Chapter 9
NINE
vivienne
The bell above The Mystic Cup’s door chimed at nine-fifteen. Vivienne looked up from the ledger where she’d been recording yesterday’s inventory, expecting a customer. Instead, Dawn, her cousin, stood in the doorway, backpack slung over one shoulder, dressed in jeans and a flannel shirt.
“Dawn?” Vivienne came around the counter. “What are you doing here?”
Her cousin pulled her into a fierce hug. “You texted me three days ago saying you were helping investigate a missing person case. Then nothing. I got worried and drove down.”
“I’m sorry. Things have been hectic.” Vivienne locked the shop door and flipped the sign to closed. “Come upstairs.”
In the apartment, Dawn settled at the small table by the window while Vivienne put the kettle on.
“So. Tell me what’s happening.”
Vivienne took a breath. “The Aldriches are behind it. The missing historian, Melissa Clarkson. We found evidence yesterday that she’d been held at the hidden cove. And we found Lily Morgan’s remains in the coastal caves.”
Dawn’s voice went sharp. “The Aldriches killed Lily?”
“Winston Aldrich himself. And I think they killed my mother too.” Vivienne poured hot water over tea leaves. “Brooks—the detective—he’s starting to believe me. We’re building a case, but we need more than visions.”
“Then let me help.” Dawn leaned forward. “I can go to the town hall, research their business dealings. No one suspects a tourist asking questions about local history.”
Vivienne studied her cousin’s determined expression. “It’s dangerous.”
“I know. But Aunt Cordelia was my family too.” Dawn pulled out her phone. “I called in vacation days. I have two weeks.”
“All right. But we do this smart. No unnecessary risks.”
“Agreed. Where do I start?”
“The town hall. Property records, business filings. Anything connecting the Aldrich family to suspicious transactions.”
Dawn stood. “I’ll use Mom’s maiden name—Dawn Winters, researching coastal preservation. Give me a couple hours.”
After her cousin left, Vivienne tried focusing on shop routines, but her awareness stayed split between Dawn at the town hall and Brooks investigating wherever he was.
Shortly after noon, Dawn returned carrying manila folders stuffed with documents. She caught Vivienne’s eye and shook her head slightly.
Wait.
After the last customer left, Vivienne locked the door. Dawn spread documents across the counter.
“Shell companies.” Dawn’s voice went grim. “All connected to the Aldrich family. Coastal Holdings LLC, Maritime Properties Inc., Harbor Development Group—registered to Winston Aldrich’s law office.”
Vivienne studied the highlighted sections, her finger tracing dates. “Look when these transactions happened.”
“I checked against newspaper archives.” Dawn pulled out another folder. “Every time someone vanished from Westerly Cove, the Aldriches gained property. Lily Morgan disappeared October 31st, 1999. On November 2nd, Coastal Holdings purchased her family’s waterfront lot for a fraction of its value.”
“So they’re taking advantage of others emotional state,” Vivienne shook her head. “My mom died in March. Is that when grandma had her sudden tax issue?”
Dawn nodded. “That June, Harbor Development Group acquired the old Hawthorne maritime warehouse.” Dawn’s voice softened. “I’m sorry, Vi.”
“This is the pattern we needed.” Vivienne gathered the documents carefully. “Goes back to the 1920s? Same pattern every time. This is organized elimination of anyone who threatens their interests.”
“I can contact the state police through the park service,” Dawn said. “I know people who would listen.” She nodded toward the folder. “Give that to your detective. I have more copies.”
Vivienne nodded. “Not yet. Property transfers after disappearances look suspicious, but a lawyer could argue coincidence. We need more.”
“Damn the courtroom! I won’t lose you like we lost Aunt Cordelia.” Dawn’s voice cracked. “I don’t want to lose you now that you’re back. I like having you so close.”
Vivienne took her cousin’s hands. “I’m not alone. I have Brooks. I have you. And this time, we’re building a case that will stand up in court.”
Dawn sighed. “Fine. But the moment this gets too dangerous, I’m calling reinforcements whether you like it or not.”
“Agreed.”
“So what’s next?”
“Brooks is meeting with Chief Sullivan this afternoon. They’re planning an official search of the lighthouse—make it look routine so the Aldriches don’t realize how close we’re getting.” Vivienne checked her watch. “He should be here soon. We’re scouting the location first.”
“I’m coming.”
“No.” Vivienne’s voice was firm. “If something goes wrong, someone needs to know what we found. Someone who can get this evidence to people who can act on it.”
Dawn’s jaw set stubbornly. “I don’t like it.”
