Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
His phone buzzed. Daniels.
Officer Daniels
Got the records you requested. You need to see this. Six of the deaths on that list were investigated by Chief Morrison. All ruled accidental or natural causes. No autopsies performed on any of them.
Brooks stared at the message, then at Dennis Zamil’s photographs. The corruption went deeper than he’d thought. Morrison hadn’t just covered up Lily’s murder. He’d been protecting an operation for years, possibly decades.
Another text from Daniels.
Officer Daniels: Also found something weird. Morrison’s accident report from 2000 was filed by a deputy from the county sheriff’s office. Deputy’s name was Kenneth Morrison. David Morrison’s brother.
So the family had investigated itself. Convenient.
Brooks organized the evidence into chronological order. Between Lily’s research, Dennis’s documentation, and the official case files with their suspicious gaps, a picture was forming. The Aldrich family had run a smuggling operation from the lighthouse for generations. The Morrison family, as police chiefs, had protected them. Anyone who discovered the truth was silenced.
And now Melissa had vanished while researching the same history.
His phone rang. Vivienne.
“Brooks, I need you to come to The Mystic Cup. I’ve had another vision, and this one was different. Clearer. I saw the cave Dennis Zamil photographed. There’s an entrance to the tunnel system there. That’s how they’ve been moving contraband. That’s where Lily found the evidence that got her killed.”
“How did you know about Dennis Zamil’s photographs?”
A pause. “I didn’t. I saw the location in my vision and recognized it from old survey maps of the coastline. Who’s Dennis Zamil?”
Brooks explained quickly about the break-in and the evidence he’d recovered. Vivienne’s vision had led her to the same location Dennis had documented decades ago, without any knowledge of his investigation.
“Brooks, there’s more. In the vision, I saw Lily hiding something in that cave before they caught her. A recording device. She was documenting everything she found. If we can locate what she hid, it might still have evidence on it.”
“After twenty-five years?”
“It’s worth checking. If Lily was as careful as her mother claims, she would have used something waterproof, something that could survive.” Vivienne’s voice carried urgency. “We need to search that cave before whoever broke into Mrs. Zamil’s shed realizes there’s evidence still hidden there.”
Brooks checked his watch. Four in the afternoon. Enough daylight left for a preliminary investigation. “I’ll meet you at the lighthouse in thirty minutes. Bring flashlights and climbing gear if you have it.”
“Brooks, we should tell Chief Sullivan.”
“Not yet. If the Morrison family compromised the investigation before, I need to know the current chief can be trusted. He’s been helpful so far, but his father went missing in 1978 while investigating the lighthouse. That disappearance was never solved. I need to be sure Sullivan isn’t part of the cover-up before I bring him into this.”
Vivienne agreed, though he could hear her reluctance. They were going into a potentially dangerous situation without backup, following leads that had gotten multiple people killed.
But they were also the first investigators to piece together evidence from multiple sources, to see the full scope of the operation. For the first time in a quarter century, someone had a chance to expose the truth.
Brooks secured the evidence in the station safe, after making additional copies, and left a note for Sullivan explaining where he’d be and why. If something happened to him, the chief would find the documentation.
Then he headed for the lighthouse, where Vivienne waited beside her car, a backpack slung over her shoulder and determination in her eyes.
Time to find out what Lily Morgan had hidden in the cave. Time to discover whether her courage decades ago could still bring justice today.
Because if the pattern held, Melissa had very little time left. And the only way to save her was to follow the trail Lily had blazed when she died trying to expose the truth.
SEVEN
vivienne
Morning light streamed through the stained glass panels framing the front door of The Mystic Cup, casting jewel-toned patterns across the worn wooden floor. The opening routine steadied Vivienne after last night’s vison of hidden doorways, watching eyes, and Lily—dead at the hands of Gerald and Winston Aldrich.
The bell above the door chimed. Mrs. Pennington from the historical society entered at eight-thirty, exactly when she arrived every Wednesday morning for the past decade. The older woman held herself rigid, her silver-blond hair styled in an immaculate bob, pearls gleaming at her throat despite the early hour.
“Good morning, Vivienne. Earl Grey, if you would.”
“Of course.” Vivienne prepared the woman’s usual order. “Anything to accompany it today?”
Mrs. Pennington’s perfectly manicured fingers tapped against her handbag. “Actually, I came to inquire about your visit with the police detective yesterday. Velta Wright mentioned seeing him here after hours.”
The book club gossip network operated with remarkable efficiency. Vivienne kept her expression neutral as she set the teapot to steep. “Detective Harrington had questions about local history. Given the current situation with the missing tourist, I thought it prudent to assist however possible.”