Chapter Thirty-Eight
Now
It wasn’t long before Trevor and Chelsea came looking.
They’d just started down the trail toward the Barn when they heard the gunshot, worried that something was wrong when none of us showed up to dinner. After that, they ran. Chelsea, back to the mess hall, to get the sheriff. Trevor, toward us. Toward me.
It was only minutes before they plowed their way down the path.
The streams of light were twisting erratically through the darkness.
I could just make out Sheriff Ramon’s badge, illuminated by the glow of the moon, now peeking through the clouds again.
The rain had finally slowed. The storm was over before it began.
“Over here,” I called.
In a different world, it would have been Stephanie Bennett leading the charge tonight.
Calling the shots. Her natural instincts to lead, to be listened to.
Or my mother, perhaps. Anita Olsen, whose very heart lived and beat for this place.
Who would have done anything for the people she cared about.
But they were both gone now, so the role fell to me. I took it in stride—the very last thing I had left to give either of them.
“You need to call in for more help,” I said into the night, my voice carrying through the trees. “There’s a body here.”
—
As they exhumed Winona Hayes’s body, it finally sunk in. The sinister, long-buried truth of Dread’s Cove. Both Stephanie Bennett and her mother had their lives cut short, brutally and suddenly, by people they thought they could trust.
Chelsea was absolutely wild, the way she cried and moaned over her dad’s limp body in the grass. Her banshee screams had echoed across the lake, even as the paramedics assured her he’d be fine, that it was only a concussion.
In the end, Margo Pierce wasn’t a killer. She’d hit Rig hard enough to knock him out but not enough to do any lasting damage. He would make a full recovery, except for a nasty gash on the back of his head that would need stitches.
Rig turned himself over to the sheriff as soon as he came to. He told him that he had information on the disappearance of Winona Hayes, that he had a hand in her death, in the concealment of her body for nearly thirty years. He said he was finally ready to take responsibility.
Wes didn’t turn himself over, but he didn’t have to. Margo and I did it for him.
There was a pit in my stomach as I watched them both leave that night in the ambulances—Wes with police escort.
I’d always seen the similarities between them.
Tonight, all I could see were the differences.
Rig had made a million mistakes; his silence had eaten him away from the inside out.
But his heart, his humanity, was salvageable from beneath the wreckage and ruin.
I didn’t know how long it would take me to be able to forgive him.
But I knew, someday, I would. And I knew that he would forgive me, too.
Wes had never been a good guy. That would haunt me, always.
Knowing what he was, what he’d done, and how close we’d all been to him.
Knowing that I’d slept beside him, loved him.
Trusted him completely. Believed in his inherent goodness, and selflessness.
All weekend, his friendship had felt like one of the only real things I had left. But even that had been a lie.
The very worst thing was knowing that my mother had kept so many secrets from me. Secrets I’d never be able to ask her about. But I’d kept my share of secrets, too; from her, and from everyone. Secrets I no longer wanted to be chained to. And secrets I no longer had to bear alone.
I’d made plenty of mistakes. I’d hurt the people I loved. Every last one. I’d been immeasurably selfish. Tonight, though, I’d finally owned up to some of them. And for the first time in so long, I was proud of myself. Proud to be an Olsen, of the legacy I was contributing to.
For the first time in years, I felt like maybe I deserved it.
I watched from a distance as they strapped Margo onto a gurney. Trevor had gone to get me a bottle of water, and I stood just at the edges of the chaos, leaning against Sheriff Ramon’s cruiser.
“Miss Greer?”
I froze. I hadn’t been called that in five years.
Steeling myself with a deep breath, I forced myself to look at Kendall.
She looked pale and scared, but I was once again shocked by how old she’d gotten since I’d last seen her.
Tonight, she was wearing a pink silk dress and gold hoops, her hair slicked back into a sleek ponytail.
There were mascara streaks under her eyes like she’d been crying.
Seeing her this way made my chest ache, and my old protective senses kicked in. “Kendall, are you okay?”
