Page 81 of Is Anyone Listening?
"What?" John asked. "What are you thinking?"
"That Lily might have been the first girl to disappear from the inn, and maybe Ellen is responsible for that, too."
Chapter Nineteen
Finn and I left his parents' house a half hour later. When we got to our cars, Finn said, "I think we should keep talking, Cassidy. About Lily being the first one to disappear."
"It was a long time ago, and it wasn't like the others. I could be wrong."
"Or you could be right. The way your father left and the fact that he has never wanted you to have contact with your grandmother, he either thought she had something to do with his father's death or with Lily's death—maybe both. I can't think of any other reason he would have cut off all ties with his mother. Have you thought about asking him?"
"Only like a million times, but every time I have tried in the past, his reaction is stone-cold anger. Our relationship is so tenuous, I feel like if I do one more thing wrong, it will snap, and that will be it, and I won't have family anymore."
"Why is it so tenuous?"
"It's a long story."
"I want to keep talking," he repeated. "About everything, and I want a chance to talk to you about what happened with Tessa and Nathan."
"I thought you told me everything you knew about that."
"I thought I did, too, but maybe I missed something. I think we should go over everything again. You need an ally, Cassidy."
His words reminded me of Tyler, but I wasn't sure he was my ally now that he'd realized I'd kept a big secret from him.
"And I want to help you figure out what's going on at that inn," Finn continued. "This is my hometown. This is where my parents and sister live, where I have a business. If someone is hurting female tourists, then I want to stop them."
"You're the first person in this town to say anything close to that."
"Why don't we go to my apartment? We can talk freely there, better than if we go to the inn."
I hesitated, and his gaze shifted.
"You're afraid to come to my apartment.” he said flatly. "I guess I can't blame you."
"Is there somewhere we could talk that isn't your apartment? The beach, a garden, a park—maybe we could take a walk?"
"I know a spot. Follow me."
"Where are we going?" I asked as we walked to our cars.
He gave me a smile that made my heart skip a beat, and I had no idea what that was about.
"You'll find out," he said.
"Well, don't lose me," I told him.
"I won't," he said, his words seeming to have more meaning than they should have.
Finn led me through town and down a narrow road I hadn't noticed before. It wound along the coastline, away from the main tourist areas, until we reached a small parking lot near a weathered lighthouse. The white tower stood sentinel over rocky outcroppings that jutted into the sea, and a narrow path led down to a sheltered cove.
"This is beautiful," I said as we met up.
"It's one of my favorite places. Most tourists don't know about it. The main lighthouse is on the other side of town—bigger, more photogenic. This one's been decommissioned for years, but the town keeps it maintained." He gestured toward the path. "There's a bench down there where you can watch the water. It's peaceful."
We walked down the rocky path in silence. The wind carried the smell of salt and seaweed, and gulls squealed overhead, their cries echoing off the cliffs. When we reached the bottom, I saw what he meant—an old wooden bench sat on a flat outcropping, protected from the worst of the wind by the curve of the rocks.
We sat down, and for a moment neither of us spoke. The endless ocean stretched out before us, the waves rolling in with rhythmic persistence.
