Beach Thriller(106)
“Do you remember that Ned was working the Dairy Dip that day?” I remind Holly.
“Yeah, I do in fact. And I can’t believe I didn’t recognize that the busker was that weird kid from the ice-cream shop. And he’s Sid’s son? Crazy. Beauport really is a small town.” Holly shakes her head.
“He was always a little creepy, but he saved me twice, you know.”
Holly removes her sunglasses, squinting in confusion. “What do you mean? More than spotting the generator?”
I steady myself. I guess this is it. No more secrets. No more lies.
“When he wasn’t at the Dairy Dip, Ned picked up odd jobs at the Carmichaels’—usually landscaping, gardening, that sort of thing,” I begin. “He was on the grounds the day that Maeve called the cops on me about the diamond earrings that Krystal stole.”
“Oh yeah, Krystal,” Holly said. “Remember when she wanted to live with us because she got kicked out of her apartment for not paying rent?”
I turn my head away. Hearing her name sends a searing pain through me. But I center myself.
“Tom Walker showed up, took me aside—wanted to talk it over, he said, but he brought me to a secluded spot on the property to conduct his interview … I should have known better. Ned didn’t trust the cops—didn’t trust anybody who had authority—and I guess he followed us. When he came out of the bushes, Walker had his pants unbuttoned, and—well, you can imagine what he wanted in exchange for the charges being dropped.”
Tears spill down my cheeks. It was so long ago, but telling the story out loud brings all the fear and shame back like it happened yesterday.
Holly looks at me with such compassion I could crack. I deserve nothing from her for what I’ve done.
“Ned saved me. It’s that simple. He begged me to report Walker. He was obsessed with the idea of corruption in law enforcement, and this was a chance to call it out. But I couldn’t tell anyone. Not you, not Mom or Conrad. It was too much. Ned didn’t understand why I stayed silent. He knew that the Beauport PD was protecting Walker, blue covering for blue, and he wanted the truth to come to light. Just like with Conrad. He knew Conrad was lying to me, and he outed him.”
Holly again appeared confused. “What do you mean?” she asked.
So many layers to peel away … How Holly will react, I can’t venture to guess.
“Conrad was lying to me from the start. Ned told me so because he had a crush on me and hoped we’d break up.”
“What did he say?”
“The night of Conrad’s engagement party, when we met, Conrad wasn’t just engaged to Elizabeth Ward—he was already married to her.”
Holly gasps. I can’t blame her. I’ve sat with that betrayal for years, and it still feels fresh. “I guess Ned got the inside scoop on the secret wedding from his father, Sidney. The Barefoot Beach Ball engagement party, all that wedding planning? It was just for show. The paperwork had already been signed. It was a done deal. Some financial arrangement between the families. And I found that out the same day I went to see Dr. Hill about my other problem.”
I keep it vague. Jade deserves to know the details of her story before anyone else. I owe her that. Thankfully we’re sisters. Holly gets me. Instinctively, she doesn’t press for more.
“I don’t blame Conrad for getting married,” I continue. “Maeve was a force of nature. And apparently the pressure was on because they were broke. Ned told me everything. Her first husband, Geoffrey, was a gambler who left the Carmichaels house-poor. Their life was an illusion—ritzy on the outside, shambles within.”
“Just like Miramar itself,” Holly says.
“Elizabeth was the ticket out. She was Conrad’s high school sweetheart with a big bank account, daddy issues, and a whole lotta insecurity. Maeve preyed on her. Everything was transactional with her. She could deliver Conrad to Elizabeth, and in exchange, Elizabeth would keep the family afloat. Maeve made her pitch. Conrad didn’t stand a chance. Some sons have no power when it comes to their mothers, even with a prenup like the one he signed. No Elizabeth, no money. The mortgage wouldn’t wait for a wedding. So they had a quiet civil service—with Maeve’s ‘blessing,’ of course.”
“Then you came along,” Holly says.
“Yeah, love at first sight,” I say sarcastically. “Great until someone wants you dead.”
“I still don’t understand what happened that night,” Holly says, her voice cracking. “I saw your body—I saw you being wheeled away on a gurney with a sheet over your head.”
“You saw what I needed everyone to see.”
Images from that night at the guesthouse hit me hard and fast. I can’t tell her more yet. The tears resurface, overwhelming me. The number of people I’ve hurt, all to save myself, is staggering.
I see Holly crying, too. Tentatively, I place an arm over her shoulders.
“I’m so, so sorry,” I manage to whisper.
“Me too,” she chokes out through her sobs.
“You? What could you possibly be sorry for?”
“It’s my fault,” says Holly, biting her lip, but she can’t stop crying. She takes off her sunglasses to wipe her eyes. “I should have been with you that night like you asked. If I’d only shown up when I said I would, none of this would have happened.”