Eleanor smirked. “What about your journalistic endeavors? Aren’t they similar in nature?”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” Hannah said.
“Not that you know of,” Eleanor said. “But there are always ramifications.”
“There are ramifications for everything, yes,” Hannah offered.
“Yes. There would have been ramifications, had we let Larry carry on,” Eleanor said, her fingers tented on her thigh. “It’s possible that he could have killed those two little girls and his son, Julien. It’s possible his wife would have been buried young.”
Hannah didn’t want to get into this. In her mind, what the Legacy Club had done was wrong, entirely wrong, the sort of thing that you couldn’t come back from. It was hard for her to imagine the specifics, if they had cronies they sent after the men who’d wronged them, or if they (somehow, given their age) managed to take out the men themselves.
Hannah’s pulse quickened. There was something overly sinister about the way Eleanor was looking at her, as though she were a few steps ahead in this game. Again, Hannah tried to answer the big question at hand. Why had Eleanor invited her here? Was this an elaborate game of cat and mouse?
And then, Eleanor raised her glass and said, “What if it were your daughter?”
Hannah felt smacked over the head, but she told herself to keep her cool. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“What if your daughter were in danger? What if you had to do something, something maybe violent, in order to keep your daughter safe? Would you do it?” Eleanor asked.
Hannah knocked her head back and cleared out the rest of her martini glass. She told herself that it was time to go, that now that Eleanor was bringing Minnie into the equation, she couldn’t hang around.
“I don’t think we need to talk about that,” Hannah said.
“And why not? Isn’t it relevant?” Eleanor asked.
Hannah snorted. “I don’t see how it’s relevant.”
“No. I suppose you wouldn’t,” Eleanor said.
But her strange and knowing and alienating tone stopped Hannah’s heart. Something glinted in her eyes. She wanted to say something. She was dangling something over Hannah’s head.
“Tell me, Hannah,” Eleanor said gently. “Do you know where your daughter is?”
Hannah frowned. “Of course I do. She’s with friends. She’s probably still with Viggo.”
Eleanor shook her head every so slightly. “Oh no, darling. Like I told you before. I make it my business to know who is on the island and what everyone is up to. Your daughter left the island earlier this afternoon, in fact.” Eleanor snapped her fingers. “Do you want to know who took her away?”
Icy panic shot through Hannah. She had half a mind to throw her martini over Eleanor’s face. But she remained frozen, gasping, while Eleanor delivered her horrible smile of victory.
24
It was Julien’s last hour of work for the night. He’d decided to stay later than he had all week, tending to things in the office, sending wretched emails, and mending things with Sylvia, their HR-and-secretary in one, who was now overworked and threatening to quit. They couldn’t lose her now, just as the season was beginning. Besides, Hannah had asked for a night off—just one night—and it allowed Julien a little bit of time to think about the rush of falling in love with her. He couldn’t believe how simple it felt. Had it been this easy with Nina?
Just then, his phone began to buzz. Before he glanced at it, he imagined it would be one of the dock workers, asking him to go to the sailing bar for drinks. It had been ages since he’d caught up with those guys, and he knew he needed to check in and be friendly. He didn’t want to frighten Hannah away with the truth that he was an antisocial guy without many friends.
Maybe she’d already figured that out. It wasn’t like she had many friends to speak of, either, though. Maybe they could forge a new reality together. Maybe they were all each other needed.
But when Julien finally looked at his phone, he read: ELEANOR PIKE, and his blood ran cold. No matter what she’ddone for his mother, no matter what she and the rest of the Legacy Club had done for his family all those years ago, he sometimes hated when she called him. She always wanted a favor. She always needed something from him, and he couldn’t disappoint her.
That was the nature of Nantucket Island—the Legacy Club had all the power.
“Evening, Eleanor,” he said, trying to keep his voice firm and polite.
“Julien, hello. I wondered if you could do me a favor.”
“Of course,” Julien said, thinking,I knew it.
“You have video footage of the dock from this afternoon, don’t you? Footage of everyone entering and exiting the ferry from, say, between three thirty and four o’clock?”
