Chapter Twenty-Two
The rain didn’t wash the blood away. Asa’s flashlight beam caught traces of it.
He crouched near the edge of the tree line, fingers hovering inches from the ground, his breath fogging in the cold as he studied the trail. Drops. Smears. A partial boot print dragged sideways. “He’s injured and favoring his left side.” But still dangerous.
“He’s bleeding bad,” Rachel said behind him.
“Yes,” Asa whispered.
Will stood a few steps back, radio pressed to his shoulder. “I’ve got a trail heading north-northeast,” he said into the mic. “Toward the old lighthouse. Advise perimeter units to tighten up. He’s wounded but mobile.”
Static crackled. A response came back immediately. “Copy that. Units converging.”
The lighthouse. The words landed like a blow to the chest.
Asa straightened slowly, rain soaking into his jacket, the weight of his gun suddenly heavier in his hand. The beam of his flashlight swept forward, catching another dark stain on a rock, then another on a low-hanging branch.
Of course. The place Jonas used to take him whenever he visited the island back when Asa was a kid.
Back before the murder. Jonas loved the old lighthouse.
He talked about it with a strange mix of reverence and disdain.
The place he’d said was “quiet enough to think.” The place no one ever went anymore unless they were looking for ghosts.
Asa swallowed. He didn’t believe in coincidences. Not anymore. “Let’s move.”
They advanced carefully, spread out but tight enough to cover one another. The wind howled louder as they crested the ridge, the lighthouse rising ahead of them like a skeletal finger pointing accusingly at the sky.
The stone structure loomed against the darkness, rain slicking down its sides, windows black and empty like watching eyes. The door at the base hung slightly ajar.
Asa’s pulse spiked. “He’s inside.”
Will nodded once. “Stack up.”
Asa took point, Will to his right, Rachel, and two Hope Island Securities team members behind them. The smell hit him first as they crossed the threshold—old salt, mildew, rust.
Fresh blood. It streaked across the stone floor, leading toward the narrow staircase spiraling down.
Asa closed his eyes for half a second.
“Basement,” Rachel murmured. “That’s where it leads.”
Will’s voice turned to steel. “We go slow. He’s cornered. That makes him unpredictable.”
Asa moved down the steep, uneven stairs, each step slick with moisture and age. The flashlight beam bobbed with his breathing, catching flashes of stone walls, iron brackets, and old wiring stripped bare.
The drops of blood grew closer together.
At the bottom of the stairs, the space opened into a wide, circular chamber carved into the rock beneath the lighthouse. Asa’s boot slid to a stop as the light swept across the room.
His stomach dropped. “No,” he whispered.
Recessed alcoves lined the walls—dozens of them. Each one marked. Some with wooden plaques. Some with metal tags. Some with nothing more than a date scratched into stone.
Candles burned down to waxy stumps sat beneath many of them. There were photographs. Not of faces, but of shoes, bracelets, a scarf, a cracked phone, a necklace with a tiny cross.
A virtual graveyard filled with many more victims than they even know about.
Rachel sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t believe it.”
Asa couldn’t move.
This wasn’t a hiding place.
This was a shrine.
“Welcome,” Jonas’s voice echoed from the far side of the chamber.
Asa spun, gun snapping up.
Jonas stood near a steel worktable bolted to the stone floor, one hand braced against it, the other slick with blood. His face was pale now, lips drawn tight. But his eyes. They were alive. “You always did follow through,” Jonas said almost proudly, his breath hitching. “Just like your father.”
“Drop the weapon,” Will commanded, stepping into view. “Now.”
Jonas chuckled weakly. “You think I’m getting out of here?” His gaze slid back to Asa. “This was never about escape.”
Asa’s voice came out rough. “You killed them all.”
Jonas tilted his head. “I collected them.”
Rage surged so fast that Asa nearly lost control. “You murdered women,” Asa snarled. “You hunted them.”
“Wrong. I watched them,” Jonas shot back. “There’s a difference. They were already invisible. I just . . . finished the job the world started.” His hand swept toward his shrines. “I made them immortal and important.”
Asa took a step forward.
Will’s hand brushed his arm. A warning.
Jonas’s bright eyes flicked to the alcoves behind Asa. “You see it now, don’t you? The pattern Raymond wouldn’t let go of. The one that cost him his life.”
Asa’s chest burned. “You killed him.”
Jonas’s mouth twisted. “I loved him.”
“Then why—”
“Because he figured out it was me,” Jonas snapped. His control cracked for the first time. “He wouldn’t let it go until he found the truth.”
Asa froze.
Jonas laughed softly, then winced, blood seeping faster now.
“Vanessa led him to me. He brought her here. I found her and Maya. I dragged Vanessa out of the barn and killed her. Then I went back to warn Maya to keep her mouth shut, but Raymond showed up and caught me. I couldn’t hide.
The truth was out. I had to kill him.” He shook his head.
“Then you showed up. I would have killed you if you’d seen my face.
I did my best to disguise my voice for you, and I guess it worked because you never suspected it was me. ”
Asa winced. The truth was finally out. Instead of feeling relieved, he felt numb. “Where is Vanessa?” He owed it to Maya to find out the truth.
Jonas’s eyes locked onto his. “Right here.”
Asa’s flashlight beam shook as it swept the alcoves again. Then he saw it.
A small silver locket.
Heart-shaped.
Broken at the hinge.
In an instant, something inside him broke open.
Jonas smiled. “She fought. I’ll give her that.” He lunged away from the worktable and straight for Asa in a single bound.
The gunshot was a reflex. Asa didn’t remember deciding. Didn’t remember aiming. Only the recoil, the flash, the way Jonas jerked backward with a sharp cry.
The bullet hit him high in the thigh. Jonas collapsed against the wall, sliding down hard, blood pooling beneath him.
Rachel moved instantly, the weapon still trained. “He’s down!”
Will stepped forward, kicking the gun out of Jonas’s reach. “Hands where I can see them.”
Jonas laughed weakly, head tipping back against the stone. “You finally did it.” He gave a single nod in Asa’s direction. “You finally know the truth.”
Asa approached slowly, gun still raised, his chest heaving.
Jonas’s smile faded. For the first time, something like fear flickered through his eyes.
Sirens wailed above them. Backup had arrived.
Asa lowered the gun only when Will nodded.
“Get him stabilized,” Will ordered. “He goes to the hospital under guard.”
JT and Declan moved in, cuffs snapping shut, tourniquet applied. Jonas hissed in pain, but he didn’t put up a fight.
As they hauled him to his feet, his uncle leaned close enough for Asa to hear. “I tried to do right by you, but you wouldn’t let it go.”
Asa leaned in just as close. “That’s because the truth doesn’t stay buried,” he said. “Not forever.”
Jonas was taken away, his footsteps fading up the stairs. Silence rushed in.
Asa turned back to the alcoves. To Vanessa. His hands shook now. “She’s dead,” he said under his breath. “I have to tell Maya.”
Will stepped beside him. “We’ll bring Maya in later. Not tonight. Not until you’re ready.”
Asa nodded, his throat tight. He headed to the alcove and knelt, fingers hovering over the locket but not touching it. “I’m sorry,” he whispered to Vanessa and to the little girl who had survived that night at the barn.
Behind him, the lighthouse groaned as the storm pressed in. The truth was out now, and Asa would carry it. For Maya. For his father.
For every name carved into stone.