Five people had been arrested under the suspected murder of the Kim family, while one of those people had also been charged under suspicions for Damon Watts murder.
I remembered them hauling Makayla, Nyla, and Jace off the scene in handcuffs. Alongside them, an officer carried both guns into one of the cop cars with her. The gun we'd dug up, and the gun that could've become a murder weapon if we hadn't stopped it, was slipped into a little clear plastic bag.
It wasn't that long ago. Just an hour or two. But it felt like several hours had gone by.
"Julia? Seriously? Wait, no. I don't care about her. Are you OK!? Like all of you," Skylar shouted into the phone again.
I groaned and held my phone away from my ears. "Yes, Skylar. Julia and Jamie were brought in, in cuffs too. Both on the verge of tears. And yes, for the last time, I'm fine, Sky. I'll be home soon. I promise."
"Where's Andrew? And Camille? And everyone else?" she asked question after question.
"They're all still inside. Stop it, woman. Relax. You've giving me a headache," I said, huffing.
On cue, I glanced back at the doors. I didn't have much to contribute, so I lingered outside the station as soon as I was released, after giving a statement. At least, until my taxi got here. I needed to head over to Andrew's apartment complex for my car.
"What about that chick? Silvia? You know what, I'll just wait. You have to tell me everything when you get home. No exceptions. Okay? Trying to get killed in Baskerville. I can't believe you," she rambled on.
I rolled my eyes and hung up the phone while she was mid-conversation. She was going to chew me out later. But I'd have preferred if she did that in person, then over the phone.
The last I saw of Silvia was in the police station. When we had all been brought into for questioning, she told me she would come clean before she was put into a separate room. I thought I'd misheard her at first, but no. She was serious.
I couldn't think of any other reason she'd have had a change of heart last minute, except now that she knew Delilah hadn't told Jeremy, though Delilah still told Jace. Maybe this was her way of mending things. It wouldn't change anything, but it was a start for herself.
All that was left, was closure.
"Alright, let's get this over with. . ." My fingers hovered over my dad's caller ID. I'd been contemplating, telling him about everything that went down today, since I'd arrived. I still wasn't sure how the words would come out.
"Chastity!"
"Huh?" I glanced up. "Thomas?"
He had just jumped out of his car. His feet skipped along the sidewalk in my direction. Sweat dripped down his forehead. He was gasping for air. He looked as though he'd just run a marathon.
"Is Andrew still inside? Is everyone alright? We all heard about what happened. The news is running around town like crazy. You don't hear shit like this often in Baskerville," he said all in one breath.
"He's fine. They're inside. A few detectives are questioning them," I said, nodding.
"Thank God." Thomas let out a breath of air. He then walked closer to me.
Neither of us had said anything. I had one question rolling around in my head. Was this the right time to bring it up? Probably not. That hadn't stopped me from bringing it up anyways. I was too curious for my own good.
"Did you, um, hear about. . ."
"I'm done with her," he said it before I could say her name. "I don't care if she rots in that prison cell. She lied to me. She. . . S-she. . ."
I lowered my head and folded my hands together, my phone in between my palms. "It's okay. I understand. Take your time."
He closed his eyes and shook his head. "I guess I shouldn't be too surprised, huh? It's kind of my fault. It's almost like I can never do anything right. Could you believe that? I should have known. I'm an idiot. I. . . I just—"
"No," I said. "You're not an idiot, Thomas. Julia was using you. Abusing you. She even—"
"Harassed Delilah when I wasn't looking and Delilah didn't even tell me. I must be some friend if the girl I"—he cleared his throat—"if the closest girl in my life was too scared to tell me anything. I appreciate you trying to butter me up Chastity, but you can tell the truth. It's all my fault. She's probably so disappointed in me right now." He chuckled, a weak throaty sound. It was obvious he was no longer talking about Julia.
"I think she's proud of you. . . Thomas, you remind me of someone I know. My dad . . . he . . . you act just like him. He blames himself for everything. He takes all the fault, even when it's not his. You just, you know what? Here"—his eyes followed my hand to my arm as I shook the bracelet off—"take this. It belongs to you."
