Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
Finn and I left his parents' house a half hour later. When we got to our cars, Finn said, "I think we should keep talking, Cassidy. About Lily being the first one to disappear."
"It was a long time ago, and it wasn't like the others. I could be wrong."
"Or you could be right. The way your father left and the fact that he has never wanted you to have contact with your grandmother, he either thought she had something to do with his father's death or with Lily's death—maybe both.
I can't think of any other reason he would have cut off all ties with his mother. Have you thought about asking him?"
"Only like a million times, but every time I have tried in the past, his reaction is stone-cold anger. Our relationship is so tenuous, I feel like if I do one more thing wrong, it will snap, and that will be it, and I won't have family anymore."
"Why is it so tenuous?"
"It's a long story."
"I want to keep talking," he repeated. "About everything, and I want a chance to talk to you about what happened with Tessa and Nathan."
"I thought you told me everything you knew about that."
"I thought I did, too, but maybe I missed something. I think we should go over everything again. You need an ally, Cassidy."
His words reminded me of Tyler, but I wasn't sure he was my ally now that he'd realized I'd kept a big secret from him.
"And I want to help you figure out what's going on at that inn," Finn continued. "This is my hometown. This is where my parents and sister live, where I have a business. If someone is hurting female tourists, then I want to stop them."
"You're the first person in this town to say anything close to that."
"Why don't we go to my apartment? We can talk freely there, better than if we go to the inn."
I hesitated, and his gaze shifted.
"You're afraid to come to my apartment.” he said flatly. "I guess I can't blame you."
"Is there somewhere we could talk that isn't your apartment? The beach, a garden, a park—maybe we could take a walk?"
"I know a spot. Follow me."
"Where are we going?" I asked as we walked to our cars.
He gave me a smile that made my heart skip a beat, and I had no idea what that was about.
"You'll find out," he said.
"Well, don't lose me," I told him.
"I won't," he said, his words seeming to have more meaning than they should have.
Finn led me through town and down a narrow road I hadn't noticed before.
It wound along the coastline, away from the main tourist areas, until we reached a small parking lot near a weathered lighthouse.
The white tower stood sentinel over rocky outcroppings that jutted into the sea, and a narrow path led down to a sheltered cove.
"This is beautiful," I said as we met up.
"It's one of my favorite places. Most tourists don't know about it.
The main lighthouse is on the other side of town—bigger, more photogenic.
This one's been decommissioned for years, but the town keeps it maintained.
" He gestured toward the path. "There's a bench down there where you can watch the water. It's peaceful."
We walked down the rocky path in silence.
The wind carried the smell of salt and seaweed, and gulls squealed overhead, their cries echoing off the cliffs.
When we reached the bottom, I saw what he meant—an old wooden bench sat on a flat outcropping, protected from the worst of the wind by the curve of the rocks.
We sat down, and for a moment neither of us spoke. The endless ocean stretched out before us, the waves rolling in with rhythmic persistence.
"I used to come here when I was a kid," Finn said finally. "When things got loud at home, and I needed to think."
"Things got loud?" I queried.
"Sophie is ten years younger than me. My parents tried for years to have a second kid, and when she came along, they were ecstatic. I was also thrilled to have a baby sister. But she was a loud baby and a loud toddler and a loud kid."
I smiled at his description. "So, you're saying she was loud…"
He smiled back at me. "I guess she was a typical kid, but by the time I was a teenager, I just felt like I needed to be out of the toy-filled chaos of our home so I could think about what I wanted to do with my life."
"That makes sense. And I can relate to needing quiet at times.
I live in one of the noisiest cities in the world.
Sirens blare all night long. Sometimes, I put the pillow over my head and ears so I can dull the sound, but then I tell myself I'm lucky to be living in New York, that it's where the opportunities are. "
"To be a journalist or a podcaster? Or both?"
"That's not an easy question to answer. I always wanted to be a reporter, to write the story that everyone talks about, that changes lives forever, that speaks truth to power, but I'm finding that the reality of that kind of investigative work is pretty terrifying."
