a crossroads.
A long relationship had ended. Her family relationship was strained.
She'd moved, changed jobs…" I licked my lips.
"And didn't you say Jessica had gotten out of a bitter divorce? "
"She'd had a rough year," he admitted.
"And Anna showed signs of physical abuse. I'm not like them."
Silence followed my words as we stood there on the isolated beach, two people who'd come to Stonecross for different women but had found the same dark mystery at its center.
"You should still leave town, Cassidy."
His words reminded me of the note I'd received. "You didn't write that on a note and slip it under my door, did you?"
"No. Did someone leave you a note?"
"Yes, and it said I should leave. It also appeared that someone had searched my room earlier. Tessa's, too."
"Then why the hell are you still in town?"
"Mrs. Clarke said that there were teenagers pulling pranks last night, and she was sure it was one of them. She said they left this morning. And as for my room being searched, a housekeeper goes in every afternoon to refresh the towels and tidy up. She dismissed my concerns entirely."
"Well, you shouldn't dismiss your own concern. Trust your gut."
"That's what I'm doing. I'm not going to get scared away by a note."
He crossed his arms, giving me a speculative look. "All this for a podcast?" he mused. "Seems like you're not telling me everything."
"I could say the same thing about you. You're spending an awful lot of time looking for someone who is just a friend."
"I'm loyal to my friends. And Jessica doesn't have anyone else to look for her."
"I might not be Natalie's friend, but I'm still committed to finding out what happened to her. I'm not walking away now. I'm just going to be careful." I paused. "It might help if we work together, but not publicly. We don't want to tip anyone off that we're comparing notes."
"I'm willing to work with you, but my priority is finding Jessica, not Natalie."
"That's fine. I think there's a good chance there's a connection between them. Let’s meet tomorrow. I can text you in the morning, and we can figure out a time and place.”
“Sounds good. What’s your number?" he asked as he pulled out his phone.
I rattled off my number, and he sent me a text in reply. Then he said, "I'm going to follow you back to the inn, but I'll stay a good distance behind you."
"Okay. Thanks."
His gaze followed me the entire way up the hill, and it was reassuring to know that he was watching my back.
It was almost four when I got back to my room. I knocked on Tessa's door, but there was no answer. I sent her a text, but she didn't immediately reply. As worry crept up my spine, I went into my room and checked for signs of anyone having been inside, but it looked the same as when I'd left it.
I sat down at the desk and felt immense relief when a text came back from Tessa. "Sorry, we went out with one of Finn's friends on his boat, and I didn't have reception. Heading back to the harbor now. Should be back around six."
I couldn't believe Tessa had gone out on a boat with Finn after knowing that Jessica Trent had disappeared after a sail.
Of course, Tessa probably wouldn't have made that connection or would have decided it was worth the risk because she wasn't in Stonecross alone; I was with her, and Finn would know that I'd be able to tell the sheriff she'd gone out with him.
Although maybe the sheriff wouldn't care. He and Finn were friends.
I decided to call Morgan and see if she was free to chat for a minute. Fortunately, she answered on the second ring.
"Hey, Cassidy. I've been thinking about you and Tessa all day. Have you learned anything new?"
I filled her in on the note from the night before, Anna, the bloody carpet, and my chat with Tyler Pierce. With each word, Morgan grew more concerned.
"This is bad, Cassidy."
"It's not all bad. Tyler Pierce seems like a possible ally."
"About Tyler. I did some research on him as you requested and found something interesting.
Tyler has a brother named Marcus Pierce, who is currently awaiting trial for corporate fraud, embezzlement, and other criminal charges.
He was in jail but is now restricted to his home with an ankle monitor.
Did Tyler tell you anything about his brother? "
"No, but we didn't discuss his family or mine. I'm not sure his brother's issues are relevant."
"Maybe not. But isn't it a little odd that Tyler is in Maine looking for a friend when his brother is in a significant amount of trouble?"
"They might not be close."
"True. Frankly, I don't care about him. I'm more worried about you and Tessa. Where is she anyway?"
"Apparently on a boat with Finn Kelly. They were just supposed to go to lunch, so I don't know how that happened."
"A boat?" she shrieked. "After what happened to Jessica Trent?"
"You know Tessa; she's more confident and courageous than we are. If she thought she'd get something out of Finn by going out on a boat, she'd do just that."
"I'm afraid she's rubbing off on you, Cassidy. You're acting recklessly, too." Morgan paused, and I heard a commotion in the background. "I need to go. Aiden is home. We'll talk later."
"Okay. Bye." I set down my phone and thought about the information she'd given me on Tyler's family.
I couldn't imagine how his brother figured into Tyler's search for Jessica.
It was probably unrelated. We all had family drama.
And I certainly couldn't object to Tyler holding back information on his brother when I had an even messier family relationship with Ellen Clarke, a woman who didn't even know I was her granddaughter.
Putting all that aside, I took out my notebook and wrote down my thoughts about Jessica, without mentioning I'd gotten the information from Tyler. If anyone searched my things again, I didn't want them to see the connection between us.
As the shadows lengthened, I turned on the lights and then decided to head downstairs around six. I was hungry, and I might as well go to happy hour. Maybe a glass of wine would settle my nerves.
The dining room had the usual setup—wine, cheese, crackers, and other snacks. Dorothy was chatting with an older couple while the honeymooners were lost in their own world. I smiled at everyone but took my plate and glass of wine to an empty table, not really in the mood to make small talk.
At seven, my phone buzzed. Tessa was finally checking in.
But when I looked at the text, my heart sank. It was barely readable, the letters jumbled, and autocorrect had clearly failed: I'm back. U didnt answr ur door. Coming downstairs
My stomach tightened. What the hell was wrong with Tessa? Was she drunk?
I texted back: I'm in the dining room.
No response.
I set down my wine glass and got to my feet. Before I could move, I heard a crash and a long, piercing scream that brought the dining room to silence. I ran through the living room and into the reception area.
And there at the bottom of the stairs was Tessa, crumpled in a heap, her leg bent at a horrible angle.
"Tessa!" I dropped to my knees beside her as Ellen came down a back hallway.
Tessa was conscious, but her face was twisted in pain. Blood trickled from a cut on her forehead. And her leg—oh God, her leg. I could see bone through the torn fabric of her jeans.
"Oh, my God," Ellen said, pulling out her phone. "I'm calling 911."
"Don't move," I said to Tessa, putting my hand on her shoulder. "Help will be here soon."
"What happened?" Ray asked as he came into the lobby along with the other guests, who were all now crowding around.
"I don't know," Ellen said, looking at me.
"I wasn't with her," I said. "I was in the dining room. I heard her scream. I guess she fell down the stairs."
Tessa was making agonizing, raw sounds of pain, her eyes squeezed shut, but the smell of alcohol on her breath was very strong.
Ellen crouched down but didn't touch her. "The ambulance will be here soon. Try to stay still, dear."
Tessa moaned in response.
Ellen's gaze turned to me. "Is she drunk?"
"I don't know."
Ellen got up to reassure the guests that the paramedics were on their way, while I tried to comfort Tessa, who seemed completely out of it. I wanted to ask her what had happened, but she was drifting in and out of consciousness.
Thankfully, the paramedics arrived within a few minutes. They stabilized Tessa's leg and carefully moved her onto a stretcher. She was barely coherent, and the words that did come out were slurred and confused.
I grabbed my bag from my room and followed the ambulance to the Seabrook Medical Center, which was about fifteen miles away. The drive felt endless, my mind racing with images of Tessa at the bottom of those stairs, her leg bent wrong, blood on her face.
She had to be all right. She just had to be.