“I know. I’ve had years to think about it, believe me.”
“Did you tell Audrey about the affair between Tilly and Aiden?”
“I didn’t. It’s not my story to tell.”
It seemed she was being straight with me, but the longer we spoke, the more I wondered if there were other secrets she was hiding.
“You may not have gone into details about that night, but having grown up here, in such a small town, Audrey was connected to just about everyone in your former friend group,” I said.
“Yeah, I guess when I talked to her, I didn’t think it through. I didn’t know that Anne was in any way connected to Audrey’s murder. If I had, I would have said something sooner. I swear.”
“You seem to be telling the truth,” I said.
Her shoulders slumped in relief, but the guilt was still written all over her face.
“Now I’m thinking,” she said, “if I had kept my mouth shut, maybe Audrey would still be alive.”
“Or maybe she would have found out another way to get to the truth,” I said. “Curiosity has a way of pushing through cracks.”
We sat in silence for a time, and then I said, “At the bonfire, did Anne talk to any one person more than the others? One of the boys, perhaps?”
“To be honest, once the truth about Tilly and Aiden came out, my focus was on Tilly. Everyone was yelling at each other, and there she was, mourning the loss of a child. No one seemed to be focusing on that or caring about what she was going through, except for me.”
I leaned forward, looking Wendy in the eye. “My opinion is that someone in your group is responsible for Anne’s disappearance, what I believe was her murder, and Audrey’s as well. I just haven’t been able to prove it yet.”
I stood, the puzzle pieces shifting in my mind as I realized I was homing in on the killer. “Thank you for being honest with me.”
Wendy nodded. “Are you close to figuring out the person responsible for Audrey’s death?”
“I’m a lot closer today than I was yesterday,” I said.
She wiped away a few more tears, reaching for a tissue as she said, “That’s something, I guess.”
I walked out the door, and as it closed behind me, I stared out at the quiet street, thinking about a night at the beach, a girl who’d trusted the wrong people, and a former circle of friends who were still bonded in silence … until now.
32
I’d driven to the end of Wendy’s street when my phone buzzed against the console. I glanced at the screen, expecting a message from Foley or Whitlock.
Instead, I saw Vaughn Lambert’s name.
I pulled over, letting the engine idle while I read the text.
I spoke with Tilly after I left your house, and we need to talk to you. Could you come by the house when you get a chance?
I stared at the message a moment longer, weighing the timing. Given it was almost six o’clock, I’d planned to call it a day, giving myself some time to take in everything I’d learned today and set up my plans for tomorrow. I also didn’t like the way the last conversation had gone with Vaughn, and I wasn’t interested in going for round two. Earlier, he’d stood in my kitchen demanding his son come home. Now he wanted my time, my attention, and, I assumed, my information.
Had they been alerted to the fact that I knew about the night of the bonfire and the secrets they’d been keeping all these years?
I needed to know.
I’m nearby, I typed back. I can stop by.
He responded right away.
Thank you. We’ll be here.
I put the car back into gear and headed toward their neighborhood, the ocean fog rolling in low and slow as day turned to night. Tilly opened the door when I arrived, and her demeanor felt a lot different than the last time I’d seen her, less rigid and not wound as tight. Her hair was pulled back, her sleeves rolled to her elbows. She offered me a faint smile as she invited me in.
