Chapter 39
CHAPTER 39
WILLA
A fter the jubilant chaos of the regatta, the relative silence of the Sutter’s Ferry cemetery was a welcome reprieve. This late in the day, I could feel the beta blocker starting to wear off, and I regretted not listening to Gabi and keeping a second dose on me, just in case. Exhaustion dragged at me, and I wondered how I was going to get through the parade and the float judging after. I just had to ride on the founders’ float and wave a little. I could probably do that without issue. Then maybe I could come up with an excuse to skip the judging. I wouldn’t have to fake not feeling well. A low-grade headache was sinking its claws into the base of my skull. I barely heard the commemorative words offered up by the head of the historical society.
Someone edged closer and murmured, “Are you okay?”
I glanced up to find Roland watching me with concern. I hadn’t realized he’d joined the delegation for this part of proceedings, but it didn’t surprise me. Despite not being from one of the founding families, he’d always taken an active role in the community. It was a big part of why Granddaddy had hired him.
“Just a headache. Today has been a lot,” I whispered.
“Yeah, Miles is good at that,” he muttered, tugging at his tie. He’d put on a suit jacket for the ceremony, and I was impressed with his dedication to formality. It was too damned hot for that many layers.
I held in a snort of laughter and turned my attention back to the proceedings as each of us representing a founding family walked to our ancestral crypt to leave a wreath. Because our forebears had come from the sea and been sustained by it, each one was created from elements that honored that tradition. Mine was made of a large curve of driftwood, twined with magnolia leaves and Queen Anne’s lace, accented with seashells and starfish. At the base was a bow using the same shades of ivory and navy as the ferry company that had kept the island going all these years. I held onto it and waited my turn as the last of the founding families. Some of my compatriots made remarks. I elected to take a moment of silence as I stepped up to the marble tomb and gently laid the wreath in the designated holder.
In general, I didn’t just come here. I had no real reason to. As a child, I’d come once a year with my grandparents to do maintenance around the tomb, cleaning up and planting fresh flowers, while they told me stories of my forebears. But I’d never really felt connected. My grandparents’ remains weren’t interred here. Their ashes had been scattered according to their wishes. But something about today felt different. Maybe it was the weight of the family mantle now resting on my shoulders.
I laid my hand flat against the sun-warmed stone and closed my eyes.
I’ll do my best to honor your legacy. To protect what you gave us. To be worthy of the name Sutter.
When I stepped back, Miles launched in with his own over-the-top remarks about looking to the future while honoring the past. I didn’t miss the satisfied look he exchanged with Anthony Strand, who, so far as I was concerned, had no reason to be here. He wasn’t from Hatterwick. It had been clear from every interaction with the man that he only saw the island as a payday, one that would destroy everything that made Hatterwick unique. The sooner I could get away from that guy, the better.
As the ceremony wrapped, and the small crowd began to head back to their vehicles, I tried to find some enthusiasm for the remaining events of the day. Or even enough to make myself get back into the bigass Suburban with the other found family members. But that meant more of Miles and his sanctimonious nonsense.
Roland followed my gaze. “You want to ride back with me? You’ve got the parade next, right? I’ve got a pass to park near the staging area.”
The sense of relief was instant. “That’d be great. Thanks.”
I followed him to his sedan, sliding into the front passenger seat. My temples were really starting to throb now. I rubbed at the acupressure point between my thumb and pointer finger, trying to make it abate.
Roland cast me a sidelong glance. “Are you sure you’re up to this? You’re looking a little pale there. I could run you home right quick and make excuses to Miles and the rest of them.”
I forced a wan smile. “I appreciate the offer of an out, but I agreed to do this. I’m going to stick to my commitment. No matter how much I’d rather go crawl into a dark hole and nap. Besides, you absolutely do not have time to drive me all the way to the north end of the island and get back to stage the parade. I think we’re already going to be a little late.”
