Chapter Twenty-eight
Audrey sat at the Holbrook dining room table, hunched over her laptop, fingers drumming impatiently against the wood as she scrolled through search results. Dr. Bradley Comstock was proving to be a ghost.
“Dentists usually have a digital footprint,” she muttered. “Online reviews, conference bios, something.”
Maggie, across from her with her morning tea, smirked. “The less you find, the more interesting it gets.”
There was little to go on, but one detail stuck out—a mention of a small New Hampshire town called Woodhaven, where Bradley’s parents had moved just before he was born.
“Ever heard of it?” Audrey asked.
Maggie sipped her tea and shook her head. “Nope. But there’s only one way to find out more.”
Audrey shut her laptop and sighed. “We’re going to New Hampshire, aren’t we?”
Maggie stood, stretching. “Pack a bag, sweetheart. It’s time for a Thelma and Louise road trip.”
“Let’s just not drive over any cliffs, okay?”
Maggie, to Audrey’s horror, selected one of her late husband Wes’s classic roadsters for the trip—an emerald green 1958 MG MGA. It looked more suited for a museum than the highway.
Audrey hesitated before climbing into the passenger seat. “Are you sure this thing is safe?”
Maggie scoffed. “Wes kept all his cars in pristine condition. This baby could outrun anything on the road today.”
Audrey buckled in, muttering, “Yeah, but can you drive it safely?”
Maggie shot her a look. “Audrey, the younger generation needs a stronger backbone and a sense of adventure.”
Audrey deadpanned. “You drive like Mrs. Magoo.”
Maggie grinned. “And yet, I’ve never had an accident. Hold on tight.”
With that, she threw the car into gear and gunned it out of the driveway.
By the time they hit the highway, Audrey had white-knuckled the door handle into submission.
“This isn’t NASCAR, Nana!” Audrey yelped as Maggie took a turn far too sharply.
“Relax,” Maggie said, completely unbothered. “We’re making excellent time.”
By some miracle, they arrived in Woodhaven, New Hampshire, in one piece. It was the kind of town where time had stalled sometime in the 1950s, with a single main street featuring a post office, a hardware store, and a diner with a neon sign missing a few letters.
Before they started knocking on doors, Audrey suggested they visit the local cemetery, knowing that Bradley’s parents had both passed away.
It didn’t take long to find the Comstock family plot—it was a small cluster of gravestones near an old maple tree.
ED COMSTOCK
1953–1988
A MAN WHO TRIED HIS BEST
LILY COMSTOCK-HARRINGTON
1957–2016
A MOTHER FIRST
Maggie exhaled. “She remarried.”
Audrey crouched down, running her fingers over the Harrington inscription. “If she took another last name, maybe she had other kids?”
Maggie pointed at the engraving below Lily’s name.
BELOVED MOTHER TO brADLEY
Audrey’s brows furrowed. “No mention of any other children.”
At the foot of the grave was a space left empty, as if meant for someone else’s name one day.
“Bradley’s stepfather must still be alive,” Maggie mused.
Audrey chewed her lip. “And nowhere to be found.”
“Give me time. We just got here,” Maggie said with a wink.
Back in town, they pulled into The Griddle & Grit, the kind of diner where the coffee was strong and the waitresses didn’t tolerate nonsense. Not unlike The Chowder House.
Inside, the place was pure small-town nostalgia—red vinyl booths, checkered floors, and an old man in a faded flannel perched at the counter, nursing a cup of coffee.
Maggie took a seat next to him, flashing a dazzling smile. “Mind if we join you?”
The old man nearly dropped his spoon. “Well, now! You can sit anywhere you like, darlin’. How about my lap?”
“I can already tell you’re going to be trouble.” Maggie chuckled.
“That’s what they call me. Trouble. With a capital T!”
Audrey stifled a laugh as the waitress, a battle-ax of a woman with a pencil shoved behind her ear, appeared. “What’ll it be?”
“Coffee. And a tuna melt,” Maggie said sweetly.
Audrey ordered a club sandwich and then leaned toward the old man. “You from around here?”
“Born and raised,” he said proudly. “Name’s Roy Baxter.”
Maggie turned on her charm. “Roy, we’re trying to find Lily Comstock’s family. Did you know her?”
Roy’s smile faded slightly. “Oh, yeah. I knew Lily. Nice girl. She married that poor fella Ed. Didn’t end well.”
Audrey glanced at Maggie.
Bingo.
Roy scratched his chin. “Lily’s sister, Eloise Hastings, still lives here. Out near Deer Hollow Road.”
The waitress huffed. “Eloise doesn’t get many visitors. Good luck with that.”
Maggie beamed. “I can be very persuasive.”
Roy leaned on the counter, eyeing Maggie with an approving grin. “Persuasive, huh? Well now, that sounds like a challenge.”
Maggie gave him her most dazzling smile. “Roy, you wouldn’t stand a chance.”
Eloise Hastings’s quaint blue house was tucked between two sprawling maple trees, her yard meticulously kept. When Maggie knocked, there was a long pause before a curtain twitched, and the door cracked open.
