Chapter 22 #2
I sighed as I saw the dead end he'd just run into. Even if it was Ray's truck, we couldn't prove it had picked up Jessica unless she was seen on the video. "This is so frustrating."
"Believe me, I hate finding bits and pieces as much as you do, but I'm excited to have a new lead. If I can confirm the license plate, my friend said we might be able to pick up the truck on the bigger highway cameras later that day, which would tell us where they went."
"Okay, that sounds promising."
"I think so," he said, a more hopeful note in his voice than I'd heard in a while. "What's going on with you? Any more leads on Natalie? And, hey, I'm sorry about not getting those building plans."
"Don't worry about that. I can go by the building department, too, but even if there is a tunnel, it probably comes out at a point on the beach where there are no cameras."
"Probably," he agreed. "Are you still staying at the inn?"
"One more night. Tessa can't leave the hospital until tomorrow, and I'm still trying to figure something out before I have to leave."
"Are you talking to your grandmother about what happened?"
"She's talking but not about Natalie or Jessica."
"What's she talking about? Your family?"
"She's said a little about the family, but nothing that revealing. I think she's trying to tell me just enough to satisfy me and then send me on my way. But I'm not giving up yet."
"Well, I would steer clear of Ray. Don't be anywhere by yourself. Make sure you stay in public places with a lot of eyes on you."
"I will. Call me when you know more. If we can prove that Ray took Jessica somewhere, that could break everything open."
"I know how important this is," he said seriously.
"Have you told your brother you have a lead?"
"Not yet. I don't want to get his hopes up until I know more."
"Good luck."
"You, too." As I ended the call, I felt a little more optimistic, but I also couldn't help thinking that if that video pointed to Ray, then it might also point to my grandmother, and I might have to face the fact that she wasn't just a bad grandmother, she was also a horrible person.
That thought derailed my optimism, but I couldn't jump ahead. One step at a time.
I got up, threw out my empty salad container and returned to the car. Wandering around town on my own hadn't gotten me very far, so I headed back to the inn. Maybe I could chat with Dorothy. She'd been friendly, and she knew everyone better than I did.
Unfortunately, when I got back to the inn, I found her usual chair empty, no sign of her or her knitting. I stopped at the desk to ask Moira if she knew where Dorothy was and discovered that she'd checked out that morning. That was disappointing.
With no one else to talk to, I went back upstairs and into my room. I sat on my bed, feeling frustrated and restless. I wasn't going to get anywhere by just sitting here, but I didn't know what to do next.
After a moment of debate, I took out my phone and called Sophie.
"Hello?" she said.
"Hi, it's Cassidy. I was wondering if I could talk to you. Are you at the pub?"
"No, I'm at home, waiting for Cole. With everything going on, we decided to leave today.
We're heading for New York, Cassidy. I can hardly believe it, but Finn gave me the money I needed to go now, and Cole is fed up with his dad, so we're going to do it.
We're actually going to get out of this town. "
"I'm happy for you." I paused, then said, "Did you tell Finn you were leaving today? He and I witnessed a fight between Cole and his dad yesterday, and Finn was a little worried about you and Cole taking off together."
"We talked about that, but no one has to worry. I know Cole. He only goes crazy when he's talking to his dad. He would never hurt me. He's not like that."
Sophie sounded absolutely convinced by her words, and I didn't know Cole well enough to contradict her. "Well, that's good to hear. I hope it all works out."
"It will. I just need Cole to get here already. We were supposed to leave thirty minutes ago."
That seemed troubling. "Why do you think he's late?"
"I don't know, but I want to get on the road, so he better get here soon." Sophie paused. "When will you be back in Manhattan?"
"Probably Saturday."
"Great. I'll look you up. I wasn't sure you were going to leave without figuring out what happened to Natalie. What are your listeners going to think if there's no resolution?"
"I don't know. I'm still hoping to get a last-minute break. But in the meantime, I'm learning more about Stonecross and my family, so that's something."
"I still can't believe you're Ellen's granddaughter. You two are nothing alike."
"I would agree with that."
"Is she talking to you about your dad, their past?"
"Not really. I need to find more people in town who are willing to do that. Your parents were helpful, but I need more information. I was actually hoping to speak to Dorothy again, but I heard she checked out."
"You could go see her. She lives in town."
"Do you know where?"
"I don't know the exact address, but she lives in the white house with yellow shutters on the first block of Maple Drive. I dropped her off there once when she needed a ride home."
"Thanks. I'll check that out. Have a safe drive to New York, and, hopefully, we'll catch up there."
"I can't wait. Bye, Cassidy."
After hanging up the phone, I grabbed my bag and keys and headed back out to find Dorothy.
On the way, I couldn't help wondering why Cole was late in meeting Sophie.
Was his father trying to stop him from leaving?
It seemed likely there was more family drama going on, and I hoped Sophie didn't get caught in the middle of it.
Dorothy's house was a modest white colonial with a garden that was beautifully maintained.
I rang the bell and waited, hoping Dorothy might be able to tell me something I didn't already know.
I wasn't actually that interested in finding out more about my father or family right now.
I needed to find out what Dorothy knew about Ray, because he seemed to be a shadowy figure in everything that was going on.
Maybe if I told her about the video footage, she'd tell me something in return.
A moment later, the door opened, and Dorothy's face lit up with surprise. "Cassidy! What a lovely surprise. Come in, dear."
"I hope I'm not intruding. I tried to find you at the inn, but they said you'd checked out."
"I came home this morning." She ushered me into a cozy living room filled with family photos and comfortable furniture. "Can I get you some tea?"
"No, thank you. I actually wanted to talk to you about something."
"Of course." She settled into a floral armchair and gestured for me to take the sofa.
