Page 22 of The Glass Dolphin

She hoped those closest to her could see those same strong qualities in her.

“I love you, my chickens,” Mom said, and that made everyone laugh. She hadn’t called them that for such a long time, but the words brought back such a sense of nostalgia for Clara that emotion choked up her throat.

“I’m grateful to be here with you,” Theo said diplomatically. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Clara nodded, and the mood loosened now that the emotional, hard things to say were out. Hard for her, at least. She wasn’t sure what other people had a hard time saying.

They tucked into dinner, and the silence that came from eating good food never bothered Clara. Then her mother said, “Oh, dear.” She scrambled to her feet, her gaze flying from her phone. “We have to turn the news back on.”

She hastened to do it, and Clara checked her phone. They were on the same group text, but she hadn’t gotten anything that would alert her. Mom switched the TV back on while Clara’s heartbeat dove through her body—and not gracefully.

The picture showed a young reporter standing in front of the still ruined windows of The Glass Dolphin. The police had roped it off, and they’d even put an officer there around the clock to prevent looting and more damage. There hadn’t been any incidents since the vandalism that had happened almost six nights ago now.

Someone had boarded up the windows to prevent weather damage, and the speculation around the restaurant and its fate had grown to proportions that even Clara, as a self-proclaimed drama-lover, had to walk away from.

“We’re on?” she said.

“Yes,” a male voice said, and because Clara had been listening to the news before she’d turned it off to start dinner, she knew it was the in-studio anchor. “Go ahead, Ophelia.”

“Welcome, everyone who’s joining us for this breaking news,” Ophelia said. “Everyone in Five Island Cove has likely heard about the vandalism that took place a handful of evenings ago, right here at the acclaimed, new restaurant, The Glass Dolphin. This popular place to grab lunch with friends or enjoy a fancier anniversary dinner has been the buzz around town since it opened last spring. But there’s been a new discovery after the vandalism that brought a group of concerned Covers out of the shadows.”

She’d been walking slowly along the sidewalk in front of the yellow tape, and the last shot of her included the on-duty police car. Now, the picture switched to something else—something a graphic designer had most likely made.

“The group, which refuses to take a name for themselves, is concerned about the implosion of tourism and recent additions to the islands that make up Five Island Cove,” Ophelia said as a voice-over. “They claim that rental space is almost gone, prices have increased dramatically for locals, and that there’s simply not enough room on the islands for everyone who wants to come here. Businesses and commercial zoning has been largely ignored, something Mayor Sherman has vowed to address in the New Year.”

The picture switched again, this time to a map of Five Island Cove, the dots out in the sea of blue mere nubs in Clara’s vision.

Her tongue felt stuck to the roof of her mouth. She could handle contention, but she didn’t like willingly inviting it into her home. Scott loved the headlines, and he often told her what was going on in the world.

“Some have wondered if The Glass Dolphin sat on ancient, Native American lands. Rumors have flown from here to the mainland, where even national news stations have picked up the story. But we’re here to show you first…what the police department found when they searched this site after last Monday night’s attack.”

The screen went black, and Clara wanted to cry out that they couldn’t stop there. What had the police found? Had Eloise known and not been able to say anything? Laurel?

They were both married to cops—the two top-ranked cops on the island—and they’d been silent.

Suspiciously silent, Clara thought.

“This is not good,” her mother said, her phone clutched in her fingers.

Maddy had also left town for her scheduled vacation with her new fiancé, but she had basically given no details and said nothing about the vandalism at the restaurant. Clara hadn’t found it strange…until now.

The TV brightened again, this time with Ophelia back on the sidewalk in front of The Glass Dolphin. “Here at Channel Five News, the only news station direct from Five Island Cove, we’ve learned that the police have indeed found something on the site of this restaurant. Something historic, something that’s long been forgotten. I have Chief Aaron Sherman here with me tonight, ready to tell all of you what’s really going on here at The Glass Dolphin.”

She spoke with such drama in her voice, Clara almost rolled her eyes. Surely they hadn’t found a mass grave, and anything less than that certainly didn’t warrant Ophelia’s big, wide, serious eyes and her almost hushed tone.

“Good evening, fellow Five Island Cove residents,” Chief Sherman said, his eyes serious and staring straight into the camera lens. On the table in front of her, Clara’s phone started to buzz and vibrate as text after text came in.

She couldn’t tear her eyes from the television, though, as Aaron said, “We did discover an old time capsule buried on the northeast corner of the building which houses The Glass Dolphin. It is not Native American land, and it was never registered as such.” He spoke in a clear, concise, firm voice, leaving no room for debate.

“We’ve recovered the time capsule in its entirety, and the year on the lid is listed as Nineteen Hundred-Fifty. We’ve asked our town historians to research if this is indeed a time capsule, sealed up for future generations of Five Island Covers, but they have been unable to find anything in the records.”

Her mother’s phone rang, and she said, “It’s Eloise,” as she swiped the call to voicemail. “Of course we’re all watching this.”

“Therefore, I took every precaution,” Aaron said. “Just because a barrel has a lid on it marked with a year doesn’t mean it’s safe. We’ve opened the barrel and we have confirmed its contents are indicative of a time capsule from the year Nineteen Hundred-Fifty.” He blinked slowly. “I’ve met with my father, the Mayor, and we’ve decided to display the contents of the time capsule at City Hall, beginning tomorrow at ten o’clock a.m.”

He cleared his throat, which caused Clara to rise to her feet too. She’d spent casual time with Aaron Sherman. She’d seen him standing on stages to make public announcements and directing his cops through a crisis. The man did not clear his throat, ever.

“There are some interesting documents inside the time capsule, and we’re still working to validate and verify their credibility. But in the interest of full transparency, we’ll be displaying everything at City Hall. Nothing will be held back.” He glanced over to Ophelia with one final nod.

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