Dr. Winter—Day Seven of Cass Tanner’s Return
They found the body of Richard Foley the next morning. It was lodged in the rocks on the westernmost point of the island of Freya. The cause of death appeared to be drowning because there was salt water in his lungs, but he also had contusions on his upper torso and a large gash on the back of his head. Wood splinters were found embedded in his skin.
They had not determined the exact time of death, but the extent of the decomposition was consistent with the time period between finding the boat and finding the body.
Abby and Leo did not change their plan to return to Connecticut. They took calls from the field office as they drove.
Theories were being spun about Cass and whether she had killed Richard Foley to escape: “It would explain why she lied about the timing… the two-day gap.… She killed him and then had to figure out what to do, how to get home.… She was never on a truck.…”
But others were willing to pin the death on the Pratts, who had now been identified as the Petersons: “They panicked, confrontedhim. Maybe he threatened to turn them in. A heated argument turned violent.”
Abby wanted to believe this as well, but Cass’s stories were impossible to ignore.
“What was it she said, Abby? About that first night when she got on the boat?”
Abby was thinking the same thing. “She said she knew it was dangerous to fall in the water between the boat and the dock. She said her father had told her years before how the boat can get pushed back and crush you against the dock.”
Leo hung his head. “Jesus.”
“Are you still okay with this?” Abby asked as they pulled into the Martins’ driveway.
Abby had a plan, a way to find Emma. But they would have to lie, both of them, and very well.
Leo didn’t hesitate. “Let’s do it.”
Cass
Day seven was the last day I kept track of my days back home. It was the day Dr. Winter told us that Emma had been found.
She told us as soon as she and Agent Strauss returned from Maine and the island of Freya, where they found my sister’s necklace but no sign of Emma or the Pratts.
I have such a clear picture of Dr. Winter from that afternoon. She was wearing jeans and a light blue T-shirt that matched the color of her eyes. The sun was shining through the window of the living room and through her blond hair, making it glow. But it also made her face appear dark and full of shadows from her nose and her cheekbones, and I had to remind myself that it was the backlighting from the sun that was causing this. Not me. Not the trust in me that was driving her disclosure of this news aboutEmma. I felt responsible for those things, and the weight of them nearly crushed me.
Dr. Winter said that they’d found the brother of Lucy Pratt, or Lorna Peterson, and he had been very cooperative. He told them his family had owned another piece of property, a small cabin farther north, near Acadia. They confirmed it with the will of their mother and tracked the conveyance deed. They had an address, and surveillance teams had made a positive ID. Dr. Winter and Agent Strauss told us that Emma and her daughter were inside that house. The Pratts as well.
I nearly burst open. I don’t even know what it was—joy, relief, nerves. They were surging together in a toxic potion, through my veins, through my body.
Agent Strauss was with Dr. Winter when she told us these things, and he said that we could not tell anyone, not even my father, because they did not want to spook the Pratts. They were going to do more surveillance to assess the situation, maybe for a day or two. They wanted to make sure there were no weapons in the house and observe where Emma and her daughter were sleeping at night. They had time. There didn’t appear to be any immediate danger, and the worst thing would be to rush in and have someone get hurt. They were telling me because they needed my help—they wanted me to interpret the things they were seeing, the behaviors and schedules, especially of her daughter. When did she nap? When did she bathe? They told Mr. and Mrs. Martin because that’s where I was staying and they wanted me to have emotional support. They told us we could not tell anyone else.
My mother had been upset when she heard about the necklace being found, so you can imagine her reaction now. She did not want to believe Emma had really been with me on the island. She wanted to believe I was crazy, even though I was the only personin her life who could still tell her she was beautiful and smart and perfect.
I started to wonder if I was out of my mind. But then, finally, after all these days of waiting, she went out of hers.
She waited for them to leave, and then she ran upstairs to her bedroom and slammed the door. Mr. Martin told me that she was angry because if this story was true, then Emma was avoiding coming home, and that was very hard for my mother to accept.
That was all a lie. But I pretended it wasn’t. I pretended to believe him. And I held my breath.
Dr. Winter
It was the view from the window that gave Cass away. She had been so careful with her stories, with the details and descriptions. Every emotion, every reaction and interaction that she described was exactly as it would have been if her story had been true.
But the view from the window—that had been Cass’s only mistake.
She told them about that first night on the island with precision. The fight over the necklace. Hiding in Emma’s car. The headlights shining on Emma, lighting up her face as she stood in the sand under the moonlight.
Then the long car ride, the music playing. Parking by a small dock in the woods. Feeling powerful and clean like they could start over. And then Rick, the boatman, and the ride to the island. Lucy being so kind, but keeping her apart from Emma. She said she could see Emma through the window, across the courtyard. The same window Abby had looked out after they’d found the island.
She described what she saw on Emma’s face:She looked like sheknew exactly what she was doing and like she was certain that what she was doing was the best thing anyone could ever do.