As if to punctuate the point, his phone rang. He answered on the car’s speakerphone. “This is O’Shea.”
“It’s Andy. Where are you? The natives are getting restless down here.”
“On my way back from the cemetery. I was at the wreath laying.”
“Staging was supposed to start ten minutes ago.”
“It’ll be fine. I’m not that far out.”
“I—Somebody grab those banners before they blow away! This was your job, O’Shea.”
Irritation flickered over Roland’s face. “I gave you a copy of the list with the order of the floats for just this eventuality. All you have to do is ensure they’re lined up in that order. I’ll be there as quick as I can.”
“No, no, the high school band goes after the Shriners. This is like herding a bunch of feral cats.”
“Deal with it, Andy,” Roland growled.
Pain exploded in my head, so fast and hard, my vision went white. Nausea roiled in my stomach and my head throbbed from where I’d been struck. I struggled to open my eyes to see who was speaking.
“Deal with it, Anderson.”
“Man, I didn’t sign on for this. I’m not killin’ no girl.”
“Then why the fuck didn’t you leave her where you found her instead of bringing her here?”
“I thought she’d wake up and follow us.”
“So instead you’ve created a witness and a liability.”
I managed to pry my eyes open the barest bit and spotted a tall, wiry man arguing with someone. “Why can’t they just take her, too?”
The other man gestured in my direction. “Do you have any idea who this is? No, that wasn’t the agreement. You provide the package as ordered. Nothing more, nothing less.” I could see only his back. Average build. Dark hair. Voice of authority.
“I’m still not killin’ her. I’m no murderer.”
“Take care of her, or I’ll take care of you.”
“No. I’m not?—”
In the next second, lightning flashed, and Joe Anderson slumped to the ground, blood trickling down his face from a round hole just above his vacant eyes.
The scream rose up in my chest, fighting to get out. But I had to hold it in. Had to keep them from knowing I was conscious.
The shooter lowered his gun and spoke to someone else. “Put them both on board. If you’re squeamish about getting the job done, then just get out in open water and throw her overboard. The ocean will take care of the rest. I’ve got to go deal with this bullshit.”
Rough hands grabbed me under the arms and began to drag me toward a boat.
“No. No!”
“Willa! Miss Sutter, snap out of it!”
I blinked, and the boat, the night, and the dead man were gone. Instead, I was curled into a ball, pressed against the passenger door of Roland O’Shea’s car, my chest heaving with uneven breaths.
Roland stared at me from the driver’s seat, concern written all over his face. “Willa? Are you okay?”
Terror still had me in its grip.
Because I’d just had a full-blown flashback to Joe Anderson’s murder.
Where someone had been intent on killing me, too.
Roland didn’t try to touch me again. “Panic attack?” His voice was gentle.
I managed a small nod, still too shaken to be embarrassed that I’d lost it in front of him. Again.
“Do you want to get out of the car? Do you need some fresh air? Or I can take you straight home?”
I swallowed. “S… Sawyer. F… f… find, Sawyer.”
“Okay. We’ll find him.” Moving slowly, presumably so as not to spook me, he put the car in gear and pulled out onto the road.
I lowered my pounding head to my knees and tried to control my breathing, even as I struggled to hold on to the details that were already trying to fade.
I’d seen Joe Anderson murdered, and from what it sounded like, it had been a case of wrong place, wrong time. They hadn’t been meant to take me. They’d been taking someone else. Gwen? I wouldn’t have left the party with anyone else. Someone had attacked me. Struck me from behind. Had it all been to take her? Why? Who? The man giving the orders had clearly known who I was and been angry I’d been dragged into whatever was going on. But he hadn’t cared enough to see that I lived. What did that mean? Did I know who he was? Had I been interacting with him on Hatterwick all these years, blissfully unaware and protected by my damaged memory?
I didn’t know. But clearly things were finally starting to shake loose, and I needed Sawyer to ground me before the next wave hit and I drowned under the weight of my own memories.