The Last Sister Page 50

“Remembered what?”

“I think Dad took me to some of those meetings. I didn’t know what they were.”

The wind in the trees was the only sound.

“I think everyone knew but us,” Madison said softly. “It doesn’t matter now. Come on.” She took Emily’s arm again. “We’re almost there.”

The cracks of two gunshots echoed through the forest.

35

Zander’s headlights lit up three vehicles at the park gate, including Madison’s car and a Mercedes that he recognized from Tara’s home.

She is here.

He didn’t know the third car. He called Sheriff Greer.

“Greer.”

“It’s Wells. Can you run a plate for me? I’m on the road.”

The sheriff grunted. “Give me a minute.”

“Has Billy said more?” Zander asked.

“Sticking to the same story. I had two deputies go pick up his brother, who is just fine, by the way, and thinks Billy is full of shit. Okay. Give me the plate.”

Zander rattled off the plate.

“That’s Harlan Trapp’s vehicle. Where are you?”

A million questions burst in Zander’s head.

Did Harlan follow Emily?

Nate Copeland’s dead body filled his vision, quickly followed by Harlan Trapp and the sheriff in the old photo of men.

Who can I trust?

From a distance two shots were fired, and he flinched, his throat going dry. Emily?

“Where are you? Who’s shooting?” the sheriff roared.

Zander made a decision about trust as he grabbed his tactical vest for the second time that day. “I’m on Seabound Road at the gate. It’s locked. Emily and Madison are inside somewhere, and I assume Harlan is too. I don’t know who fired the shots.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Sending deputies now.”

“Tell them I’m heading inside.”

The sheriff paused. “I will.”

Zander glanced at the Mercedes as he fastened his vest.

Why is Tara here?

He bent, stepped between the gate’s bars, and silently ran up the road, listening hard, expecting more gunshots. The wind and the smell of the ocean grew stronger as he covered some distance. He didn’t know exactly where he was going, but he figured he’d know it when he got there.

There were no turnoffs or footpaths leading from the road—that much he could see in the dark. He didn’t use a flashlight, preferring not to draw attention or gunfire toward himself.

The roar of another shot made him drop to the ground, his heart hammering.

A man was yelling, but Zander couldn’t make out the words.

He jumped to his feet and continued his trek.

“She didn’t jump, she shot herself!” Emily gasped as the sound of the two shots faded away.

“Maybe whoever parked the second car at the gate fired the shot—maybe it’s kids fooling around,” Madison said in an uncertain tone. “It could have nothing to do with her.”

That explanation wasn’t good enough for Emily. She broke into a run, and Madison followed.

“You thought I would trust you?”

Emily slammed to a stop as Madison grabbed her arm. There was no mistaking the fury in the male voice up ahead.

“Who is that?” Madison whispered.

“You thought you could lure me to this place and shoot me?” A roar of laughter followed.

Emily knew the laugh and voice but couldn’t connect them with a face.

“I’ve been searching for you for years, you fucking bitch!”

“That’s Harlan Trapp,” Madison whispered, her nails digging into Emily’s arm.

“I don’t understand.” Emily’s brain spun.

“He’s yelling at Tara.”

His words sank in.

Harlan has been looking for Tara for years. Tara was scared of someone hurting her . . .

Pieces snapped together in her mind.

“Could Tara have left because someone threatened her life? The only thing worth hurting someone over is if they witnessed . . .”

Tara running through the woods the night Dad was killed.

“Maybe she saw who killed Dad . . . Could it be Harlan?” Emily’s instincts fought against her conclusion. She’d known Harlan Trapp all her life.

“Come out, come out, come out, little girl!”

He was hunting Tara, his words echoing through the forest. “She must still be alive,” Emily said in hushed words.

“And hiding,” finished Madison. “We should do the same before he spots us.” She turned off her phone’s flashlight, and Emily powered hers down, the screen buttons unusable.

