Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
ELEVEN YEARS AGO
Josie
The phone slips from my hands and clatters across the floor.
“Josie?” Mom’s voice drifts in from somewhere far away. “Josie, what’s the matter?”
I lunge for the phone and press it to my ear again. I must have heard wrong. “What did you say?”
“Christopher Langley, Ian’s dad. They found him floating face down in the water near his dock. He was all alone and he’d been drinking. They think he slipped, hit his head on the piling, and fell in the water.”
“No,” I say. “He can’t be.”
“It’s true,” Alice insists. “Josie, he’s dead.”
Is this a joke? Is someone pranking me? Because Christopher wasn’t alone on the dock. I was with him. Is it possible that when I pushed him, he hit his head?
“How do you know all this?” I demand, gripping the phone tighter. This could be nothing but speculation. People on this island like to talk.
“About an hour ago, a million sirens went racing down Harbor Boulevard,” Alice reports.
“We all heard them go by, even inside the restaurant, and a bunch of us went out to look. Police cars, an ambulance, even a fire truck, sirens wailing and lights flashing. Everyone was talking about it and speculating about where they were going. And then a few minutes later, people started getting texts that the neighbors up in Harbor Heights saw them pull into the Langleys’ driveway. ”
I shake my head in denial. Maybe the first responders went to a different house in Harbor Heights, and someone spotted them near the Langleys’ and made assumptions.
Rumors on this island can spread like a bad game of telephone.
The news starts out one way, but as people quickly forward it on to their friends and family, adding their own commentary, it morphs into something entirely different.
Or maybe the rescue workers did go to the Langleys’. Maybe after I left, Christopher had a few too many cocktails… or chest pains or… it could be anything. Maybe they even took him to the hospital but…
“How do you know he’s dead?” My gaze flies to Mom’s, and she’s staring at me with wide eyes.
“You know Allen, the bartender who works on Saturdays? His brother is on the police force and was one of the officers to respond. Allen’s brother texted and told him.
And then some of the clients at the club started getting phone calls and whispering about it.
Apparently, Hugh Williams, who lives down the road from the Langleys, walked over to see if he could help, and he says he saw them wheeling Christopher’s body out on a stretcher.
I heard that Hugh said they weren’t in any kind of hurry because he was already… ” She pauses. “You know.”
I take a deep breath, but I can’t seem to draw air into my lungs. Reaching out, I fumble for the back of a chair to hold me upright because otherwise, my legs might give out. “Dead,” I repeat. My voice flat and emotionless.
He hit his head and fell in the water.
I close my eyes, remembering the terror, the desperation, the pain rattling through me as I drove my shoulder into Christopher’s chest with a strength I didn’t know I possessed.
Did he hit his head as he fell? I scan my memory, but I can’t quite form a clear picture as my brain fights to keep the pain and trauma buried.
All I can recall is that I shoved Christopher and he pitched sideways near the edge of the dock. I heard a splash and thought I saw him fall in the water, but then I took off running like my life depended on it, and I didn’t look back.
Did I kill Christopher Langley?
“Josie, are you there?” Alice’s voice cuts in.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice shaking. “I’m here.”
“I’m at the club, and like, nobody is even getting any work done. We’re all just milling around talking about Christopher. Even Susan.”
“So, they think it was an accident?” I whisper.
“I’m sure they’ll investigate more. I mean, he’s the richest man on the island.
Maybe in the whole state. Allen’s brother says they’ll do an autopsy and stuff.
But the rumor is that there’s no evidence of foul play.
” She lowers her voice. “Everyone knows Mrs. Langley has a drinking problem, but now they’re saying that Christopher must have been an alcoholic, too.
He liked his cocktails, that’s for sure, but I personally never saw him order more than a couple. Did you?”
“No,” I say flatly.
“Well, maybe he liked to drink alone at home.”
My mind whirls. He wasn’t alone. Is there any evidence I was there?
“Can you believe it?” Alice asks.
“No,” I manage to choke out. “This is… wild…”
I hear voices in the background. “Listen,” Alice whispers. “Susan is saying I need to get back to work. But I’ll text you updates as soon as I hear anything else.”
“Yes,” I say, trying to keep my voice as even as possible. “I want to hear everything.”
“Poor Ian, right?” Alice says.
Oh God. Ian. Dazed, I hang up and sink on the couch cushions.
Does Ian know about his dad yet? He might still be in Cape May.
But if the officer on the scene had time to share the news with his own brother, then he probably informed the family already.
Otherwise, that must be a breach of confidentiality.
My heart aches for Ian, and some wild, irrational part of me wants to go to him, to comfort him.
But I can’t. Because this is my fault.
“Josie, what’s going on?” Mom demands, her face creased with worry.
I stare at her, barely able to form the words. “Christopher Langley…” I whisper. “He’s dead.”
Mom freezes. “What did you say?”
“That was Alice, my friend from the club. She said he hit his head and fell in the water. They found him there, floating face-down by his dock.” My voice breaks. “He’s dead.”
Mom’s mouth drops open but the only sound that comes out is a choked gasp.
I stare at her in horror. “I killed him, didn’t I?”