Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
I t was two days since the incident at the beach. After a long and lackluster drive across the island, scouting for some sign of Nathan’s sister and the other missing girls, Nathan and Scarlet were at the coffee shop. It was the same coffee shop where Scarlet had first spotted the hippie-dressed girls all those months ago. Nathan and Scarlet nibbled on blueberry croissants and watched the door quietly, almost as though they expected the girls to return and explain everything. A heaviness pressed across Scarlet’s shoulders. She wasn’t sure where to turn.
Nathan opened his laptop and scrolled through Reddit for additional information about the group. But it seemed like any information that popped up was immediately scrubbed a few minutes later. They’re doing everything they can to make sure they’re not found.
Scarlet wondered if Nathan regretted coming to Nantucket Island. It felt as though they’d hit a brick wall.
Scarlet opened her own laptop, connected to the internet, and watched some of the footage Nathan had taken the other night. It was truly sensational stuff.
“It looks totally like a cult through the lens of this video,” she breathed to Nathan.
“It looks totally like a cult, period,” Nathan said.
Scarlet’s stomach tied itself into knots. We’re in over our heads.
Just then, there was a switch-over between shifts for the baristas. The young woman who’d been working the day Scarlet had seen the hippie girls entered with a tote bag slung over her shoulder. She frantically chewed a bright blue piece of gum and said to her coworker, “Josiah is such an idiot. ”
Scarlet straightened her spine. Nathan gave her a curious look.
“We should interview her,” Scarlet said. “She was here the day I was here. Maybe she’s seen more of them?”
Nathan bobbed his head and got his camera out of his bag. Without talking about it, they both knew to wait to approach her until the other staff member left and the rest of the coffee shop was clear. Because it was a crystal-clear eighty-degree day, it didn’t take long. Nobody wanted to be inside.
Nathan and Scarlet went up to the counter. Scarlet sensed how serious her smile was. The barista gave them a look that meant what do you want?
“Hey,” Scarlet began, “we’re working on a project. Would you be interested in helping?”
The barista shrugged. Scarlet spent a minute bumbling through her description of the hippie girls and asked, “Can you remember more times they came in here?”
Nathan was rolling. The barista stared into the camera lens and chewed her gum. How old was she? Probably twenty-one or twenty-two? Probably the same age as most of the girls in that group?
Maybe her friends had been impacted.
“I guess I saw them?” the barista said. “But it’s not a crime to, like, dress up.”
Scarlet’s heartbeat felt syncopated. “Did you get the sense that the girls were doing anything against their will?”
“No? I don’t know. But it’s not like people tell me everything on their mind when they come in here. And we get crazy busy.”
“When was the last time they came in?” Scarlet asked. She was beginning to think this was another dead end.
“It must have been two weeks ago,” the barista said. “It’s always the same. The men wait outside, and the women get all the stuff and take it out to them. I thought maybe it was like a church. But you know, it’s a free country. People practice all kinds of religions here.”
Scarlet found it difficult not to show how disappointed she was.
But then it occurred to her.
This young woman had to work a summer job. She probably worked forty hours a week or more behind this very counter. It meant she didn’t fit the mold of those other young women. Her parents don’t have wealth. Maybe her friends don’t, either.
She doesn’t know anything else.
“Thanks for answering our questions,” Scarlet said. “Have a great rest of your day.”
Scarlet packed her stuff so quickly that Nathan had to scramble to keep up with her. They went outside. Scarlet collapsed into the driver’s seat and pressed her forehead against her steering wheel. From the passenger seat, Nathan reached over and touched her shoulder.
“It’s still early,” he said softly.
“I’m just worried about them,” Scarlet said.
She still wanted to go to the police. Nathan still refused.
“I don’t want to miss our window,” Scarlet said.
Nathan bowed his head. The air was taut.
That was when Scarlet got the idea to interview a ferry dock worker. She turned the key in the ignition and shot them out of the parking lot and back toward the harbor. Nathan thought it was a great idea.
“I’m sure they’ve seen them coming and going,” he said, speaking quickly as he set up the camera again.
It took a little bit of probing at the docks, but they found someone willing and eager to talk about ten minutes into their search. The dock worker was in his sixties and was inexplicably missing an ear—a non-ferry-boat accident, he explained early on in the interview. It was clear he was tickled pink to be on camera.
“That’s right,” the dock worker said. “They came out in July or so. Must have been six weeks ago. A bunch of young women in long dresses and men in black shirts and pants.”
“How many of them?” Scarlet asked.
“Maybe twenty women, twenty guys.”
Scarlet looked at Nathan and thought, They’ve added more since then.
“Did you talk to them at all?” Scarlet asked.
