“I didn’t start the fire,” Sydney said sharply.
“I never thought you did.” Her dad pulled back and ran a hand through his thick hair. “I’m just sorry I wasn’t here to tell the officers that myself.”
Sydney stared blankly at this distraught man, searching for signs of a twisted killer. But in his concern, all she saw was a dad. A dad who used to take her to catch butterflies and jump waves. Who taught her how to throw a ball, and laughed when she threw it right into his chest. Sydney squeezed her hands into fists. “Where were you, Dad? Why didn’t you answer any of Mom’s calls?”
Her dad looked around furtively, and in that second, Sydney’s blood froze. “Where were you?” she repeated, tenser this time.
Her dad pulled something out of his pocket. It was a small box, not so different from the one that had held Tenley’s lock of hair. Sydney’s muscles spasmed. She took a step back, ready to flee.
Her dad opened the lid.
Sydney blinked. A gorgeous diamond ring glittered inside. “I was in Boston,” her dad said. “Buying this for your mom.”
“You’re proposing?”
“Reproposing, technically. But, yes, I’m going to ask your mom to marry me again. A new ring for a new start.” He touched Sydney’s shoulder. “If I have your permission, that is.”
“My permission?” Sydney repeated dully. All at once, the old memories of her dad popped: Bam! Bam! Bam! In their place rose new memories, hovering large and glossy above her. Her dad with Emerson. Her dad keeping Meryl Bauer’s skirt as if it were some kind of prize. Her dad receiving a breakup note from Kyla Kern.
She’d been trying so hard to listen to her gut—to hold on to the belief that her dad was innocent. But it was becoming harder and harder to remember why.
“I know the truth, Dad,” she said slowly. “I know about all of them. Not just Emerson, but Meryl, Kyla, your whole high school girl trophy box.” She glared up at her dad, and the ring box slipped from his grip, landing with a light bounce on the Berber carpet. He knelt clumsily to retrieve it.
“I—” he began.
“I’m not done,” Sydney said tightly. If she stopped, even for a second, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to start again. “As I said, I know about the girls, Dad, and I do mean girls. But what I don’t know is just how far it went.” She took a deep breath, then forced out the question. “Did you kill Meryl Bauer? Or Kyla Kern? Did they have to pay for breaking your heart?”
“What?” Her dad bolted up, the ring box gripped tightly in his fist. “You think I hurt someone, Sydney? And what are you even talking about? Meryl and Kyla weren’t murdered. It’s this town—the curse—that killed them. How could you think I…” He trailed off, tears choking up his words. “I know I’ve made huge mistakes. Believe me, Syd, I’ve lived in shame for years. But I’m done with that now,” he added forcefully. “I’m getting help. I’ve been going to therapy sessions nearly every day, and I’ve been working hard to make amends with your mom. I want to be with my family—with your mom and you. To be the father you deserve.” A tear worked its way down his cheek. “How could you think I killed someone, Syd?”
Answers fought for space on her tongue. “You dated almost every Lost Girl, Dad. Meryl, Kyla, and Emerson—Caitlin’s best friend. I’ve heard theories that their deaths weren’t such accidents. And here you are, connected to each of them.”
“I didn’t date Kyla,” her dad said, shaking his head. “I did try. I tried with several girls over the years. But Kyla wasn’t interested.”
“But that letter in your box,” Sydney protested.
“You mean the one where she told me to stop calling? That was her rejecting me.” He smiled ruefully through his tears. “She was a strong girl. I still remember how I found out that she’d died. I was in San Francisco at a fire chief–training seminar. Bob Hart called to tell me.”
“You were in California the weekend she died?” Sydney whispered. “Fall Festival weekend?”
Her dad nodded. “Other side of the country from Echo Bay. Lots of witnesses to prove it, if you’d like.” She could tell he’d meant it as a joke, but it fell flat.
“When Bob told me…” Another tear rolled down her dad’s cheek. “I had to pretend it meant nothing to me. But the truth was, it made me feel like I was the one who was cursed. First Meryl, then Kyla. It was almost like I was being punished for my indiscretions. It was enough to shake some sense into me for a long time. I didn’t slip again until recently, with Emerson—” He broke off, shaking his head. “And now it seems like I’m being punished for that, too.”
