Page 57 of One Last Secret

My blood runs cold. I turn to the two of them and see the same worry on their faces.

“Point Pinos Lighthouse,” Reyes says. “It’s ten minutes north of here. There’s a meadow just on the other side of the lighthouse near a shallow lagoon.”

“We’ll take your car,” I tell her. I meet her eyes and say, “This is your chance to redeem yourself.”

“Come on,” she says. “I’ll call ahead and have units meet us there.”

We run downstairs to Reyes’s waiting cruiser. A few neighbors are still gathered around, for the third time witnessing catastrophe at the eccentric artist’s house. Several of them ask what’s going on, but we ignore them and jump into the vehicle.

Reyes is off before we're even strapped in. As she speeds toward the lighthouse, she calls for backup in the radio. "I need units to Pinos Point Lighthouse, ASAP. We're looking for a Caucasian female, seventeen years old, dark hair, dark eyes, five-foot-two, around one hundred twenty pounds. My name is Celeste Holloway. She is possibly fifty-six, repeat, possible ten-fifty-six in progress. Get Harbor Patrol out there too."

“Ten-four,” a metallic voice replies. “All units, please respond to a possible ten-fifty-six at Pinos Point Lighthouse.”

“Will they get there before us?” I ask.

“I don’t know,” Reyes replies. “But I’ll sure as hell try to be the first one there.”

She guns the motor, and my head is pressed back into the seat. Reyes maneuvers like a racecar driver, weaving through the traffic that doesn’t have time to get out of our way and skidding around corners, tires screeching. Ahead of me, I see the lighthouse, a bright white-brick building sitting atop a tall promontory that juts out into the ocean.

“Come on,” Reyes whispers. “Come on.”

Hang in there, Celeste,I think to myself.Don’t give up.

We reach the lighthouse six minutes later. Reyes pulls off the road onto a meadow just on the other side of the lighthouse parking lot. The meadow is breathtaking. Marigolds, poppies and sunflowers blaze in bright oranges, yellows, reds and purples. It’s glorious. I can understand why Celeste would have chosen this spot.

It hits me rather poignantly that there’s nothing abstract about this beauty, nothing transcendent. It’s the simplest, most natural expression of beauty possible. One doesn’t need to wrack their brains for the essence of these flowers. It’s plain and obvious and easy to see. One need only look at them. Perhaps Celeste will look at them. Perhaps she’ll see them and remember that there’s something left that’s worth living for, that even when life seems bleak, there is joy to be had.

Reyes slams on the brakes, and the car comes to a stop right before a slope that leads down into the ocean. We get out of the car, and Reyes immediately cries, “Shit! God damn it!”

I follow her eyes and see the reason for her cry. My heart sinks to my chest. In the water, fifty yards past the shoreline, a figure bobs up and down on the waves.

We’re too late. Celeste has already begun her journey toward the vanishing point.

We try anyway. We sprint down the slope, shouting her name, begging her to come back. Reyes calls into her radio, asking where the hell her harbor patrol is, calling for the helicopter and asking for someone to please give her a damned ETA.

Sean outstrips me, tearing his jacket and shirt off as he runs. I see he intends to swim after her. I intend to follow him, but I feel something tear in the calf Lisa stabbed, and I fall to the ground with a cry of pain.

Sean skids to a halt and looks back at me. “Mary?”

“Go!” I shout. “Go get her! Please!”

He turns around and starts to run, but after a few feet he stops. His eyes widen, and a grin breaks out on his face. “Hell yeah! Yes! Go, Victor!”

I pull myself to my feet, grimacing and favoring my injured leg. I look for Celeste, and my own eyes widen when I see the reason for Sean’s cheer.

Ahead of me, just before the point where the shallow inlet vanishes into the ocean, Victor Holloway has reached his daughter. Tears of joy fall from my eyes as I see Celeste wrap her arms tightly around him. They embrace in the water for a long moment, then both of them swim back toward the shore.

A soft breeze blows in from the sea, and the flowers rustle, a soft cheer to the triumphant end of the story.

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

Victor sits on the couch next to his daughter, softly stroking her hair while she sleeps. She is freshly showered and in clean clothing, and the only sign that she’s spent the past twenty-four hours missing are slightly darkened circles under her eyes. Reyes stands in the foyer, watching the scene with a smile on her face.

There’s a great deal of pain in that smile. Her misstep earlier allowed Lisa enough time to hurt Evelyn. I imagine she will still be handing in her resignation once the paperwork for this case is completed. But Celeste and Victor Holloway are still alive. There is bitterness in this ending, but there is sweetness too.

I sit in one of the upholstered chairs, enduring the slight embarrassment of baring my left leg to the knee so Sean can bandage my wound. He gives me an irritated look and mutters something about “this crazy old bag.” I’ll scold him for it later.

Victor looks at me and smiles. “Thank you. For not giving up on her.”

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