“Stay here. If you don’t hear from me by five o’clock, call everyone. Park service, state police, FBI. Make copies of everything.”
“And if you do check in?”
“Then we keep building the case. This is what my mother died trying to do. I’m sure of it. What Lily died trying to do. We’re going to finish it.”
Through the window, she saw Brooks’s car pull up.
“That’s him.” Vivienne grabbed her bag, checking for her compass, the vial of cove water, the other tools she might need. “I’ll call every hour.”
“Be careful.” Dawn pulled her into a quick embrace.
“I know. That’s why we’re going to stop them.”
She slid into Brooks’s passenger seat. He glanced at the manila folder she carried.
“What’s that?”
“Evidence. My cousin Dawn drove down from the state park. She spent the morning researching the Aldrich family’s business dealings.” Vivienne opened the folder, showing him the highlighted property transfers. “Every disappearance in Westerly Cove corresponds to the Aldriches acquiring property.”
Brooks studied the documents at the next red light. His expression hardened. “This is good work. Can I keep these?”
“Dawn made copies and has the originals somewhere safe.”
“Smart.” He handed them back as the light changed.
Outside, the sky darkened as they drove the coastal road. The barometer dropped; Vivienne felt it in her sinuses. Already the waves struck the shore with greater force.
“Storm coming.”
“The forecast mentioned nothing.”
“The ocean knows before the meteorologists.”
The lighthouse grew larger through the windshield, its white paint stark against darkening sky. Pressure built behind her eyes—her abilities responding to violence that had soaked into this ground.
Brooks parked near the keeper’s cottage. Wind off the ocean carried the scent of coming rain.
As they rounded the final bend toward the cottage, wind carried voices to them—male, authoritative. Vivienne gestured for Brooks to stop, pressing herself against rough stone. He moved beside her, his body angling to shield her.
They positioned themselves where the cottage wall formed a shallow sound chamber.
The voices became clearer.
“. . . must be sealed properly this time.” Mayor Winston Aldrich’s patrician tones carried immediate authority. “Sullivan scheduled an official search for four o’clock. Nothing can remain accessible.”
“The stone mechanism is already disabled.” A second voice—Jeremy Aldrich. “But what about the artifacts?”
“Just the ledgers and the most recent shipment.” A pause. “What about the woman?”
“Secured at the secondary location.”
Vivienne’s breath caught. Brooks’s hand found hers, pressing gently—a warning to stay silent.
“Good. After the storm passes and Sullivan conducts his pointless search, we’ll handle her the same way we handled the Morgan girl.”
Ice shot through Vivienne’s veins. Brooks’s grip tightened.
“What about that psychic? The Hawthorne woman keeps asking questions.”
“Let her ask. Without evidence, she’s just another eccentric making wild claims. Besides, we know how to handle Hawthorne women who become too curious. Her mother learned that lesson.” Winston’s laugh went cold.
Vivienne’s body went rigid. Brooks pulled her closer, his arm around her shoulders, anchoring her as rage and grief threatened to overwhelm her control.
The voices faded as the Aldriches moved away. Brooks waited a full minute before speaking.
“Are you all right?”
“They killed my mother.” Her voice barely rose above a whisper. “I knew she didn’t take her own life.”
“I’m sorry. We’ll make them answer for all of it. Lily, your mother, and Melissa if we can reach her in time.”
Vivienne nodded, channeling grief into determination. “The secondary location. Where?”
“Somewhere connected to the tunnels but separate from here.” Brooks studied the map Chief Sullivan had provided. “There—the hidden cove. Only other access point marked.”
“Then that’s where we go. But first we find the entrance.”
Brooks nodded toward the small building adjacent to the tower. “If there’s a basement entrance, it’ll be inside.”
They waited until the Aldriches’ footsteps faded, then approached cautiously.
The cottage door stood unlocked. Arrogance or haste would be the Aldriches undoing.
Inside, it was sparse and musty. Brooks went to the door across the space.
Vivienne was about to tell him it was nothing but a closet until he moved some boxes aside and showed her a staircase.
“We can thank Mathilde for her excellent architectural skills.”
Vivienne would be sure to do that.
They descended into darkness. Temperature dropping with each step. The basement extended beneath both tower and cottage. The main chamber housed original cisterns and fuel storage.
“According to Lily’s diagram, the entrance should be on the eastern wall. Behind that storage rack.”
Vivienne noticed recent scuff marks. Someone had dragged something heavy recently.
Together they shifted the rack, revealing stonework identical to the surrounding wall. But Vivienne saw differences in the mortar lines. One stone—third from the corner, exactly as Lily had documented—bore a small depression.