A small smile touched her lips.
She closed the notebook and moved toward the stairs that led down the path toward the beach. She left Tosh’s house. The waves whispered as she walked beside the ocean, the night folding around her.
She didn’t stop until the darkness swallowed her whole.
Behind her, somewhere up the hill, a pen tapped once . . . twice . . . keeping time.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Too Bright
Sometimes the morning was simply too bright. Too bright to hide stains. Too bright to pretend last night hadn’t happened.
The sky over Avalon was cloudless, that kind of impossible blue that made the previous night feel like a fever dream. No one sitting in Steve’s Steakhouse could shake it off. The clatter of plates and the low murmur of tourists only made the calm worse. It was a reminder that life went on, even when your own has stopped.
Tosh sat on one side of the table, shoulders hunched, gazing into a cup of coffee gone cold. Cass sat beside him, pale, her arm in a fresh sling. The bandage beneath it itched where the bullet had kissed skin what seemed a lifetime ago. Zach sat across from her, silent, eyes rimmed with exhaustion. Next to him, Harmony stirred her tea slowly, watching the swirl of cream dissolve like smoke.
No one spoke for a long time.
Finally, Cass broke the silence. “They sedated her,” she said softly. “I was told they did it at the station. She was screaming so loud when they put her in the holding cell; they had no choice. Durante signed off on it. For her safety and ours. That’s what they wrote.”
Zach nodded once, not looking up. “She was gone long before they took her in,” he said. “We just didn’t realize how bad it was until last night. Maybe we’re all blind.”
Tosh rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand. “I should’ve seen it. I knew she was unraveling. I thought eventually she’d calm down, or that it would blow over. What in the hell was I thinking?”
Harmony spoke. “You were thinking like someone who wanted to save her.”
He gave a bitter laugh. “Save her? She tried killing me, and then herself.” He paused a moment. “And that was after killing multiple women. There was no saving her.”
“People don’t always mean what they do when they’re broken,” Harmony said. “Sometimes the mind just snaps.”
Cass looked between them, her eyes wet. “She said she ended your story, Harmony. What did she mean by that?”
Harmony shrugged. “I don’t know. She was saying so much—and yet, saying nothing at all.”
Zach leaned back, letting out a breath. “So, it’s over then,” he said. “They’ve got her. She said enough for them to call it a confession. They think she had help, but she won’t confirm.”
Tosh looked at him sharply. “Who in the hell would help her?”
Zach frowned. “I don’t know, man. I just keep thinking about the evidence. The wounds. The angles. The staging. It’s my job. The strength it took to hang those bodies . . .” He shook his head. “Torie’s strong, but I just . . .” He trailed off.
“Rope work like that isn’t just rage. It’s practice,” Harmony added.
“Is she really capable of doing all of that?” Cass asked. “Was she even sane enough to figure it out?”
The table went silent again. Outside, a ferry horn blared in the distance, long and low, as if it were mourning something none of them could name.
It all felt too easy. Too neat. Too convenient.
Harmony finally spoke, her voice quiet but precise. “They’ll analyze everything. Forensics, prints, timelines. People do get wrongly convicted, but it’s harder these days. If she was the one who did it, they’ll know.”
“Unless someone touched what they shouldn’t have touched,” Tosh muttered, then looked away like he regretted saying it.
“What if she didn’t do it?” Cass asked. “Or what if she really did have help?”
Harmony’s gaze lifted as she shrugged. “Then there’s still someone out there with blood on their hands, someone who might not be finished.”
The words hung heavy between them. A shiver ran through Cass. Tosh’s jaw tightened as his eyes narrowed. Zach looked out the open window where the sunlight glinted off the harbor.
