Page 62 of Echoes at Driftwood Cottage

“And Scott showed her the headstone.”

“I’ll ignore that last comment. But from where I stand, it looks like the Dewhursts were prepared to protect their secret at any cost. Lynette could’ve gotten rid of these, cleared out this locker, but she didn’t.”

Rowan stood outside the shed with Eastlyn, listening, jolted by the notion that the man she’d known as her grandfather might’ve been involved in something as sinister as murder. “If there’s an innocent explanation, why would he need all these guns?”

“That’s what I aim to find out,” Brent said, collecting the weapons and handing them off to Eastlyn. “Get these to the lab. Tonight. If my hunch is right, one of these is our murder weapon. Make sure the ballistic techs know these are connected to the remains at the cemetery. Make sure they know to let Muriel Strafford in on the results as soon as they get them.”

“You got it.”

Turning to face Rowan, Brent rubbed his forehead. “I need to make sure you understand that when Gwynn slips away, I’ll need to order an autopsy on her. I’ve already left orders with the attending physician and the staff at the nursing home.”

Puzzled, Rowan murmured, “Okay. Why?”

“That, I can’t say. Not now anyway. Just know that I took her DNA for a reason. After I get the results back, I hope to start piecing together the puzzle and see if it leads me back to this house, back to this shed, and all these weapons. As of now, this shed is off-limits. I’m locking it down as part of the crime scene.”

“What about the house?” Daniel asked. “Rowan was getting ready to have the guys at Tradewinds paint in there.”

“Don’t,” Brent cautioned. “Put it off for now until I tell you otherwise. We might have to do an in-depth search of the house at a later date. It could get messy.”

Daniel wrapped his arm around Rowan as they made their way back inside the house, the weight of the discovery heavy on their shoulders.

“I feel like I’m in a bad dream,” Rowan remarked. “Can you believe my grandfather could be a murderer? And what’s this about Gwynn having an autopsy after she dies? What’s that all about?”

“Brent seemed intent on following a hunch.”

“He did, didn’t he? I’m not sure what he thinks he’ll learn from an autopsy. She took an overdose of something, probably heroin or meth.”

“But which is it? Heroin would likely have killed her on the spot. Overdoses cover a wide range of things. What type of drugs bring on a massive stroke? Keep in mind your grandfather wasn’t around eight years ago when Gwynn had hers. That’s the only reason he’d call for an autopsy at this late date. ”

Just inside the doorway, Rowan came to a stop. “Oh, my God, you’re right. It never occurred to me to question it.”

“Do you remember the circumstances surrounding the overdose?”

“Not really. I was twenty, at school in San Diego, and got a call from Gran telling me that Gwynn had finally taken something powerful enough to overdose. By the time I arrived in town, the doctors had told Gran that Gwynn was better off at Sage Crossing. She was in a coma, a vegetable basically, and would never recover. Gran apparently had decided to take Gwynn off life support at the hospital. But to everyone’s surprise, Gwynn started breathing on her own. Hence, the nursing home. Wow. Now, all this makes me wonder if Lynette Dewhurst knew how to handle a firearm.”

Daniel chewed his lip before adding, “And knew exactly what to give Gwynn to send her over the edge.”

That night, sitting up in bed, knees hugged to her chest, a restless Rowan racked her brain, trying to dredge up any memories that could be relevant to the case. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, trying to focus on the memories buried deep, maybe something she’d suppressed.

She could still hear Gwynn’s voice in her head, droning on about how life had cheated her out of certain things. As long as she could remember, Gwynn had wanted nothing more than to escape her small backwater town and explore the world.

“She was never happy,” Rowan told Daniel who had stretched out beside her on the bed with his elbow propped up on the pillow. “It seemed she wanted to be anywhere other than Pelican Pointe, doing something other than playing the role of mother. She always talked about a place called the Celestial Planet or something like that.”

“Wasn’t that an herbal tea?” Daniel piped up.

She swatted his shoulder. “I don’t think it had anything to do with tea. The trouble is I don’t remember exactly what she was referring to.”

“Let’s look it up online,” Daniel suggested, flopping over and reaching for his laptop on the nightstand. “It could be a nightclub or a bar somewhere in San Mateo County.”

As Daniel’s fingers flew over the keys, Rowan still tried to focus on the past. “I do have a faint memory of Gwynn getting into a heated argument with a man who slapped her once. But it’s just bits and pieces. The man was pissed off at her for some reason.”

Rowan shut her eyes again, trying to focus but it was no use. “I can’t remember anything specific.”

“You were four,” Daniel pointed out. “It’s a rare thing for a child that young to remember anything in detail that far back. Studies have shown that memory starts between three and four years of age. You were just too young to recall anything significant. Ah. Here we go. Circa 1999, could she have been referring to the Celestial Moon Commune outside Redwood City, a hippie hangout, located thirty minutes west of town near Kings Mountain? Here’s an interesting tidbit. The Celestial Moon was located halfway between Redwood City and Half Moon Bay smack dab in the middle of a redwood forest.”

“Is the commune still there?”

“Apparently not. The land has been snapped up by millionaires. It was an unincorporated area anyway. But this article says the farm was sold off and the commune dissolved around 2004 or 2005. They aren’t sure which. The sheriff’s department went to serve a warrant and found the place abandoned. No one had lived there for ages. Where rustic cabins used to set, now million-dollar homes are owned by some of Silicon Valley’s wealthiest tech giants.”

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