Chapter 9: The Witness

The two of them stood off in the basement for a long time.

Finally, Cane dropped onto an old fishing-tackle box and raked both hands through his hair.

“1987. I was fourteen.” He spoke at last, his voice rough, not like himself. “That night, I stole my dad’s whiskey and went out to the reef alone to drink. I drank too much, passed out behind a rock, and didn’t leave.”

“And?”

“And I saw two cars drive up onto the reef.” He closed his eyes. “One was the sheriff’s. The other I didn’t know. They brought two girls out. One was crying. One was cursing.”

Lila’s nails dug into her palm.

“I saw the sheriff—” Cane’s voice shook. “I saw the current sheriff, he was a deputy back then. He pushed one of the girls toward the rocks. The other man, I never got a clear look at his face. He… he was laughing.”

“Why didn’t you call the police?!”

“Call the police?” Cane’s head snapped up, eyes red. “The next day, they took my sister from our house.”

The basement went dead silent.

“They didn’t touch me.” He said. “They just brought me to the sheriff’s office and showed me a photo—my sister tied to a chair, duct tape over her mouth. They said, kid, you were drunk that night, you didn’t see anything. If you breathe a word to anyone, next high tide, she’s the one they push off the rocks.”

“Then your sister—”

“Three days later.” Cane’s voice was barely a whisper. “They brought her back. Alive. But she never spoke again. She lives in a care facility outside town now, draws the sea on her wall every day. She’s thirty-seven this year, looks sixty.”

Lila slowly sank onto another box.

“So you see.” Cane stood, walked to her, and crouched down—meeting her eyes for the first time. “I’m not a killer, Ms. Mason. I’m a coward. I played mute for twenty years.”

“Then why are you telling me now?”

He was quiet a long time.

“Because this afternoon,” he said, “when I fished your bag out from under the reef, I saw a fresh footprint next to it. Rubber boots. Size twelve.”

He stared at her:

“In this town, only two men wear size-twelve rubber boots. One is me.”

“And the other?”

Cane’s throat moved.

“The current sheriff.”

Just then, a crash came from upstairs.

It sounded like someone breaking in through the kitchen window.