Chapter 14 — The Cottage in Maine
The police wanted Lena to stay in Boston.
She agreed.
Then she drove to Maine with Priya in the passenger seat.
Richard followed in another vehicle with two state investigators.
The cottage stood near the edge of a rocky cliff.
The front door was open.
Inside, the rooms were empty except for a dining table set for two.
Two cups.
Two plates.
A vase of white roses.
Lena recognized the arrangement from the gala.
A cassette recorder sat in the center of the table.
She pressed play.
A woman’s voice filled the cottage.
“You have Evelyn’s eyes.”
Lena felt every hair on her arms rise.
“I wondered how long it would take Richard to tell you the truth.”
Priya searched the rooms.
The recording continued.
“Your mother believed evidence was enough to defeat people like us. She was wrong.”
Lena looked through the window.
A figure stood near the cliff.
An elderly woman wearing a cream-colored coat.
“Priya.”
They ran outside.
The woman did not move as they approached.
Vivian Caldwell was seventy-eight years old.
She had Celeste’s eyes.
“You came,” Vivian said.
“Did you kill my mother?”
Vivian smiled faintly.
“No greeting?”
“Did you kill her?”
“Your mother drove too fast on wet roads.”
“You were following her.”
“I was protecting my daughter.”
“From an accountant?”
“From disgrace.”
Priya stepped forward.
“Vivian Caldwell, you are under arrest.”
Vivian lifted one hand.
A red light blinked from a device in her palm.
Richard emerged from behind the cottage.
Vivian looked at him.
“You built beautiful hotels, Richard.”
“What did you do?”
“I made certain the cottage would not outlive me.”
Smoke began rising from the windows.
Gasoline had been spread throughout the building.
But the cottage was not empty.
A muffled scream came from inside.
Walter’s voice.
May you like
Vivian had taken him again.
And the flames were already climbing the walls.
