Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
SCARLETT
Coco trots ahead of me down the apartment hallway.
We have just returned from the vet who said it was nothing serious, perhaps a mild stomach irritation. He gave her a shot and advised me to feed her bland food for the next few days.
But Coco was already almost herself the moment we stepped outside into the salt-tinged air. So, we stopped at the park on the way back for a short walk and some fresh air before heading back to the apartment.
The place was dotted with manicured flowerbeds, shaded white benches, and paths winding their way between trimmed hedges.
Perching on one of the benches, I allowed the soft floral scent drifting through the breeze and the distant hum of the sea to calm my thoughts, while I watched Coco chasing leaves for a while across the neatly kept grass.
Finally, she exhausted herself and came back to sit with me. Her sides rose and fell as she leaned into my leg. I took that as a sign she was ready to go home.
As we now reach the apartment door, it suddenly swings open from the inside and Alice steps out, carrying a black bin bag in one hand and her black purse hooked over her arm.
We both jump, but Coco slips past Alice through the open doorway and runs into the apartment, nails clicking on the floor.
“Oh, Scarlett,” she says. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I was just heading out.”
When Gabriel and Judy are in town, Alice usually only comes every second day—or when needed—to do some light cleaning and stock the fridge. The major cleaning is done when they return to Los Angeles or before they arrive here.
Alice pulls the door almost closed and lowers her voice. “Mr. Sutton is home.” Worry creases her face. “He came in about an hour ago and went straight to the balcony. He’s still out there.” Her voice drops even further. “He’s been drinking.”
Drinking? I thought he had stopped.
“I tried calling Judy,” Alice continues. “Then I remembered she went to the camp and won’t have her phone on her.”
“Thanks for telling me this.” I’ve never seen Gabriel drunk before so I’m not looking forward to going in.
Alice hesitates, clearly feeling torn, maybe even guilty for telling me. “He’s not in a good way at all.” She glances at her watch. “I have to get to my next job. But if you need me to stay a little longer—”
“No.” I squeeze her arm. “It’s okay. You can go. Thanks again.”
She nods and shifts the bin bag from one hand to the other but doesn’t make a move to leave.
“Is everything else all right, Alice?” Is there more she has not told me?
“I… I was just wondering about, you know, the funeral. I’m not exactly sure when it is. Judy told me there are changes and she wanted to get back to me. But since she is at the camp and Mr. Sutton is…” She doesn’t finish.
“It’s postponed,” I say quickly. “We’ll let you know the new date.”
Alice has been working for the Suttons for so long that they pretty much consider her as part of the family. So, of course, she was invited.
Relief softens her face. “I’ll stop by tomorrow with groceries.”
“Thank you, Alice. Have a good day.”
She nods and finally walks toward the elevator.
I find Gabriel slumped on the balcony with a bottle of whiskey on the glass table in front of him and a tumbler hanging loosely from his fingers.
He looks drunk, all right. But the bottle is barely touched, the glass too.
It doesn’t make sense.
His body is sagging forward, head bowed, shoulders collapsed inward like he’s given up fighting gravity. In his other hand he’s holding a manila envelope, identical to the one he got from his PI last time.
My heart sinks. Whatever the PI told him must have been devastating.
Is that why Gabriel was not answering my calls?
What if the detective found out something awful about Sadie? From what I can see, Gabriel is not drunk but stuck in a state of shock.
“Gabriel?” My fingertips graze his shoulder.
“Huh?” He raises his head a few inches. The whites of his eyes are webbed with red, and his pupils struggle to focus on my face.
“What did the PI find out?” I nod toward the envelope, which is almost slipping between his fingers.
“Noth—” His voice catches. “Nothing important.”
“I don’t believe you.” I snatch the envelope. He tries to reach for it, but his arm rises too late, too slow.
“Don’t,” he says, his voice hoarse. He attempts to stand but sways and collapses back into the chair, reaching for his glass instead. He takes just a sip and grimaces as though it burned him.
Before he can try to stop me, I head back into the apartment, sink onto the couch and slide my fingers inside the envelope. They emerge with a yellowed newspaper clipping and a photograph.
Gabriel as a teenager, grinning beside another boy I don’t recognize.
What is this about?
I glance at the headline.
local teen dies in tragic fall
My eyes race through the article. The air rushes from my lungs in a whoosh and the paper starts to tremble in my grip.
I pull out the remaining contents of the envelope and my eyes land on a photo of Judy as a teenager, wearing a blue and white striped dress and two braids. I turn the photo over and read the words on the back.
My head snaps back in surprise. I don’t understand.
As a child Judy was a resident at Saltspray? Why didn’t she say anything?
Before I can dwell on that question, my gaze drifts back at the photo of Gabriel and the boy. Next, I read the report and the room begins to spin.