We hadn’t spoken all weekend. I’d assumed she hated me. I’d never fulfilled my promise—I’d never written her a single letter.
Her lip quivered, and I reached for her, wrapping my clammy hand around her wrist. It was like the dam broke then, and she leaned forward, crying onto my shoulder. She blubbered something, but I couldn’t understand. Finally, I made out the two words she was repeating: I’m sorry.
Puzzled, I pulled back from her, keeping my hands on her shoulders so she couldn’t disappear. “Why are you sorry? What happened?”
She rubbed the heel of her hand against her eye, smearing more black makeup down her face. “I should have told you. I know who’s been breaking into your cabin.”
I’d almost forgotten, in the chaos of the last hour, that Wes had denied the graffiti on Black Bass, sneaking into the cabin. In the moment, I hadn’t had time to fully process it. But it wouldn’t have made sense, would it? He hadn’t been trying to push me away at all.
He wanted, more than anything, for me to stay. He’d been willing to kill for it.
I suppressed a shiver and made myself focus on Kendall. Her face was wracked with guilt. In the back of my brain, I wondered if I should be angry at her. But I was too numb to process any more surprises from the people I cared about.
“It’s okay. You had every right to be mad at me. I broke my promise. I’m so, so sorry.”
Confusion clouded her features. “I don’t—” Her mouth popped open. “Oh my gosh, no, it wasn’t me. I never would have done that to you. No, it was Carter Banks.”
It took my brain several seconds to catch up. To place the name. “Carter Banks? Was he—”
“One of the boys who got lost in the woods,” she finished for me. “He was looking for the Phantom and got stuck in the thunderstorm. Your mom sent him home the next day.”
The memories came rushing back. That awful, rain-soaked night—searching in the dark, hoping beyond hope that we wouldn’t find something terrible.
Not unlike tonight.
“Wait, what do you mean? He’s…” I couldn’t finish the sentence. I had no idea what had become of Carter Banks.
Kendall bit her lip. “Getting kicked out of Dread’s Cove was sort of a last straw for Carter’s parents.
They sent him to boarding school after that.
It was hell, apparently. He blamed your mom for all of it.
He blamed…all of you, really. So, when he heard about the Cove reopening, he got a ticket, and he wanted to come here and…
mess with you guys. See what he could get away with. ”
“I didn’t realize you kept in contact with him all these years.”
Her eyes went wide. “No, I didn’t. I only came back because I was curious, like everyone.
I wanted to see what you’d done with the place.
That summer was hard, but—there were good memories, too.
A lot of them. Thanks to you. I sat next to him the first night, at dinner.
Just by coincidence.” Her voice dropped into a whisper.
“He had a flask with him, and he got drunk fast. Before dessert even came out. That’s when he told me about his plan—he was going to try to scare you and Chelsea.
Make you think that the Phantom was back. ”
She took a labored breath. “He’s the one who broke into your cabin and spray-painted Black Bass.
I wanted to tell you, but—every time I saw you, it felt like the wrong time, you were so busy with everything, and…
I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to break his confidence.
Carter was a good friend to me that summer. Almost as good to me as you.”
That explained the strange looks she’d given me these past few days. It wasn’t anger or resentment at all. It was fear—concern. For me.
“I’m so, so sorry. I should have told you immediately. He’s gone, though. He disappeared when he heard the sirens.”
I threw my arms around her. “It’s okay,” I promised her, and it was. She only wailed in response. I held her for a long time, until she stopped crying.
We promised to stay in touch, for real this time, and I gave her one more bear hug before she went back to her cabin.
As I watched her go, Trevor slipped his warm hand into mine and squeezed.
I squeezed back, and for the first time in hours, I found myself smiling.
When Sheriff Ramon called me over to take my official statement, I tensed, but Trevor spoke softly into my hair.
“You’re strong. You’re safe. You can do this. ”
I nodded as tears stung the back of my eyes, and he held my hand an extra second before he let me go. “Come back soon,” he whispered.
“I will.” This time, I would.