Sydney leaned against the wall, fighting to think straight. Her dad couldn’t have killed Kyla. And if the darer was responsible for Kyla’s death, then he couldn’t be the darer. Relief surged through her, followed by something else. A thought. It was something her dad had said: punished for my indiscretions.
It was what the darer was doing, wasn’t it? Seizing onto their worst mistakes, their deepest flaws, then making them pay for them.
Was that what had happened to the others, too? What secret had the darer lorded over Kyla? And Delancey?
“Listen, Syd.” Her dad’s voice drew her out of her thoughts. “I’m going to keep this ring hidden for now, until you’re ready. We’ll do this on your time frame. I want us to be a family again, but for that to happen the right way, we all need to want it.”
Sydney looked up at her dad. The old images were reappearing, faded but there, like a photograph left out in the sun. Her dad telling her that she deserved to go to Winslow, that he’d find a way to make it happen. Her dad dropping her off on her first day, hugging her so tightly she could hardly breathe. “Thank you,” she whispered.
Her dad nodded. “Now I’m going to go apologize to your mom that my phone was off. You coming?”
The thought of being cramped in her apartment right then made Sydney want to bang her head against the wall. Besides, it sounded as if her parents could use some time alone. “You go ahead. I’m going to drop by the hospital to see how Tenley and Emerson are doing.”
Her dad paused. She could tell he had more questions—what Emerson and Tenley had been doing in his house in the first place, for one—but after a few seconds, he shook his head. “Be careful” was all he said.
The wind drummed a steady rhythm against the roof of her car as she pulled out onto the street. The temperature had dropped drastically since the day before, and she switched on the heat, the familiar rattle of the system soothing in the face of the wind.
She braked at a red light and looked over at the beach. The wind powered the waves, sending them tall and white-tipped toward the sky. The sun was setting earlier and earlier lately, and it was already dusk outside. The water was a steely blue in the dimming light. The ocean used to be so soothing to her. Now, when she looked at the waves, all she felt was fear.
Flash.
Sydney bolted forward so fast that her forehead nearly banged against the windshield. She could swear she’d just seen it: five ghostly tendrils of light flashing across the darkening sky.
She held absolutely still, not wanting to break the spell. And then it was there again, like silent fireworks: five lights glowing over the waves. The ghost lights.
Sydney whipped her car around, making her tires squeal loudly. If the lights were fake, that meant someone was up on Dead Man’s Falls right now, fabricating them. She sped to an inlet down the street. She’d never make it all the way to Dead Man’s Falls in time, but she had a direct view from there. She grabbed a camera she’d left in her car and zoomed all the way in. Dead Man’s Falls came into focus in the viewfinder. Tall, craggy rocks. A sharp, sudden cliff. And a man.
She gasped.
The man turned away—too fast for her to catch on camera. He was climbing up the cliffs now, higher and higher, and soon he melted out of sight. But it didn’t matter, because she’d gotten a glimpse.
He was tall and pale, with broad shoulders and curly blond hair. Sydney had never seen him in person before, but she’d seen him in pictures. She’d seen him on the news.
It was Sam Bauer, Calum’s dad.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Sunday, 5:30 PM
Night had fallen in Echo Bay. The darkness turned the wind menacing: invisible mouths howling into the night. “Octo-storm is coming,” Emerson said grimly. After half a day in the hospital, Tenley knew she should be home right now, recuperating in bed. If her mom realized she’d sneaked out, she could only imagine the screech that would fill their house. But when they were trapped in Matt’s room, they’d finally seen a purple door. They had to check it out.
They hit a bump in the road, and Tenley grimaced. It wasn’t just her leg that ached anymore; after the fire and their escape out the window, her whole body hurt. She was crisscrossed with scrapes, bruises, and burns. But at least she was alive. She sped the rest of the way, pulling over on Matt’s block. On the other side of the street stood the house his apartment was in. Or what was left of it. The roof had caved in and the windows had been blown away, leaving gaping holes rimmed with soot. The once pretty yellow facade was now charred and black.