The Tides Of Memory - The Tides Of Memory Part 45
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The Tides Of Memory Part 45

Chapter Forty.

Summer Meyer threw her bag down on her bed, then lay down wearily beside it. She felt desperately tired, but not the kind of tired that would ever lead to sleep. Instead her body twitched with the restless exhaustion of the emotionally shattered. Staring at the ceiling, which was still half covered in glow stars from her childhood, she felt as wired and tearful as junkie in withdrawal.

I have to talk to Mom.

Arnie had told her in the car that Lucy had left on a hike this morning and wasn't expected back till late afternoon. "She's with Alexia."

This brought Summer up short. "What do you mean? Alexia's in England."

"Nope. She's with your mother."

"Dad, she's been all over the news in the UK. This business with Teddy. I saw her on TV."

"Yes, well, all I can tell you is she telephoned your mother and said she had something important to discuss with her. So important it couldn't be dealt with over the phone, apparently. She flew in last night."

This threw a major wrench in the works. When Summer confronted her mother, it had to be alone. She would tell Alexia, of course. Alexia had the right to know the truth about her son's relationship with her so-called best friend. But there was no way Summer could say what she had to say in front of an audience.

On the other hand, the idea of waiting until nightfall was unbearable. She already felt stretched to a breaking point. Six more hours and she'd be foaming at the mouth.

Not sure what else to do, she took a shower, brushed her teeth, and changed into cooler, more comfortable clothes: a pair of cutoff jeans and a thin cotton shirt from James Perse.

"You look cute, honey." Arnie smiled warmly as she came downstairs. "Shall I get Lydia to make us a late lunch?"

"No thanks, Dad. I couldn't eat."

"What do you mean you couldn't eat. You have to eat, Summer. Are you sure nothing's the matter?"

"I'm fine, Dad. A bit nauseous, that's all."

"You're not pregnant, are you?"

"Pregnant? Jeez, Dad, no! How could I possibly be pregnant?"

"Well, go sit outside, then, and Lydia will bring you out some cheese and fruit. You can manage that much at least."

Protest was clearly useless. Summer walked toward the kitchen door.

"Oh, by the way, your mom left this for you." Arnie handed her an envelope on her way out. "She asked me to give it to you as soon as you landed, but I forgot. Don't tell her, okay?"

"What is it?"

"Beats me. I usually find, with envelopes, the mystery becomes clearer when you open 'em."

In normal circumstances, Summer would have laughed at that. Now she took the envelope in silence and walked away.

Arnie Meyer thought, There's something wrong with that girl. What the hell's gotten into the women in my family today?

"Get up."

Lucy Meyer held the gun steady. Her voice was normal again, the same soft singsong that Alexia knew so well. All traces of her earlier hysteria were gone, replaced by a chilling calm. She means business.

Alexia stood up.

"You know, for someone so smart, someone who made it to the top of their game, you can be damned stupid sometimes."

"That's probably true. I-"

"Stop talking!" Lucy commanded. "I'm talking. Over there." She jerked the pistol in the direction of the cliff edge. Slowly, Alexia walked to where she was directed until she heard Lucy say, "Stop."

"I think the funniest part of all of this has to be you pointing the finger at Arnie. 'I'm not accusing him of anything.'" Lucy mimicked Alexia's accent perfectly. "That's just flat-out hilarious. As if you, YOU, who killed an innocent child, are in a position to accuse anyone of anything! You smug, entitled, self-righteous bitch."

"You who killed an innocent child." Alexia's mind raced.

"This is about Nicholas Handemeyer."

"That's right," Lucy said simply. "Nicholas Handemeyer. The little boy you left to drown. He was my brother."

Summer ran into the house, Lucy's letter still in her hand.

"Where did they go, Dad?"

Arnie was slicing bread at the kitchen counter. "Where did who go?"

"Mom!" Summer practically screamed. "Mom and Alexia! Where are they? We need to find them, now! Right now."

"Calm down, honey." Arnie rested a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know where they are exactly. Somewhere on the north of the island. What's the panic about?"

Summer handed him Lucy's letter. After a few seconds she watched the blood drain from his face.

"Jesus Christ," he whispered. "Call the police."

Summer was already dialing.

"But . . . your maiden name wasn't Handemeyer." Alexia spoke without thinking. As frightened as she was, her need to understand, to know the truth, was overpowering. "It was Miller."

