First, they discovered the numerous emails Carmen had sent to Natalie about Natalie’s own research.
“Strangely, she wasn’t working on anything,” Natalie breathed. “It really sounded like she was, you know?”
Elena inhaled sharply. “My mother’s been sick for a while. You said so yourself. Maybe she thought she was researching something? Perhaps she made something up in her head?”
But Natalie looked stiff with worry. “No. I don’t think so. She sounded so sure. And you know how Carmen can be when she’s sure.”
Elena did know. She continued clicking through the email, thinking,Come on, Mom. Reveal something to us! Something that will trigger understanding!
Into the search bar, she typed: Cranberry Cove. And that was when she discovered the emails sent between Carmen Vasquez and the head editor, Sam Ellison, starting in September and ending on the day Sam had quit as said editor, three days before Carmen’s collapse.
Natalie gasped.
Hi Sam. Me again. I wonder what you think about these documents? (Attached.) They seem to suggest that Judge Drury is in cahoots with Connersville Mayor Roth. I mean, I think they’re going to destroy the last bit of ecosystem we have right there on the cove. The last bit of “prettiness” we “normal” Millbrook residents can enjoy! But that’s just the tip of the iceberg. It looks like they want to destroy part of Webb Forest, too. What do you think? I need your editorial eye. Carmen.
Carmen, thanks for the message. I checked the documents and can’t see any connection between Cranberry Cove, Judge Drury, or any of these so-called “plans.” Honestly, I think reporting on it would be a little irresponsible. Sam.
Hi Sam. Thanks for your feedback. You’re probably right. Natalie seems to think this is a strong case over in Connersville, and I thought maybe we had a connection here. You know how my brain’s been lately.
Carmen, yeah. I’ve been meaning to ask you. Are you feeling all right?
Sam, hard to say. I think I’m just burned out. It was bound to happen sometime.
But in the wake of these emails, Carmen wrote to Sam about the potential criminality happening in Cranberry Cove, not once but four more times. Each time, Sam pushed back, suggesting that Carmen’s brain wasn’t working correctly, that she was either too exhausted or too ill to perceive what was really going on.
Natalie hissed as they read, “He was gaslighting her!”
Elena’s ears rang with anger. What Sam, the editor, had done to her mother was horrendous. Now, as she clicked through the documents her mother had asked Sam to look at, she could see the connection between Cranberry Cove and Connersville plain as day. Sam had seen it too, unless he was blind.
“There has to be a reason he did this,” Natalie whispered.
Elena put her face in her hands and thought of her poor mother, who must have known that her mind was going. She’d wanted to turn to her friend Sam for guidance, and he’d essentially shoved her away, calling her insane, or tired, or old.
“What was your impression of Sam?” Elena asked Natalie now.
Natalie leaned back in her chair. She’d gone pale. “I always thought he was great! Kind. Smart. A brilliant editor. I always thought that he and your mom got on like a house on fire. I feel so naive again. So stupid for not seeing what he was doing!”
Elena tried to console her. “He was being pretty sneaky about it, I think. I’m sure he didn’t want anyone else to notice.”
Natalie blinked and blinked to keep her tears at bay. “But then he quit! Out of the blue. Why?”
Elena knew this was a clue to the greater puzzle. “What was his official reason?”
“Exhaustion. Early retirement,” Natalie said. “We had a little party for him and everything. Carmen gave an impassioned speech about all his years at the paper.”
Elena groaned and reached for the phone. “We’re going to call him. Now. And see what he says.”
“Now?” Natalie sounded frightened.
“I think the element of surprise is essential here,” Elena said. Using the list of reporters' phone numbers taped to her mother’s desk, she dialed Sam’s number and let it ring and ring till, after seven, he answered.
“Sam Ellison here,” he said. “Now, who’s handling Carmen’s desk these days?”
Annoyance shot through Elena. He knows about my mother’s medical problems, but we haven’t heard from him once since she collapsed. They worked together for twenty years! Wouldn’t a true friend have come by? Wouldn’t a true friend have called?
“Hi, Sam,” Elena said. “It’s Elena Vasquez.”
Sam put on a false, bright tone. “Elena Vasquez! As I live and breathe! I can hardly believe it’s you at your mother’s desk. Weren’t you chased away when that woman showed you her true colors? Like I was?” Sam barked with laughter. “I’m only kidding you, you know.”