"What? Why are you giving me this? No, I want you to keep it. You found it! You've been keeping it safe and you—" he argued.
I hadn't given him a chance to finish.
"Thomas." I smiled and shook my head. "This isn't up for debate. Take the bracelet. I'm sure she'd want you to have it. Sure, I found it. But it was never mine." Placing the bracelet in his hands, I stepped aside.
He stared at it. I wasn't sure how long, but his eyes hadn't lifted for a while. I could've sworn I saw a glassy texture coating the surface of his eyes too. However, he closed his eyes and it disappeared.
"Thank you, Chastity. Seriously." His voice croaked. He cleared his throat again to rid the noise from his chest. "I'm going inside now. I'll catch you later. Be safe, Chastity."
"You too, Thomas. See you around," I said, then clicked on my phone again.
I was inches away from pressing the call button beside my dad's name when his caller ID appeared, with a loud ring. Shit, I forgot the old man could practically read my thoughts sometimes. Fucking creepy.
"Hey daddy!" I tried my best to sound upbeat.
"Little bits!" he greeted. But quickly paused. "What's wrong? Why do you sound so down?"
"It's just . . . it's been a long day. I'm tired." I shrugged, though he couldn't see it.
"Should I be worried?" he trailed off. The line went quiet.
I inhaled. "No, not anymore. It's taken care of."
"Chastity. . ." He used his dad voice. The one he'd use when he was about to scold me.
"I promise, daddy. I'm safe. You trust me, don't you?" He sighed but hadn't said no. So, I took that as a win. "Daddy, I think I'm ready to come home. I've spent enough time here, in Baskerville. It was fun while it lasted, but I think it's time."
"What? The summer has only begun!"
"I know, but I just think it's better this way. If I'm in with New York with you, you won't have to worry about me. You know?"
"Honey, are you saying that because you want to come home or because you think I need you at home?" The words got caught in my throat. I rolled my shoulders back, distancing the phone from my ear to clear my throat.
"Busted." He laughed. The noise was soft and carefree. For a sound so soft, it tugged at my heart too hard. "Who's the father and who's the child in this relationship? I'm starting to think you take care of me more than I take care of you." I imagined him shaking his head, mockingly.
If only he could see the tears blurring my eyes. He wouldn't have been laughing then. I forced the sniffles away, breathing in deeply. Two more laughs and his tone sobered up. I could hear all the reminisces of his laughter slipping away.
"Chastity, you don't need to take care of me. How old am I?"
"I don't know . . . pretty old," I joked.
He chuckled. "Exactly. Aren't baby birds meant to leave the nest? Live your life little bits. What do I always tell you? Don't be miserable just because you're worried that I'm miserable. The more you pretend to be happy here, the more I see that you're not . . . and that hurts me more. So, don't leave. Stay right where you are. It'd make me really happy if you did."
I waited a few beats before I answered. I didn't think my voice could handle anymore without cracking. "Do you . . . d-do you really mean that?"
"Don't I mean everything I say to you?" I hadn't needed to be there to see his smile. I remembered it the same. Cheeky, loving, warm. There was no place warmer than my father's arms. Because I was safe there. I always knew I was.
"Okay. . ."
"Little bits, are you crying over there?" he teased.
"Shut up, old man!" I laughed through my sobs. I wished I could stop crying. But the tears kept flowing and flowing. Even after I hung up.
* * *
There he was. His back was to me and he hadn't heard me approaching. I cradled the plastic bags in my hand, then placed them down on the wooden table of the lighthouse. After digging through the bags for what I was looking for, I began towards him. He still hadn't heard me coming.
"I thought you could use a friend." I tilted a bottle of beer Andrew's way. His eyes glossed over me for a split second.
During my drive to the lighthouse, I'd made sure to buy a pack. I knew he was here because Thomas told me. He had come here to think as soon as he was let go by the cops.
