Chapter 6 Carrie
CARRIE
The helicopter’s wash lifted leaves and grit in a spiral that stung Carrie’s cheeks.
She stood in the yard with Matt and watched the aircraft rise above the black line of the trees, lights winking as it tilted and climbed.
For a breath, she allowed herself the small, aching relief of knowing Paula had gone with Oscar, and that Maggie and Cody were here, alive and warm, not a distant shape behind glass.
When the air settled again, the island sounded different.
The storm had scraped everything clean. Rain still dripped from the eaves.
Palm fronds clicked together like loose beads.
Far off, waves rolled against the shore with a tired hush.
Carrie drew in the cold, salt-heavy air and turned toward Lori’s front steps.
Inside, the house felt both familiar and strange, as if the walls were holding their own breath.
Matt made the introductions at once. “Alisha, Trent, this is Andy,” he said, gesturing toward the weathered man with a kind face and steady eyes.
“And Ian Marshall.” Ian stood near the end of the sofa, his wrists were free now.
The red marks from the cuffs stood out starkly against his skin.
Before any more could be said, the dogs were let out of the kitchen, and they exploded from the hallway in a whirlwind of paws and tongues, skidding across the rug and leaping at the children with wild joy.
Maggie laughed, a bright crack in the heavy air, and Cody ducked behind her, only to be ambushed by a flurry of kisses.
“Okay, okay, you two,” Carrie said, though the smile tugging at her mouth softened the words. “Why don’t you take them to your room so they can calm down a little.”
Maggie rolled her eyes with affectionate drama. “Just say the adults want to talk, Grams,” she said, grinning. “That’s what Mom says.”
“The adults want to talk,” Trent echoed with mock gravity. He pointed at the hall and lunged. The children squealed, the dogs barked, and the whole pack took off in a tangle of laughter and wagging tails.
Carrie watched them go and felt the pressure in her chest ease another inch. “They don’t seem too affected,” she said, half to herself.
Trent’s expression sobered. “They’ll need to talk it through,” he said. “Not right this second. Later, when things are quiet. Both of them.”
“Maybe with Tessa on a video call,” Carrie said. “We need to tell her what happened.”
Trent stared at her as if she had suggested they invite a hurricane to tea. “Do you really want to tell Tessa, Worrywart Queen, about this?” He looked pained.
When Carrie nodded, he tipped his head back and let out a small groan, turning toward a curious Alisha and Matt.
“My mother wants my twin sister to be here on the first plane out, because that is what Tessa will do when she hears her daughter was kidnapped. Then she’ll debrief each of us.
Separately. Then together.” He set his jaw and dropped to the sofa beside Alisha as if bracing for impact.
“She will rip into each of us with the fine precision of a seasoned interrogator, drawing every inch of truth out of each of us.”
“Is she also in law enforcement?” Alisha asked, curiosity bright in her eyes.
“No,” Trent said, horrified. “She is much worse. She’s an attorney.”
A laugh slipped out of Carrie before she could help it. The normal sound felt strange in her throat. She caught herself and lifted her hands. “Tea or coffee?” she asked. The chorus of yes, please came from every corner of the room.
“I’ll do it,” Andy said, already pushing up from his chair. “You sit down.” He picked up the tray and headed for the kitchen with the quick, quiet efficiency of a man who liked to be useful.
“Great,” Trent said, grateful for the movement. He turned those focused eyes back to Carrie. “While Andy is doing that, maybe you and Matt can catch us up on everything that has been going on here.”
So she did. She told them about the deeds, the murder, the storm, and the long night, and the way fear had lodged behind her ribs like a stone.
She told them about Ian being found in the house, the taser, and the knife.
About Oscar. About the years of leases and the probate, and how Trevor had tried to hold too much and had broken under the weight of it.
Matt filled in the holes she could not fill, his voice low and steady beside hers.
As they spoke, Ian sat still and listened, jaw tight.
When they reached the end, the room felt different, as if they had cleared a path through brush to a view neither of them liked.
Trent turned to Ian. “Where in the main bedroom is this hidden compartment?”
“I have to show you,” Ian said. His voice carried a rubbed-raw kind of resolve. “It’s not easy to spot.”
Carrie’s gaze caught his for a second. He looked back at her as if he wanted to say more, then glanced away.