"That's right. Very good," said Lucy. Finishing her bottle of drinking water, she dropped it on the ground. "Bobby Miller was my high school sweetheart. We married at eighteen. It only lasted six months, but I kept the name. Handemeyer held too many sad memories by then. Terrible memories." She lifted the gun again, shaking the barrel at Alexia like an angry fist. "Do you have any idea, any idea, what you did to my family? You and Billy Hamlin?"

Alexia said nothing. Her eyes were fixed on the gun.

"Nicko was the sweetest kid in the universe, so trusting, so darling. It broke us all when he died, but my mom . . ." Tears filled Lucy's eyes. "My mom was shattered. She never recovered. She killed herself two years later, on the anniversary of Nicko's death. Did you know that? Hung herself in our barn with Nick's old jump rope."

Alexia shook her head in mute horror. She remembered Mrs. Handemeyer from Billy's trial. Ruth. How dignified and gracious she'd been in the courtroom. How pretty she was, with her butterscotch hair and brown eyes, so like her dead son's. She tried to remember Lucy back then, but drew a total blank. There had been a sister at the trial, a girl clasping the mother's hand. But Alexia hadn't focused on her at all. She couldn't bring her face to mind now.

"Dad died less than a year after. His heart just cracked. You took everything from me. And you thought I was just gonna sit back and let you disappear, dance off into the sunset and live happily ever after, without paying for what you'd done? Of course, for decades, the longest time, I didn't know it was you. Like everyone else, I thought Billy Hamlin murdered my brother. He was the one I needed to punish."

"But Billy was punished," said Alexia. "He went to jail."

"Fifteen years? In a comfortable, safe cell with three decent meals a day? Are you kidding me? That wasn't punishment. That was a joke." There was no mistaking the loathing in Lucy's eyes. "I thought about shooting him in the head as soon as he got out of prison." Her tone was totally deadpan. "But that was way too swift and painless. Do you know how long it takes a person to drown?"

Alexia shook her head.

"No? On average. Have a guess."

"I don't know."

"Twenty-two minutes. That's twenty-two minutes of blind terror poor little Nicko went through, praying, pleading for someone to rescue him. No way was his killer gonna get a clean death. He had to suffer, the way my family suffered, the way I suffered. He had to know what it felt like to lose everyone he loved, to lose a child. So . . ." She shrugged. "I had to wait. I waited for Billy Hamlin to get married, to have a child, to build a business. The bastard had to get a life before I could start to destroy it, the way he destroyed mine."

Except he didn't destroy yours! Alexia thought desperately. I did. Poor Billy never hurt you, or your family. He never hurt anyone. It was all me!

Lucy went on. "I watched him for years and years before anything happened. And life went on in the meantime. Arnie and I married. I had Summer. We bought the estate here. But I never lost sight of Billy Hamlin. Not for a day, not for an hour. Anyway, the Lord must have been looking out for me and helping me. Because around the time Billy was released, I discovered that I wasn't the only one spying on Billy Hamlin. An Englishman by the name of Teddy De Vere was sniffing around him too. The PI I was using at the time was the one who first alerted me. If it hadn't been for that"-she smiled-"I'd never have found you. I'd never have gotten to the truth. 'And you will know the truth and the truth will make you free.' John, Chapter Eight. "

Alexia gasped. "The voice. The threatening phone calls. It was you!"

Lucy bowed theatrically. "You got there at last. Now, where was I? Oh, yes. Teddy. When I learned Teddy was in the private equity business, I found a way to set up a meeting between him and Arnie. I thought a business connection might help me figure out what this guy's interest was in Nicko's killer. But of course, it didn't. I had no idea, and in the end I gave up trying to figure it out. The rest you pretty much know. Arnie and Teddy became friends. Teddy bought the house on Pilgrim. And you and I met. You could say it was fate."

Alexia's skin tingled with adrenaline. It was an odd sensation, a combination of physical fear-Lucy's gun was still directed at her head-and intellectual excitement. Every word Lucy told her was like a puzzle piece slotting into place. A sick puzzle. A terrifying puzzle. But the satisfaction of solving it remained.

