“Trust me,” the woman scoffed. “With what they’re worth, I’ll go where no authority will ever find me. So now, last chance. Give me?—”
It unfolded in slow motion.
The attack came from behind. One moment, Elara was holding the gun steady. Then Jo was there, sweeping in with impossible force. The pistol flew from the woman’s grip, tumbling end over end through the air, catching a flash of light before it clattered to the floor.
Elara staggered forward as Jo shoved her down hard onto the bed with surprising strength.
Ocean dove, her hand closing around the weapon. By the time she scrambled upright, her mother was already on top of Elara, pressing a knee into her back, holding her down.
“Call 911, hon,” Skye said, then changed her mind. “Actually, never mind that. Call Arthur.”
“Good work, Jo!” Ocean said.
“Who is Jo?” Elara screamed in frustration.
Jo planted her hands on her hips, chin tilted in full defiance. “Your worst nightmare, sugar. And the trouble with nightmares? They stick around, the same as ghosts.”
Epilogue
The Harbor View cemetery sat on a hill above the gleaming waters of the harbor. Stone walls formed a border around it like something out of an old movie. Headstones leaned sideways, some of the names rubbed almost smooth, and weird little angels with broken wings stood next to tall stone markers streaked with moss. The place smelled like seaweed and wet rocks, and every now and then the clang of a buoy bell could be heard.
Ocean tightened her grip on the bouquet of flowers she was holding. Standing next to Arthur, she stared at the two graves in front of them. They looked older than anything she’d ever seen, the names black against the gray of the headstones. The grass around them was freshly cut and neatly trimmed, a sharp contrast to the graves that had been sitting here forever.
“How did they end up side by side like this?” Ocean asked, glancing at Arthur.
“Jo died during the flu epidemic,” Arthur said. “While that was going on, they couldn’t ship bodies anywhere. Afterwards, according to Henry, her fancy New York family wasn’t interested in hauling her all the way to New York. They probably had a marble mausoleum waiting…columns, stained glass, the whole nine yards. But no. She got Harbor View.” He gestured to the grave at Ocean’s feet. “And when Henry came back from the war, he bought the plot next to her. Saved it for when his turn came.”
Ocean tilted her head. “How did Henry die?”
“An accident,” Arthur replied. “He was trying to install electricity in his house.”
“That’s kind of tragic, you know?”
“The way he tells it, he was ready to join her any time. Poor man. Little did he know he’d be stuck here for eternity, looking at the house across First Street where his lost love waited too.” Arthur huffed out a laugh, sharp and a little sad. “I guess you could call that tragic.”
Ocean took two roses out of her flower arrangement and leaned down, placing one on each grave.
“But what is it I hear? You’ve been the letter carrier between these two? That makes things a little less tragic, don’t you think?”
“I guess so.”
“Look, darling. It means he trusts you. He actually shows himself to you.”
Ocean smiled. “He’s a good judge of character.”
Arthur gave a sly grin. “Well, I’m glad of it. Means I won’t be the only one he moans and complains to. I’ll just hand him over to you for babysitting duty.”
As she and Arthur walked toward the building where her grandmother’s service was being held, Ocean replayed everything that had happened since Jo knocked the gun out of Elara’s hand. Arthur had gotten there in record time, the state police not too far behind him. Long before the town sheriff finally bothered to show.
Elara was hauled away in cuffs. She said nothing about diamonds to the police. The story behind those stones was way too messy, and her mom wasn’t about to open that can of worms. Skye had just nodded, gone along with Jo’s wishes, and locked the whole thing away. What would happen to them in the future? Ocean didn’t really care.
The important thing was that her mom had already agreed they’d be staying in Harbor View for the summer, at least. For Ocean, that was a total win. Two weeks had stretched into three months, and who knew what she might be able to talk Skye into once summer was over.
I stared at the text that popped up on my phone, and for a second it felt like my whole body was vibrating with anger. Two days ago, Rhys had moaned that he couldn’t afford the flight to Connecticut. So, I bought the ticket. I booked the car service. I even arranged another one to get him from the airport to the cemetery this morning. I did all of it, telling myself at least he’d be here. At least he’d show up.
But the text said it all.
Sorry, I couldn’t work it into my schedule. Hug Ocean for me.
