As the dog wiggled and barked, Indigo turned to Tess. “We had a dog just like this when I was a child,” he said. “A white shepherd. My dad used to walk with him all over town.”
Tess’s heart did a flip. Joe had said as much during their lunch, which now seemed like a lifetime ago.
“I’ll never forget it,” Indigo went on. “My mother used to say he was sent to protect me. And he did. He stood between me and Grey . . . and the monster within him . . . more times than I could count.”
He scratched behind the dog’s ears.
“It was the damnedest thing,” Indigo continued. “The dog showed up at our back door during a snowstorm. Local legend had it that a white dog would appear to people in times of great distress. Like a guardian angel of sorts.” He chuckled. “But, of course, that’s just an old tale.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
La Belle Vie, 1970
Sebastian and Serena had been away in New York for an art opening and came home to what he could only describe as carnage. As soon as they walked into the house, he sensed it. So did Serena. Something was off. On instinct, he climbed the stairs to the studio.
And then, his world collapsed.
He saw his son, drenched in blood, smearing a bright-red stain onto the wall. Like a gash. Sebastian looked around in stunned silence for a moment. Utter disarray. Fresh canvases strewn about. He stepped into the bathroom and gasped aloud. It was covered in blood. A knife lay on the floor.
“I tried to wash it off the bathroom walls,” Grey murmured. “It wouldn’t come off. Permanently stained, I’m afraid.”
Sebastian walked back into the main room. “Grey, what in the name of God happened here?”
“I don’t know, Father,” Grey said, his eyes pleading, imploring his father for answers he could not give. He shook his head. “I woke up and found those.” He pointed to the stack of canvases. “And all of this.” He gestured wildly around the room.
Sebastian Bell gazed at the canvases, the paintings his son had created. He’d had such hopes for the boy, who displayed a talent even greater than his own. But dread and horror overcame him when he realized what these paintings depicted. The obsession. Fear seemed woven into the images.
Daisy, that poor girl. The father could barely make himself utter the words to the son.
“Did you kill her?” It came out as a harsh whisper.
Grey collapsed onto the floor, overcome by his sobs. “I don’t remember,” he managed to squeak out.
“Where is her body?” Sebastian hissed.
Grey continued to sob, the wails of the damned.
But he didn’t need to ask. The painting of the cliff told him all he needed to know. He grabbed his son by the collar and pulled him to his feet.
“Get yourself together,” Sebastian growled at him. “We’re going to fix this. As much as can be fixed.”
He hurried his son down the stairs, catching his wife’s eye as they went. She took a few steps toward them and opened her mouth to speak, but Sebastian shook his head. Their locked eyes spoke volumes to each other. Without even having to say it, somehow she knew. Her hands flew to her mouth as she watched them walk out the door.
As Sebastian drove toward the cliff, Grey seemed to slip into some sort of catatonia. He wouldn’t respond to his father’s questions. He just stared straight ahead, a slight smile on his face, a tear escaping from his eyes.
And then, they arrived.
Sebastian Bell stood on the cliff, just outside Wharton, his heart racing in his chest. He gazed over the side but saw nothing but the pounding waves. How could it have possibly come to this? That boy, his son, had been evil from the word go. He and Serena had both known that. Early on they didn’t want to admit it, but as Grey grew into a young man, it simply became evident. An undercurrent, always thrumming, wanting to get out. Sometimes, horrible times, it did.
But this? A sense of utter dread overcame Sebastian. If his son could kill the one closest to him, his beloved Daisy, what next? Where would he stop? Would he stop?
But it wasn’t his son. He saw that now. The boy’s eyes were black as night.
“Is this the spot?” Sebastian asked.
A low growl escaped Grey’s lips, then laughter. “She knew better than to leave me.”
But the voice wasn’t Grey’s. It was the monster’s. The side of Grey Sebastian’s other son called Mr. Hyde. The demon that had plagued his family since the day Grey was born.
And all at once, something overcame Sebastian. He saw the years of covering up misdeeds and abuses and hurts. He saw his dear wife, Serena, crying in anguish night after night. He saw poor Indigo, afraid and cowering in the face of his brother’s rage. And now this. Nothing was going to make this right again. Nothing was going to make his son right again. Was it even his son? Or was this a demon standing before him?