Andy returned with the tray balanced on one hand, the steam from the cups curling in the air like small ghosts.
“I have a police dinghy coming for me in forty-five minutes,” he said as he set everything down.
He shifted his attention to Ian. “I’m sorry, Ian, but my captain has asked that you come with me for questioning.
We’re going to help you find your wife and son. ”
Ian’s face turned ashen. “What if they hurt them because I’ve involved the police?” His hands tightened at his sides.
“I don’t think they will,” Andy said with quiet confidence. “You have something Dick wants. I’ve been told he has been spotted. He is being watched by a security agency. They’ve been waiting for a reason to pick him up. This gives them one.”
Carrie felt the name like a grit in her teeth. “We don’t have the evidence it is Dick yet,” she said. Saying it out loud made her stomach roll. A guess was not enough. Not for what had already happened. Not for Katy.
“Once we have the disk and the information Trevor and I gathered,” Ian said, eyes darkening, “we can put him away on that.”
“And Katy,” Carrie said. “He needs to pay for that, too.”
Ian’s gaze dropped. The grief there had its own gravity. “He will,” he said. He lifted his head. “I’ll see to it.”
Trent stood, energy moving through him like a wire.
“Why don’t you take me to where you hid the items,” he said to Ian, “and we’ll get it now.
” He looked at Carrie and Matt. “I think it’s best if you take the kids to Matt’s house for a while.
They’ve had enough. They don’t need to see the police here as well, or Ian and I looking for evidence that has already put their lives in danger. ”
He was right. The practical part of Carrie clicked into place. “We’ll go,” she said, turning to Matt.
“I need to check for damage anyway,” Matt said. “The yard took a beating.”
“I’ll get the kids,” Alisha said. She took two quick sips of coffee, set the cup with care, and headed down the hall.
Trent glanced toward the kitchen. “What kind of knife do you need, Ian?”
“Something thin but strong,” Ian said. “A short blade is better.”
Trent nodded once. “I’ll look.” He disappeared around the corner.
“I need my jacket from your house,” Andy said to Matt. “Radio and badge are in the pocket.”
“Of course,” Matt said. “We can all go together.”
“I have some time so I can help check for damage and pull some of the boards down,” Andy offered.
“Thanks,” Matt accepted his offer. “The more help the better.”
The house shifted again, the way a room does when people peel off to do small, important things.
Carrie stood and rolled her shoulders to loosen the tight knot between her shoulder blades.
She could still taste the metallic edge of fear in her mouth, but beneath it, something steadier had begun to rise.
A plan. Steps. Tasks. She could manage those.
Alisha came back with Maggie and Cody and an avalanche of dog paws at their heels.
The children had changed into dry clothes and were rosy with the ordinary excitement of movement and the promise of milkshakes.
Behind them, Trent returned, holding a kitchen towel in one hand.
The blade it hid was small and dark. He kept his body between it and the kids without drawing attention to it.
“All right,” he said, voice calm. “Ian, show me where to look.”
Ian nodded and stepped forward. As he passed Carrie, his shoulder brushed hers. It was nothing, a simple bump in a crowded room. Yet in that instant, she felt the whisper of paper against her palm, the weight of something small and folded. He murmured a quick apology and kept moving.
“That’s fine,” Carrie said, tucking whatever it was into her pocket without looking down. It felt thin, like a note. She did not open her hand. Not here. Not with Maggie watching and Cody already bouncing on his toes at the word milkshake.
Matt lifted his chin toward the door. “Let’s go,” he said to Alisha, Carrie, Andy, and the kids. “We have power at my place. The freezer won’t save anything for long. There is a lot of ice cream we need to rescue.”
Cody whooped. Maggie scooped up both dog collars and laughed when the dogs dragged her two steps toward the hall. Alisha shook her head, grateful and tired at once, and followed the children out. Andy caught up with them, then paused to glance back into the living room.
“We’ll meet the dinghy at the dock,” he said. “I’ll come back for you, Ian.” His gaze flicked to Trent. “Forty-five minutes?”
“Forty-five minutes,” Trent said with a nod of acknowledgment.
Carrie lingered in the doorway long enough to watch Ian and Trent head for the stairs. The sight of them together tightened something in her chest that she could not name. Trust at odds with fear. Hope at odds with history. She shook it away and stepped onto the porch.