Page 37 of Murder in the Lighthouse

“Because she was pregnant?” Brogan pressed, her voice urgent. “With me.”

Nigel hesitated before replying, “There were rumors like that. Yeah. Are you saying you think Britta was your mum and not Rachel?”

“I’m not saying anything. The DNA results prove there are no blood ties to Rachel Brinell at all.”

“I’ll be damned,” Nigel said. “That might explain a lot.”

“Like what?”

Nigel’s voice grew somber. “Look, Rory was drawn to Britta like a moth to a flame from the beginning, and their connectionwas undeniable. When Britta left, they stayed in contact with each other. Long phone calls well into the night. Difficult since Britta’s English wasn’t so great. After we finished the tour, he flew to Sweden to be with her.”

“Until I was born, right?”

“You’re getting way ahead of things, Brogan. He never specifically came out and told me he was about to become a father. Rumors were all I heard. I felt like he made the decision to go there because he was so hung up on Britta. But once he got there, he mentioned that Rachel was always around whether he liked it or not. She latched onto Britta like a third wheel. Rachel didn’t fit in with the rest of us. You could tell she came from a sophisticated, privileged world because she wouldn’t take no for an answer. Not even from Rory. She wasn’t down to earth like Britta. But Britta, for whatever reason, seemed to worship Rachel, an older woman who seemed more out of place for a groupie. While we were touring, your dad used to tell me how Rachel had influence over Britta. It ticked him off at times.”

Brogan listened intently, hanging on to every word Nigel relayed. It was as if, piece by piece, she was unraveling her own mystery that had been shrouded in darkness for too long.

“So what happened to Britta? I know Rachel ended up with me because she brought me back to Connecticut. I grew up there until that plane crashed when Rory swooped in and brought me to live with him in California. What happened to Britta?”

“I don’t know. That’s the truth. Maybe she gave you away to Rachel. Rory never told me what happened to her. I do know he was sad about it. That’s why none of us asked him about her. We knew you existed and figured the pregnancy rumor had more to do with Rachel than with Britta. Gordon and I figured he must’ve cheated on Britta with Rachel, and that’s why Britta left him in Madrid.”

“Jeez, didn’t anyone ever think to ask him straight out what happened to Britta? What was going on in his life? There’s a huge backstory here, Nigel, and it’s missing a second act, a middle that doesn’t make any sense.”

Nigel sighed. “If it’s any consolation, when Rory returned from Sweden, he was a changed man, at least to me. He seemed burdened and distant as if a storm cloud had settled over his heart and wouldn’t let go. Hence his penning the song ‘Waterfall.’ He acted like a part of him had been left behind somewhere. He and Rachel became like feuding warlords battling for turf. They had heated arguments over you. Oddly, Rory never seemed to win the battle, just a skirmish or two. Yes, he would fly back east to visit you. He would take you places and buy you expensive presents.”

“I remember a lot of those visits.”

“The thing is, after you were born, he never spoke about Britta to me. It was like she had become a forbidden subject, a ghost haunting every corner of his mind.”

Brogan absorbed Nigel’s words, her mind racing with questions and possibilities. “But I’m trying to figure out how Rachel ended up with me if Britta was the one who was pregnant. You see my dilemma?”

Nigel paused, choosing his words carefully. “I can’t say for certain, but I always sensed that there was something there that Rory didn’t want to get out to the world. He loved you unconditionally. That much was clear. But it was almost like Rachel had something on him.”

“That’s perceptive. Do you think she was extorting him? I do remember her threatening to go to the press to get her way. In truth, it was more times than not. She loved holdingitover his head—whateveritwas.”

“I want you to promise me that if you find Britta, you’ll tell me. You can’t leave me hanging like this. Deal?”

“Deal,” Brogan promised. “And Nigel, thanks for the information. Thanks for leveling with me.”

“I always told you after Rory died that I’d be there for you no matter what. I guess this is one of those times.”

After she hung up, She plopped beside Lucien on the sofa. “I’m with Nigel. This Britta angle might explain way too many of my childhood memories, all the nasty arguments, and the way the two of them pulled me in two different directions. The nasty things I remember Mom, um, Rachel, saying about him. The almost senseless relief after she died when both parties were no longer tearing me into pieces over the little things.”

Lucien nodded, his brow furrowed in thought. “It’s a lot to take in, Brogan. But at least now you have parts of the puzzle beginning to take shape.”

Brogan let out a heavy sigh, running a hand through her hair. “I feel like I’m seeing the light at the end of a dark tunnel. Why didn’t Dad tell me that Rachel wasn’t my mother? He might’ve mentioned it at some point.”

“Who knows why parents keep things from their kids?” Lucien relayed, concern evident in his voice. “We grew up with lies on both sides.”

“That’s true. But I need to find Britta,” Brogan said firmly. “I need to know the truth about my past, about why things unfolded the way they did.”

Lucien reached out and squeezed her hand gently. “You mean you need to know how Rachel ended up bringing a newborn baby back home from her European adventure. Is there any way she could’ve passed you off as belonging to her?”

“With Delia?”

“With everybody in her inner circle,” Lucien cited. “Would Delia have questioned her daughter about who was the real mother? Did Rachel make up a story about being Rory’s lover? Did she lie to Delia and a multitude of other people? If she did,Delia may not know the truth. She may have been hurt for real by your accusations.”

Brogan’s eyes went wide. “That’s a distinct possibility. I’ll fix it. But right now, I’m more concerned about how to find Britta. Without flying to Sweden, who do we know who speaks Swedish? Even an online search of Sweden’s vital statistics, or whatever it’s called there, will be in a foreign language.”

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