I perched on the edge, trying to figure out how to phrase my concerns. "I've been hearing things about Ray. And I'm worried about what's really going on at the inn."
Dorothy's expression grew troubled. "I have to say all this talk has gotten me more concerned, too.
But Cassidy, I've known Ellen for fifty years.
She's a hard woman; I won't deny that. But she's not cruel.
And Ray—he's had a rough life, but he's loyal to Ellen because she gave him a chance when no one else would. "
"I understand your loyalty, but what about Natalie? What about Jessica and Anna?"
"I don't know what happened to them. But I don't believe Ellen or Ray hurt anyone," she said decisively.
"They wouldn't do that. Sometimes people just leave, Cassidy.
Sometimes they need to disappear and start over.
All three of those women seemed lost when I met them.
They were lovely women but sad, too. They were running from things in their past. Maybe their pasts caught up with them. "
"All three? Don't you think that's a bit coincidental?"
"I really don't," she said with a definitive shake of her head.
"It's not like someone disappeared every day.
It's been over the course of a year, and like I said, those women were searching for something.
They weren't content. They were lonely. They wanted love, family, something to fill the void in their hearts. "
"I didn't realize you'd talked to all of them."
"I talk to everyone. Anna didn't say much, though. She was like a scared little rabbit, darting away every time someone looked at her. But the others were a bit more open. And so pretty, too. It was sad. They had beauty and heart, but they were still unhappy."
"I just wish I had proof that my grandmother isn't sticking her head in the sand, that Ray or someone else isn't doing something that could come back to hurt her, too."
"Maybe you just need to trust your grandmother. Get to know her."
"How can I when she won't open up?"
"You keep trying. You seem like a woman with a lot of stubborn determination, much like your grandmother, in fact. Or maybe you need to press your father for information. Does he know you're here?"
"No. And he's as tight-lipped as she is. They have some secret. It might have to do with my grandfather, maybe Lily, or maybe both. But neither one of them wants to talk about it, and I don't know how to break this deadlock."
"Lily? I haven't heard that name in a long time."
"Apparently, my father had a crush on her. And then she killed herself."
"That was a very sad situation. I wish I could help." Dorothy stopped abruptly. "Maybe I can."
"How?"
"Pictures."
"I've seen a few photos of my grandmother and my dad when he was a little boy. I'm not sure more photos will help."
"What about when your father was in high school?
When he was playing baseball? When your grandmother used to cheer him on at his games?
" Her face grew more animated as she spoke.
"Lily used to go to those games, too. I bet I have pictures of her as well.
I didn't have children of my own, but I was always close to the Holloway family, and I used to go to all the games to cheer Tom on. He and David played on the same team."
"And they liked the same girl."
"I don't know about that, but I think it would be good for you to see your father and your grandparents in happier times so that you can get a better idea of who they really are."
"That could help, I suppose." Looking at family photos wouldn't get me closer to finding Natalie, but it might help me understand the two people who shared my blood but little else.
"Let's go downstairs," she said cheerily, leading me through the kitchen and down a stairway to the basement.
It was quite a large room and very full, I thought, as she flipped on the lights.
An assortment of random old furniture was along one wall, as well as a workbench with tools, and an area for gardening equipment.
There were also quite a few boxes and a couple of old filing cabinets.
"Let me see," Dorothy muttered, moving toward a stack of boxes in the corner.
"I think the yearbooks and photos are in these boxes.
My husband, Harold, was always organizing things down here, but I haven't been through any of this since he passed.
It was difficult enough to clear his things out of the house, the bedroom.
" She smiled sadly. "It's funny how the memories hit at the oddest times. Anyway, let's start opening boxes."
"Are you sure you want to do that? I don't want to create more clutter for you to clean up."
"It would be good for me to see what's here, and I won't have to do it by myself, so that's a bonus. I'll start here. You start over there."
"Okay," I said, my gaze moving to a stack of paint cans next to me. Tucked behind them was a large cardboard box. I was about to reach for it when the doorbell rang upstairs.
"Oh, who could that be?" Dorothy said, giving me an apologetic smile as she headed for the stairs. "I'll be right back. Keep looking."
I pulled the paint cans apart and grabbed the box, pulling it over to me.
It wasn't taped like some of the others, and I squatted down to take a look inside.
There was a colorful pink scarf on the top, but it had dark red spots on it, which reminded me of the carpet I'd seen taken out of Anna's room.
I took it out and saw more odd items underneath, including a sparkly silver chain with a heart-shaped locket.
As I picked it up and turned it over, my hand began to shake. There were initials carved on the back: NAW. My breath caught in my throat. Oh, my God!
Was this Natalie's locket? The one Dorothy had described, the one I'd seen around Natalie's neck in some of the photos I'd found. It seemed impossible to believe that it was here. But those were her initials, standing for Natalie Anne Warren.
Holding the locket tight, I peered back into the box, seeing a silver bracelet, a turquoise ring, a woman's beanie, and then an envelope with strands of dark hair flowing out of it. Why would there be hair in an envelope?
I felt suddenly sick. I couldn't pick up that envelope. I couldn't look inside.
Getting to my feet, Natalie's locket still clutched in my fingers, my mind raced with questions. Why were these things here in Dorothy's basement?
She couldn't be a killer, could she?
No. That was impossible. She was a sweet old lady, and she'd brought me down here as if she had nothing to hide.
But I couldn't stay down here. I needed to get upstairs, to go to the sheriff, or maybe to Finn, to someone I could trust.
Before I could move, I heard someone come through the door, and then footsteps on the basement stairs that seemed too heavy to belong to Dorothy.
"Dorothy?" I called, turning toward the steps. I froze in shock.
It wasn't Dorothy coming down to the basement.
And any hope of escape had just vanished.