"And yet you haven't quit. You haven't run away. That says a lot about you."
"Some people might say that means I'm stupid," I said with a self-deprecating smile.
"Or some might call it brave. I personally lean toward brave.
But maybe that's because I saw you last night, inches away from losing your life, and here you are today, back in the fight.
And you're fighting for someone you don't even know.
Natalie Warren wasn't a friend, was she?
" he suddenly asked. "Is there more you haven't told me? "
"No. She wasn't a friend. We were looking for a cold case that we could relate to, that our audience could relate to.
When I saw the Stonecross connection, it felt like all the signs were pointing to Natalie.
I could relate to her. She lived in New York, about three blocks from my apartment.
She'd broken up with her boyfriend, changed jobs, apartments, and she and her family were estranged.
She was basically alone in the world, and I started thinking if I didn't show up somewhere, who would notice?
Certainly not my dad, not for a few months anyway.
Maybe around a holiday or Father's Day when I'd be expected to call in.
" I cleared my throat, realizing I was getting off track.
"Anyway, that's how it all came together.
Tessa and I headed up here, and our friend, Morgan, was supposed to meet us, but she couldn't come.
So, it was just the two of us. Then Tessa got hurt, and it was on me. "
"I'm really sorry Tessa got hurt."
"You've apologized several times. You don't have to do it again."
"Okay. Then tell me more about your father. About why your relationship is so tenuous."
I pulled my jacket closer as the wind picked up.
"He's just...disappointed in me. He always has been.
I think when my mom died, all the softness in him died too.
She was the buffer, you know? The one who made him laugh, who made him human.
Without her, he just became this cold, focused machine.
Work, money, success—that's all that mattered to him. "
"And you don't fit that mold."
"Not even close." I let out a bitter laugh.
"I went to the college he wanted. I studied accounting and economics like he insisted.
I got good grades, but I hated every second of it.
And when I finally told him I wanted to be a journalist, he looked at me like I'd just told him I wanted to be a street performer. "
"Seriously?"
"Yes. He told me I was wasting my potential.
That journalism was a dying field. That I'd never make any money or amount to anything.
He was probably right about the money part.
I lost my job three months ago. My studio apartment is barely bigger than a closet.
I've been living on peanut butter and ramen, trying to make the podcast work, because my resume seems to fall into a big black hole wherever I send it. "
"Well, the podcast is working. You've got thousands of people listening now."
"Yeah, but it took nearly dying to get that audience." I shook my head. "I don't know. Maybe my dad was right. I should have just become an accountant or an economist and made him proud for once in my life."
"Would that have made you happy?"
"No. But at least I'd have a family." The words came out before I could stop them, and I immediately regretted the vulnerability. "Sorry. That sounded pathetic."
"Everyone wants to belong somewhere. To feel like they matter to someone."
"I guess." We fell silent for a moment, and then I said, "What was it like being in the military?"
"It was great. I loved the structure, the purpose, the sense of being part of something bigger than myself.
I had a team of men and women that I could count on, and I also got to travel.
I was stationed in Germany and Japan and spent time in the Middle East. I saw horror and I also saw unexpected beauty, but what I really began to understand was how complex the world was…
" His voice trailed off. Then he gathered his thoughts together and said, "But when my dad had the stroke, Sophie called me, crying.
She was barely twenty-one and trying to manage the bar and take care of him while my mom was falling apart. "
"So you came home."
"Just for a few months, I told myself. Just until he got better." Finn's smile was rueful. "That was two years ago. And now...I don't know. Part of me still wants to leave. See more of the world, have adventures. But part of me thinks maybe I'm supposed to be here. That this is where I belong."
"Your dad's better now. Couldn't you leave if you wanted to?"
"He's better, but he's not the same. And he's not sure he wants to run the bar full-time anymore. Sophie's leaving. My mom needs help with the house. And beyond all that..." He paused. "This is my home. Maybe it's time to accept that."
"As long as you're not living your life for someone else."
"Didn't you just say you wished you'd done that?" he asked dryly.