“And what did it feel like, realizing you had family and a darker history down here?”
The warm breeze slaps my cheeks and my hair flies behind me. Shay looks out of place in her fancy clothes amongst the fishermen and tourists, but she doesn’t seem to notice.
“At first it was overwhelming but then everything slowly clicked into place. I understood her better—even before learning about Gaskins. I spent months helping her research, talking to victims and their families. I got to know her family—my family—and it put everything in tighter perspective.”
We get about midway down the pier and she stops, looking over the edge. “What’s going on down there?”
The right side of the pier is never quite as crowded as the left because it’s further from the parking lot. A few yards away is a group at the edge of the water. It’s mostly kids standing in the shallows, with large surfboards next to them. They’ve all got their attention focused on their instructor. He’s got my attention too.
Whit’s wearing a white Surf School T-shirt and red shorts, only accentuating his tan. We can’t hear him but he speaks animatedly. The kids are enthralled, well, all but one, and as he has them hop on their boards on the sand, practicing a few moves before they hit the water, one little girl doesn’t move.
Whit moves to her and crouches on one knee, speaking to her intently. I have no idea what he says but it works, and a moment later she’s joined the rest of the group.
“That guy’s got the touch,” Shay says, ready to move on.
“With kids?” I ask, a little flabbergasted by what I’d seen. Whit’s sweet to Sibley but not like Justin. I’ve never seen him so engaged.
“Anyone who can talk a kid down is impressive. I’ve got three at home—they can be little nightmares sometimes.”
I glance back over my shoulder and see that he’s now waist-deep in the water. “I don’t think talking to kids is Whit’s gift. I think it’s simply being in and near the water. It’s his happy place.”
“You know him?” she asks, suddenly interested.
“He’s a friend of the family.”
Her eyes slide down to the water and then back to me. We continue walking and I continue talking and before long, we’re back at the store. Anita has already locked up. Wow, we spoke for that long?
“Thanks for meeting with me today.” She flips through a small pad she’s been using to take notes. “We still have a fair amount to cover. I’m dying to know why you decided to come along last year on this trip, what made you interested in working with your mother on this case in particular?” She looks at her watch. “I’ve got to check in to my rental, but I thought maybe we could go on a drive tomorrow. See some of the locations from the interviews in your mom’s book.”
I wrinkle my nose. “I don’t know about that. Seems like something she may want to do with you.”
“I know and I agree, but with her schedule there’s not much time for us to meet while she’s here. I’ll be around for the party but after that, I’m on a deadline.”
“Sure, come by tomorrow then.”
“I’ll be over around ten.”
“Perfect.”
The instant she drives off, I start feeling regret. Did I say too much? Talk too much? I’m not a huge sharer. It wasn’t how I was raised—we’d always been private. Mom and I have been doing better but that whole thing was a lot.
My phone vibrates.
J—want to do something tonight?
S—I’m beat. Spent the day with the interviewer. Maybe tomorrow?
J—Yep.
I walk to my car, determined to just spend the night alone—settling my brain and preparing for another round tomorrow.
I’m snuggled under the blankets on my bed, binge-watching movies on my laptop, when I hear a rap at the door. It’s past ten and the trailer park and residents are quiet, so the arrival of a guest surprises me.
There’s only a tiny window to peek through, but from the tiny amount of light casting on my doorstep I see the sharp angle of Justin’s face and his hair.
“Hey,” I say, opening the door. “What are you doing here?”
He holds up a bag.