The dock worker gave her a brash smile. “Sure did. It’s not strange for me to talk to tourists. It’s part of the reason I like the job so much. I asked them what they were up to in Nantucket. One of the guys looked at me like I was scum. Nobody was willing to answer anything real. The women were kind, but it was almost as though the guys were making sure they weren’t talking much.”
“Did you get the sense they weren’t there of their own free will?” Scarlet asked.
“Not exactly, no.” The dock worker removed a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed his forehead. “I got the sense they weren’t exactly thinking for themselves, but that isn’t the same thing.”
Scarlet searched her mind for another question, something else to enliven the interview. But the dock worker was already talking about other tourists he’d seen that summer—a man dressed in a lobster costume and a married couple who’d nearly thrown one another overboard.
“You see crazy stuff on this job,” he said. “I’m the one to talk to about all that.”
Scarlet thanked him and told Nathan to cut.
Back in Scarlet’s car, they watched the footage and agreed it was pretty good although it offered no additional details.
It was nearly five thirty in the afternoon. Scarlet’s stomach was empty and aching.
As though she’d sensed it, Grandma Greta sent a nudge of affection and an invitation for dinner. Scarlet pitched the idea to Nathan, who agreed wholeheartedly. It would be nice to get out of their heads for the night.
Scarlet parked in front of The Copperfield House and led Nathan into the kitchen, where Greta sliced onions and garlic and listened to classical music. Scarlet’s eyes filled with tears—maybe because of the onions or perhaps because of how normal the scene was. Greta kissed her and said, “Welcome! Grab yourself a drink from the fridge if you’d like.”
Scarlet and Nathan poured themselves sparkling lemonade and chatted to Greta for a little while about her day. Greta was giddy about a “breakthrough” she’d had in her novel.
Not long after that, Ivy and Quentin arrived. Ivy carried an apple pie they’d purchased from a farmers’ market downtown. She set it gingerly on the counter.
Scarlet studied Ivy’s face. Something was off about it. Sour. Maybe she got into a fight with her boyfriend. Perhaps she’s still brokenhearted about having to go back to university.
Nathan tugged Scarlet’s elbow and whispered in her ear. “Let’s interview your sister before dinner.”
Scarlet cocked her head with surprise. This was her project, and she hadn’t wanted anyone in her family to know about it yet.
But Nathan pushed it. “She’s the same age as the others. Maybe she’s heard something?”
Scarlet heaved a sigh and slapped her hands across her thighs. Nathan was right.
“Ivy? Can you help us with something outside?” she asked.
Quentin and Greta were busy chatting about Bernard’s new medication and what the doctor had said about how often to take it. It didn’t sound serious; just another routine pill required when you got a little bit older.
The conversation meant they didn’t notice Nathan, Ivy, and Scarlet slip out the door.
Nathan grabbed the camera as Scarlet selected choice words for Ivy. She didn’t want to tell Ivy absolutely everything. Not yet.
“A few girls around your age have left college recently,” Scarlet began. “They’ve all joined this big group here in Nantucket.” She was careful not to use the word “cult.”
Ivy blinked dully at Scarlet. It was as though she hardly heard her.
“Have you heard anything about that? Like, is there any gossip going around?” Scarlet asked.
Nathan was already filming behind her. Ivy furrowed her brow.
“What’s that?” she demanded.
“We’re making a documentary,” Scarlet said. “His little sister disappeared with this group, and we’re trying to figure out why. What do they want? Will they ever leave? That kind of thing.”
Ivy’s nose twitched. A moment of silence passed. “I don’t know anything about that.”
Something tugged at Scarlet’s consciousness. “But you went to high school with some of them,” she said. “Haven’t you seen anything on social media? Aren’t people talking about it?”
Ivy shrugged. “Honestly, it isn’t my business what people do with their time.”
Scarlet was taken aback.
Then again, Ivy sounded much more sophisticated and adult than ever.
“Social media has rotted all of our minds,” Ivy said. “It makes us think we’re privy to information about each other’s lives, even when people want to be private. Privacy is no longer respected. It’s deemed strange. But it’s a basic human right!”
Scarlet glanced back at Nathan, who continued to roll the camera. She slid her hand over her neck to cut. He did and grimaced.
“I’m sorry,” Scarlet stuttered. “You’re right.”
Ivy swept her fingers through her long, glossy hair. She gave Scarlet a look Scarlet couldn’t understand. “I have to get going,” she said.
Scarlet felt it like a knife in her belly. “I’m really sorry, Ivy. I didn’t mean to make you angry.”
“It’s whatever. I have plans anyway.”
“With your boyfriend?” Scarlet asked.
Ivy nodded. “Yeah.” She traipsed away from The Copperfield House and headed back toward the Nantucket Historic District.
Scarlet and Nathan remained on the lush grass outside of The Copperfield House. They watched her, confusion etched across their faces.