“If you’re selling something, I already have a vacuum and a decent set of knives.”
Maggie chuckled. “No selling. We’re from Halibut Cove, and we’re looking into Bradley Comstock’s past.”
Eloise narrowed her eyes. “Why?”
“We think he might be hiding things,” Audrey said bluntly.
Eloise hesitated. Then, after a sigh, she swung the door open. “Might as well come in.”
Inside, over cups of black coffee, Eloise filled in the gaps.
“When Ed and Lily came back, Ed was a broken man. Couldn’t get his footing in business, failed at everything. Lily thought having Bradley would help heal him. It didn’t. And one day …”
She trailed off.
They all knew how that sentence ended.
Audrey exhaled. “And Bradley?”
Eloise shook her head. “Bradley was trouble from the start. After Lily remarried, her new husband didn’t take to Bradley. Didn’t want him around. Sent him to a private school.”
“His name was Harrington?” Audrey asked.
“Yes, Gil Harrington.”
Maggie took a sip of her coffee. “Does he still live around here?”
“No, Gil left shortly after Lily passed away. I’d be surprised if he was still in contact with Bradley. Those two never got along.”
Audrey and Maggie exchanged a look.
Maggie set her cup down. “Who else might know about Bradley?”
Eloise considered. “Penny Woodworth. She runs a bookstore in town. She dated Bradley once—briefly, as I recall.”
The Book Nook & Cranny was small, cozy, and packed with books. Penny Woodworth, a petite woman in her mid-thirties with cropped auburn hair, was behind the counter.
At the sight of them, she froze. “Eloise called and said to be on the lookout for you two.”
Maggie raised an eyebrow. “Word travels fast in this town.”
Audrey smiled. “So you must already know we’re looking into Bradley Comstock.”
Penny immediately turned her back and started rearranging a shelf. “I don’t really—” Before she could brush them off completely, Maggie let out a dramatic sigh and began perusing the shelves with keen interest.
“What a lovely shop,” she said, running her fingers along the spines. “It’s been ages since I let myself indulge.” She pulled a book from the nearest display. “Ooh, The Paris Library! Audrey, did you read this one?”
Audrey blinked. “Uh, no?”
“You’d love it,” Penny piped up before she could stop herself. “It’s based on the true story of the American Library in Paris during World War II. A great mix of historical fiction and espionage.”
Maggie beamed. “Perfect. I’ll take it.” She plucked another off the shelf. “And this one?”
Penny hesitated. “That’s Lessons in Chemistry by Bonnie Garmus. It’s been out a while but is still really popular.”
Maggie nodded approvingly and added it to her growing pile. “And this?” She grabbed Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver.
“That’s a modern reimagining of David Copperfield. Won the Pulitzer,” Penny said, momentarily forgetting she had no intention of talking to them.
Maggie gasped dramatically. “A Pulitzer Prize winner? Sold!”
Within five minutes, Penny had recommended no fewer than twelve books, and Maggie had gathered them all on the checkout counter.
Audrey crossed her arms, barely hiding her smirk.
Now let’s see her ignore us.
Penny sighed, resigned, and walked to the register. “All right, let’s ring these up.”
Maggie whispered to Audrey, “See? I told you I was persuasive.”
Penny huffed but couldn’t help a small smirk as she scanned the first book. “All right. What do you want to know about Bradley?”
Audrey leaned in. “Anything you can tell us. What was he like?”
Penny hesitated, then lowered her voice. “I dated Bradley. For a split second.”
“And?” Audrey pressed.
Penny hesitated again, shifting uncomfortably. “He was … off. Possessive. Angry. Mean streak a mile wide. My parents hated him. Warned me to stay away.”
“But you didn’t?” Maggie guessed.
Penny shook her head. “I was young. Defiant. Thought my parents just didn’t understand.” She let out a humorless laugh. “Until I saw it up close for myself. The way he’d snap over small things. The cruelty. His erratic behavior. It was scary.”
Audrey’s stomach churned. “Did anything happen?”
Penny nodded grimly. “Not with me. I broke it off with a text and then blocked his number. Never heard from him again. But I did hear something bad happened at his prep school. Police got involved.”
Audrey and Maggie exchanged a glance.
“Where’s the school?” Maggie asked.
“Conner Prep. Fifteen minutes outside town.”
Audrey exhaled. “Then I guess that’s our next stop.”
Penny finished bagging up Maggie’s massive book haul and sighed. “You’re gonna find out some things you won’t like.”
Maggie took her bag and gave Penny a knowing smile. “That’s usually how these things go.”
As they stepped outside, Audrey nudged her grandmother. “So, you’re really gonna read all those?”
Maggie patted the bag as they crossed the street where her MG was parked. “Probably not. But I do like supporting small businesses.”
When they reached Maggie’s car, Audrey planted herself in front of the driver’s side door.
Maggie arched an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”
Audrey folded her arms. “I’m driving. For my own mental health.”
Maggie sighed, tossing her the keys.
As they sped off toward the prep school, one thing was certain—Bradley Comstock had a dark past. And they were about to find out just how deep it went.