“David! Stop!” But it was too late. Alice was falling over the side. There was barely a splash as she hit the water. By the time the two of them got to the edge, there was no sign she’d ever been there at all.
“Alice,” Orla called out, filled with instant, horrified regret.
“What do we do?” she’d cried to David. “We have to go find her.”
“She fell,” David had said, not moving.
“What are you talking about, David?” Orla looked at him uncertainly. “Alice,” she screamed then, panicking. “We have to find her.” She’d shoved David in the chest. Why was he not moving, not reacting? “What are you doing?”
He was frozen, looking out at the water.
“Alice?” Orla had screamed. She’d pointed the flashlight down into the water, and that’s when she saw Henry Wright in his little boat. He was holding her friend’s dress. At first she thought it was Alice. But then he turned his face up toward her, white as a ghost in the beam of the light, and Orla could see that all he had was a scrap of empty fabric. It shone from his hands.
Geoffrey had boomed out at them, “David? What are you doing here?”
“She fell,” David said, the lie so smooth and confident it had knocked the wind out of her.
Geoffrey’s mouth twitched as he did some mental calculus. Orla felt as though she could see him planning, projecting all the possible outcomes in front of him, and his face settled into something of a satisfied smile as he lifted his phone to his ear and stormed from the deck.
“Oh, David didn’t kill me,” Alice says now to Orla. “But you thought he did. And you covered for him.”
“I thought we paid you to stay far away.” David is sweating now, his face turned down in an angry scowl.
Orla spins toward him, sputtering in disbelief. “You knew? All this time you knew she was alive?”
“Dad’s men found her. She’d somehow made it to shore. They helped her start over,” he says, staring at Alice and ignoring Orla. In the light of the fishing lamp, Orla can see the sweat gathering on his forehead. “They helped her mother, too, in agreement that they leave it alone, and that they nevercome back.”
“Helped is a strong word for what you did,” Alice says. “You helped yourselves. You paid us all off.”
“You’ve been here all along, haven’t you?” Orla thinks of the paint inside the crawl space and the flashing lights she was sure she was hallucinating.
Alice smiles in admission.
“You signed an agreement,” David says, his voice rising into a whine. “It’s legally binding.”
“I planned to keep to my NDA. I really did. I’d just come up here to lurk from afar. But my plan changed when Faith told me about Gemma going missing. Then I knew I had to intervene. I couldn’t let you get away with it a second time.”
“You’re crazy. Totally fucking crazy. I should never have helped you.” David is holding his phone to his ear. “Pick up, pick up,” he mutters angrily.
“Where are you going?” Orla cries, pulling the phone away from his ear.
“I have to find my dad.” He shoves her off him and she falls hard into the corner, cracking her head on the low eave.
“No one wants to end up in prison for grooming children. No money can protect you there. But you don’t think you can go to prison, do you? Not David Clarke,” Alice says.
Orla pulls herself up from the floor in time to see Alice give him a rueful smile. “Oh, Geoffrey is long gone. Ran off on his yacht. See for yourself.”
Orla glances through the open door to the rounded hall window. It would have once framed a view of the mooring but is now completely empty, the waves illuminated by a crescent moon. David looks like he might be sick.
“Left you to take the fall, didn’t he? I guess Daddy doesn’t want to get caught doing something naughty.” Alice taps her chin. “It all feels familiar somehow, doesn’t it?”
“You shut up,” David roars, pointing his finger in her face. Alice blinks but seems unfazed by this outburst. Orla can tell that Alice is relishing this moment. Orla always knew her friend was talented and kind, but she realizes now that Alice is also so incredibly brave.
“What are you going to do? Warn him that I am here? And that I know what he’s done with little Gemma?”
“David? Is all this true?” A new voice comes from the doorway.
“Faith?” David calls out to her. “Are you okay? God, why are you soaking wet? What happened?” He says it in a tone that implies he thinks he might still be able to salvage this situation for himself. “We should go back to the house, get you cleaned up.”