The two of them moved off the narrow road and into the trees. Emily’s eyes finally adjusted, and she could see the hazy shape of Madison’s face.

“You thought you could pull a gun on me? Me? I’m the fucking mayor!”

The women slowly crept through the trees, keeping the road in sight and watching for Harlan or Tara. The road widened and fed into a small parking lot. Emily had visited only two or three times since she nearly slid off the cliff as a child. Each time she’d stayed far from the overlook fence, nausea heavy in her stomach. The big metal swing sets, tetherball poles, and slides from her childhood were still present, the swings swaying with the wind, the chains of the tetherballs clanking against their poles.

Harlan paced at the far end as he yelled, a faint silhouette against the dark sky.

“You’re a whore!”

“I think he’s between us and Tara,” Emily whispered. “Now what?”

“Wait for the police.”

“What if she’s hurt? I don’t even hear sirens yet!” Stress built in Emily’s shoulders.

“Maybe they thought sirens would spook someone who might be considering suicide,” Madison whispered.

“Who the fuck knew two sisters could cause me such problems?”

“Two sisters? Who else? Me?” gasped Emily.

“You were shot at yesterday,” Madison hissed. “I bet he was trying to clean up his mess. First Nate Copeland and then you.”

“But why would he kill Sean and Lindsay?”

“I don’t know, but right now all I care about is that my sisters are on his list. We need to get out of here.”

“I’m not leaving Tara.”

“We can’t help!” Madison said in a low voice.

A faint siren finally sounded. Help was coming.

“That took long enough.” But it didn’t give Emily the relief she needed.

Harlan heard it too and let out a string of profanities. “Your family is the rot in this town! Your father was the worst of all!”

“Look!” A black shape crawled along the ocean side of the parking lot. Emily dropped to her knees to see the person’s form against the dark sky. She yanked Madison down beside her.

Tara.

“She’s dragging. She’s hurt,” she whispered as she watched Tara lower herself flat to the ground and roll under the overlook’s fence at the edge of the park. Harlan continued to pace and shout a dozen yards from where she’d seen Tara vanish. “She went under the fence.”

Madison swallowed audibly. “There are some places to hide safely on the other side.”

“One loose rock and she’s gone.” Emily shuddered, remembering the terror of clinging to the cliffside rocks.

The place where Emily had nearly lost her life.

“If we backtrack a bit and cross the road, we can follow the fence on its other side until we reach Tara,” she told Madison. “He probably won’t see us.”

“No! There’s a reason for that fence. We both know how unstable that ridge can be.”

“But we can get her out. We can crawl back.”

“Wait for the police!”

“But what if she’s hurt?” Tara’s dragging movements hadn’t left Emily’s thoughts. “Minutes could mean the difference between life and death if she needs a tourniquet or something.”

“You’re crazy,” Madison hissed.

“I’m going.”

“Dammit! Fine. I’ll go meet the police,” said Madison. “They should know what they’re walking into. Be careful.”

Emily jogged back through the woods until she couldn’t see the parking lot and then crossed the road to the trees on the other side. She wound through them until she spotted the fence. She estimated it was nearly fifty yards to reach the spot in the fence where her sister had vanished. Her head threatening to split with pain, Emily went under the fence and started to crawl, the surface treacherous with roots and loose rocks. The slope had several deadly steep areas, but if she stuck close to the fence, it was flat enough.

Sweat formed along her spine at the thought of being spotted by Harlan, but he was focused on searching the other side of the park.

Her hair blew around her face, and the poor light along with the crash of the waves far below made her wobble.

Harlan continued to rant. His shouts would get closer and then move away as he changed direction, his voice often hard to hear over the roar of the ocean.

Anxiety and strain fueled his words; the police had to be close. The sirens had stopped, making Emily assume they’d reached the gate. They’ll walk up the road, right? The park hadn’t opened for the spring yet, and she doubted the police had contacted the parks department for a key.

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