He forced a chuckle and grabbed it, flipping the cap off. "Thanks."
The sea brushed against the shores, the sun setting below the clouds. Its orange haze had begun resting over the beach. I'd expected the sun to set by now. We'd been out for hours of the day. 8:00 PM was just beginning to roll in.
I crouched down beside him, my butt hitting the stone step in front of the lighthouse's entrance he was sat on. "How's Camille?" It was the first thing I could think to bring up. I popped the cap on my own drink, a glass bottle of Coca Cola.
"She's falling apart. Just a . . . just a fucking mess." He threw his head back, guzzling the beer down. When he fixed his head back, he rotated the bottle in his hand. His focus was on the small round opening.
"Your dad know?"
"Another shitload on my plate I'll have to explain later. Camille wasn't in the right state of mind to explain anything to him when I drove her home." He took another drink. "So, he's expecting me to do it. I'm not even sure where to begin."
"Start with the truth," I encouraged.
"The truth." His breath fanned against my cheek. I'd noticed he turned his head. I did the same. "I need to thank you, by the way. For today," he continued.
"Oh, it was nothing—"
"No, seriously. You don't know how much relief you've brought everyone."
"Relief? I wouldn't call what I did today relief. A lot of people got hurt. Some almost got injured," I said.
"You're right. But a lot of stuff also came out that needed to be taken off people's chests. Like you said, the truth. I think we all needed that. Well, mostly Camille and them."
"Then . . . I'm glad I could help. Do you know what's going to happen to any of them?"
"Well, I don't know too much yet. Jace is looking at a long time in prison if found guilty. I'm thinking twenty-five to life. He did kill, not just four, but five people in general." Andrew shrugged.
"Any idea what the motive could've been for Damon's murder?"
"No idea." Andrew shrugged. "Last I heard, it might've been a dispute over money."
"Money?" I asked, frowning.
"Yep," Andrew said, popping the p. "I have no doubts in my mind that Jace was probably the last person Damon was in contact with before he died.
"All they need is a warrant then, right? They don't need to find the phone?"
"What? To retrieve all of Damon's outgoing calls, ingoing calls, and message receipts? I think so. They should have enough evidence, I think. And uh, probably enough motive. I don't know."
"So, maybe Jace is a little crazy, after all." I sighed. "And Makayla? Nyla? Julia? Jamie? What else will happen to them?"
"If they cooperate, they may be able to get a plea deal. Well, I don't know about Jamie. He did tamper with evidence. He probably doesn't have a job anymore now. I know for sure; Makayla and Nyla will testify against him. I don't really know what's going on with Julia.
"As far as that goes. And you know, Makayla did just try to murder someone today . . . so we'll have to see how that goes. I don't know, honestly, but I'm hoping for the best in all of this. I'll have to focus on Camille for a while. My dad is keeping her on suicide watch."
"Has she, um, tried it before?" I felt odd letting those words leave my mouth.
"Once," was his straight-forward response. I left it at that.
"So, what about you? What do you plan on doing from here? I wouldn't be surprised if we scared you off," Andrew said.
His head was facing forward again. I followed his eyes to the shoreline.
He continued, "This town probably has more drama than you bargained for. I remember you saying things weren't so good back home. That's why you left."
"About that." I laid my open soda on the floor. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Huh?" His head whipped around so fast; I could've sworn he caught whiplash.
"I'm staying," I said.
"You're staying," he repeated.
"I'm staying."
A slow grin ate at his face. It was the most genuine thing I'd seen in the last few hours. No pain, no agony, no suffering—just a safe haven of happiness where we could relax and forget about the world for a moment.
I still couldn't believe it myself. Sometimes, I wondered where I would have been if I hadn't come here. If I had turned down Skylar's invitation to room with her for the summer. And if I hadn't found Delilah's bracelet.
I'd learned a lot of things these past few weeks. About myself and those around me.
One thing was that not everyone thrived off secrets and lies, like I'd imagined. It was the secrets and lies who thrived off people, killing them inside.