After pulling in several deep breaths to get back my bearings, I pull myself to my feet and return to the balcony.
I drop the article, photos, and the report on the table next to the whiskey bottle.
“Is it true? Did you push someone from the roof when you were seventeen?” I point at the other boy in the photo. “That’s Luke Landry, a high school friend of yours. According to that article, he died after being pushed from the roof.”
I desperately want to believe that Gabriel is innocent in all this. Please God, let there be a good explanation.
Gabriel’s gaze drops to the table. For what feels like hours, he just stares at the evidence before him. When he finally raises his head, his bloodshot eyes have a haunted look to them. “It was an accident.” His voice is like gravel now. “It’s all there in black and white.”
“That’s not what I read. Also, according to the PI’s report, there was enough evidence to prove that you deliberately pushed him during a fight.” I run a hand through my hair. “And your family covered it up?”
I can totally understand why they would do that. Gabriel was seventeen, about to go to law school. Something like that would have ruined his entire life. From what I know, his parents are rich and powerful, owners of several luxury hotels and resorts all over the US and abroad.
The Suttons had money, and the kind of power that makes truths disappear.
Is that what happened here?
“Gabriel, your PI clearly thinks—”
“Thought,” he blurts out. “Lawrence, the PI. He’s dead.”
I sink into an empty chair, the cushion sighing under my weight.
“What do you mean dead?” My voice is unsteady, cracked at the edges.
“I went to meet him, and I found him in his car… shot in the head.” He puts down the tumbler and wipes his eyes. “I called the police to tell them about the body.”
I don’t know how long I sit there staring at him, trying to come up with a response that feels logical. “Who killed him?” I ask finally, my voice a whisper.
Gabriel shrugs and averts his gaze.
“Something is going on here. There has to be a reason why the PI shared this information with you. I need to know the truth, Gabriel. What did your childhood have to do with the investigation into Sadie?” I pick up the report and begin reading it aloud.
Mr. Sutton, I am well aware that my assignment was supposed to end at finding dirt on the camp, but I pride myself on never leaving a stone unturned, and inconsistencies in your daughter’s disappearance demanded a broader look.
I expanded my inquiry to include everyone involved, including you and your wife.
My research led me to examine both your backgrounds, a decision that uncovered the below information:
Gabriel Sutton (father): At seventeen, it was believed that you pushed a classmate—a close friend—off the roof of Redwood Vine High School in LA.
Officially it was an accident. No charges were filed, and no trial took place.
But relatives of the victim, Luke Landry, and certain law-enforcement contacts informed me they had evidence pointing to intent.
But your family apparently paid off a witness and donated a new auditorium to the school as well as brand-new musical instruments.
Unfortunately, I was unable to locate the witness, but friends who knew both you and Luke Landry claim you fought over a girl. But the official story is that Luke slipped and fell to his death.
Mr. Sutton, the reason I am sharing this with you is because my gut tells me what happened in your childhood could be connected to your daughter’s disappearance.
I look up, my face burning. “Did you push him?” I whisper, tears welling. “Tell me the truth.”
Defeated, his bloodshot eyes meet mine. “I did.”
I close my eyes, draw in a steadying breath.
When I open them, tears spill out. “Then tell me if your past does tie into Sadie’s disappearance.
Lawrence wouldn’t have chased this lead if it wasn’t relevant.
Tell me everything or I’ll go to the police.
” I sniff loudly. “Start with the night she disappeared.”
The moment those words escape me, that night floods back like a raging wave. Gabriel running after Sadie, vanishing for hours, not responding to my calls and messages. What happened during those missing hours?
“It was all my fault.” He drops his head into his hands. “I never should have… I shouldn’t have done it.”
The slur has returned to his voice and it makes it hard to understand what he’s saying. His hand drags across the table as he reaches for the tumbler, but I move it out of his reach and snatch the bottle as well, placing it on the floor at my feet.
Waiting for him to continue, all kinds of terrifying and unthinkable scenarios go through my head and my stomach twists into a tight coil. I grab the edge of the table to keep my hands from trembling.
The clear blue sea beyond the balcony shimmers like it’s trying to catch my attention, to send me a warning.
Gabriel sits beside me, fingers laced so tightly together they’ve gone white at the knuckles. Is he cooking up some lies he can feed me?
“Gabriel,” I whisper, my fingertips barely touching his shoulder. He flinches and a low moan tears out of him. “That night you went after Sadie, you disappeared for a long time. Where were you exactly?”
“I did something, Scarlett…” His voice splinters as he presses a fist to his mouth. A single tear cuts a path down his tanned face, disappearing into the stubble. “Something unforgivable. Judy will never… When she finds out the truth, she will never forgive me.”
“What happened?” I fold my arms across my chest as frustration builds up inside me, a volcano on the verge of exploding. “What did you do, Gabriel?”
“I hurt my little girl.”