engine.
They sat for a moment in silence, exchanging wary looks, listening to the roar of the ocean. On days when the sea was calm, you’d never know it was there if you were facing the other direction. But when a storm blew in and the sea rose in fury, it could sound like an approaching train-or perhaps a dozen of them all at once. And if the tide was high, and gray breakers pounded at the rocky coast, driving great sprays of seawater into the air-it was then you understood and respected the power of the sea.
Fortunately, the heaviest rain still held off, except for brief waves of heavy drops that sprayed the coastline. Candy leaned forward and looked up at the dark sky, then turned toward the cabin. “I guess we should go inside.”
“I guess so.”
A pause. “You go first. I’ll be right behind you.”
“Spoken like a true friend.” Maggie took a deep breath. “Okay, here I go.”
She had just reached for the Jeep’s door handle when she heard a shout to her right. Looking over, she saw the cabin’s back door swing open. Amanda ran out.
“Amanda!” Maggie cried, jumping out.
“Mom, you’re here!”
“Amanda! My baby!”
They ran into each other’s arms and hugged.
“What took you so long?” Amanda asked, looking worried.
“We got here as quickly as we could. What in the devil’s name is going on?”
Amanda hesitated, casting a glance at Candy, then looking back at her mother. She took Maggie’s arm, tugging her toward the cabin. “You’d better come inside.”
Maggie let her daughter pull her through the door, and Candy followed. They entered a small mudroom, then turned right into a narrow kitchen.
“Amanda, what…?” Maggie began, but Amanda shushed her, then turned toward a doorway that led to the cabin’s living area. “ Cam, it’s me. We’re coming in,” Amanda called out.
There was a mumbled response. Amanda led them into the room beyond.
It took Candy a few moments to make sense of all she saw.
The large, gray-carpeted room doubled as a dining area and living room, with a dining table and chairs in one corner, a big comfy sofa in the middle, and windows all along the side that looked out over the sea-an incredible view during the daytime, Candy guessed. Bookshelves lined the back wall, and a stone fireplace occupied the interior wall to her left. It was a cozy, inviting place-though tonight it looked storm tossed, as if a great wind had somehow broken into the place and swept incautiously through.
Near the center of the room, sitting in a straight-backed chair, was Sebastian J. Quinn, wearing khakis, a baggy, faded blue sweatshirt, and old-man’s slippers. His hands appeared to be tied behind his back, held in place with repeated wrappings of steel gray duct tape. A gag had been tied around his mouth. Candy shuddered when he looked at her with hateful eyes, then followed his gaze as it shifted across the room.
Candy saw him then, Cameron, the same tall, scrawny kid, standing in a darkened corner. His lopsided grin was gone, though, his shaggy hair even more disheveled, and his green eyes were narrow and intense. A hunting rifle was tucked into his shoulder. His finger rested uneasily near the trigger, the muzzle pointed straight at Sebastian J. Quinn’s chest.
Candy couldn’t help but gasp.
She noticed how stiff Cameron stood, how stoic his face had become. All the joy had gone out of him. He looked not unlike a caged animal.
“Cameron,” she said softly, her voice shaking, “what are you doing?”
Almost simultaneously, Maggie let out a shriek. “Cameron! Put that thing down before you hurt someone!” she demanded sharply.
But he barely acknowledged their presence. Sebastian J. Quinn grunted something, drawing Candy’s attention. “Why is he tied up like that?” she asked, the confusion evident in her voice. She started toward him, not sure what she planned to do, although she supposed she should free him. But she was stopped by a shout.
“Don’t move!”
“What?” Candy turned to Cameron, her brows falling, her head tilting. “Cameron, I don’t understand what’s happening. We can’t leave him like that. We have to untie him-right now.”
“No.”
“What do you mean, ‘no’? This is crazy. What are you doing?”
Cameron’s face shifted just slightly at Candy’s questions, as if he were being scolded by a parent. In response, he pointed with his eyes and a tilt of his head. “It’s over there.”
Both Maggie and Candy turned-and that’s when Candy saw the files.
They were piled on the table. One of them lay open, its papers strewn about.
In an instant Candy’s confusion was pushed aside as her anger rose. “You did take them!” she shouted, looking back at him, her gaze narrowing. “You broke into our house!”
“I had to,” he said, his voice deep and husky. “I had to know what was in them.”
“But Cameron-”
“It’s all there,” he interrupted. “Didn’t you look at them?”
“Of course I looked at some of them but-”
“I called him,” Cameron went on, the words tumbling out of him now as Candy glanced at Sebastian J. Quinn, then moved curiously toward the table. “I called him and told him I knew what he had done. I thought he was coming after us.”
“Called him? Who’s coming after you?” Maggie asked, a touch of fear creeping into her voice.
Cameron pointed, his eyes darkening eerily. “Him. He did it. He murdered my mother.”
“He… he
“He did it, Mom,” Amanda piped in from where she stood near the doorway. “It’s true.”
“I don’t understand.” Maggie looked hard at Cameron. “What are you talking about? Your mother’s not dead. She’s still alive. I talked to her just last week. How could he have killed her?”
“Not that mother,” was Cameron’s answer.
Maggie turned to her daughter, shaking her head, still not understanding. “Amanda? What the hell is going on?”
Candy had reached the table now, and as her gaze swept across the papers on the table she suddenly realized what Cameron was saying. It all came rushing in, engulfing her like a wave, overpowering her, hitting her so hard and fast it almost hurt-all the missed clues, all the puzzle pieces that didn’t seem to fit, all the facts that had seemed so confusing but now became so clear.
She spun toward Cameron, her eyes wide, her mouth falling open.
She saw it now-the hair, the eyes, the posture-so like those of the man in the photo that rested on Sapphire’s piano, the man who stood beside the young Susan Jane Vincent, smiling easily, wearing a USM sweatshirt.
Candy raised a trembling finger, pointing it at Cameron, shaking it a little as the words spilled out of her. “Oh my God! You’re Sapphire’s son!”
THIRTY-TWO
“What are you talking about?” Maggie looked at Candy as if her friend had gone daft.
“That’s it! Don’t you see!” She jerked her finger wildly. “Sapphire Vine is his real mother.
“Whose real mother?”
“Cameron’s! He’s her son…
She had turned back to face the teenager, her finger still held out toward him, though after a moment she forced herself to lower it.
In the stunned silence that followed, all eyes turned toward Cameron, who backed farther into the corner,