From her position on the cliff edge, Alexia could see the rocky path down to the cove more clearly. It was steeper than she'd first thought, and more treacherous. The only possible escape would be to return the way they'd come, through the moorland brush. But that would involve getting past Lucy and somehow disarming her before she had a chance to shoot. There was no way.

I'm trapped.

Bizarrely, this realization made Alexia relax. The certainty that she was going to die here, in this spot, emboldened her. She needed to know the truth, the whole truth, before she left this world.

"So it was you who drove Billy out of business?"

"Of course. That was just the start."

"And Arnie knew nothing about it?"

"Not a thing. I'm the primary shareholder in HM Capital, not Arnie. HM is short for 'Handemeyer,' by the way. I guess your little foray into Internet research didn't get you that far."

No. It didn't.

Somewhere behind them, in the moorland, a twig cracked. Both women froze. Alexia contemplated screaming for help, but she knew if she did that, Lucy might shoot. It wasn't death itself that frightened her, as much as dying before she knew the truth, before Lucy had finished her story.

"Down!" Lucy whispered, pointing at the shingle path with her gun.

"It's too dangerous," Alexia whispered back. "We'll fall."

Lucy released the safety catch on her gun with a faint but audible click. "Down," she repeated."

Alexia crawled toward the cliff.

Officer Brian Sullivan read the letter. He'd seen suicide notes before. But nothing quite like this. If any piece of Lucy Meyer's confession was true, any one piece of it, the Martha's Vineyard Police Department was way out of its depth.

He told Arnie Meyer, "We'll need help. Helicopters. Dogs. I'm gonna have to call Boston. You've no idea where they are, you say?"

Arnie shook his head helplessly. He was clearly still in shock.

"But it was somewhere to the north of the island?"

"Yes. Lucy knows those paths like the back of her hand, but it's a maze out there. Summer's already gone out to look for them, but I haven't heard from her."

Officer Brian Sullivan looked alarmed. "Your daughter went after them alone?"

"I couldn't stop her." Arnie Meyer started to cry.

Alexia lost her footing, gasping as the scree and talus crumbled beneath her. Instinctively she clutched at the rock face to her left. Behind her, Lucy Meyer did the same.

"Keep going!"

It was unnecessary advice. The "path" above them, such as it was, had already flaked away to almost nothing. Even if Alexia somehow overpowered Lucy, she'd have no way to get back up the cliff now. Once the tides rose, the cove would be flooded. The only way out would be to swim, but the currents on this side of the island were lethal.

Alexia tried not to think about it as she scrambled down the bank, falling the last ten feet onto the sand and twisting her ankle painfully. She let out a sharp cry.

"Be quiet!" hissed Lucy. Sliding down after Alexia, she landed comfortably on her feet, her pistol still clasped firmly in her hand. They were completely hidden from view now, tucked beneath the overhang of the cliffs. While Alexia shuffled backward, dragging her legs painfully across the sand, Lucy resumed her earlier monologue.

"By the time I was ready to act against Billy Hamlin, he was already getting divorced. He'd destroyed his marriage on his own. So the next thing to destroy was the business."

Alexia had her back against the cliff now, pressed to the smooth stone. Her ankle throbbed, but if she kept it still, the pain was bearable. She focused on what Lucy was saying.

"I figured I'd start small, then move on to the things and people Billy really cared about."

"Like Milo Bates?"

"Like Milo Bates."

"So you did kill Milo?"

"Not personally." Lucy smiled. "I weigh a hundred pounds. Milo Bates was a big man, bigger than Arnie. But I arranged his death, yes."

It was like listening to Teddy talking about Andrew Beesley's murder. Lucy seemed to have no remorse at all.

"But Milo Bates was completely innocent," said Alexia. "He had a family of his own. A wife and three children."

"DON'T YOU DARE PREACH TO ME!" Lucy roared. "No friend of Billy Hamlin was innocent. Bates knew about Billy's conviction. He knew what that bastard had done. But he still went into business with him." She took a few deep breaths, eventually regaining her composure. "Milo Bates's death was strike one. It was actually very easy. Even kidnapping Billy afterward, showing him the tape of what we did to his friend . . . Hamlin was so paranoid by then. A few phone calls, a little pressure on his business, that was really all it took. By the time he told the cops what we did to Milo, no one believed a word he said."

She said it with pride.

Alexia thought, You're insane. Completely insane.