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Kaitlin hesitated. “And buried him, yes. There’s a line that implies it: ‘To keep him from rising, we divided him and sealed his wrath beneath the hearth and garden.’ Verity then ordered the protective marks carved into the thresholds and entryways—Sully’s ancestor did the work himself.”
Amy stared into the flames, her jaw set. “That’s what you said during the séance,” she remembered. “They weren’t decorative. They were… trying to keep the captain out.”
“Exactly,” Kaitlin said, her voice now hushed. “The haunting Mason captured may not be just resentment—it could be what Verity feared: the echo of that act. The spirit coming back to life, demanding revenge. It all tracks with what the Dead Reckoning crew is finding.”
They all fell silent for a few heartbeats.
Matt cleared his throat. “That brings us to something else.” His adopted his factual sheriff tone. “I got the DNA results back on the remains we pulled from the garden site. Do you mind if I share it with this group, Sully?”
Sully shook his head.
“You were a match.”
Sully’s head snapped up. “To the bones? To him?”
“The captain was your great-great-great grandfather,” Matt said. “From Kaitlin’s research, Verity’s child—born after all this—was Blackwell’s. From Kaitlin’s genealogy, that child married into the Sullivan family, which makes her your great-great grandmother.”
Sully’s face displayed a range of different emotions. “Well then, that is surely something.”
Amy felt the night slow around them. The sound of the sea receded to the edge of her hearing. “So the bones,” she said softly, “the remains. That was Captain Blackwell?”
Matt nodded. “Sully’s DNA. Everything fits—the age, the time period, the wounds. Now with Verity’s accounts and that Samira said the toxicology showed some heavy metal poisoning, which tracks with his changed behavior. It’s my call as sheriff, and I’m calling it a closed case. Definitely self-defense, with an obvious pattern of abuse. He was no longer right of mind, and Verity protected herself and her unborn child.”
Kaitlin closed the folder gently. “Maybe now with the story told, both sides can rest—her guilt, and his rage.”
Silence settled across the group for a moment, heavy but oddly peaceful. Then Kelsey reached for her drink. “Well,” she said softly, “that was one hell of a family history lesson.”
“You’re telling me,” Sully said. “My grandmother killed my grandfather… that’s a lot to swallow even though it was a hundred years ago.”
Mac chuckled under his breath. “And you thought the renovation budget was your biggest problem.”
That drew the laughter back. Slowly, the tension ebbed, replaced by warmth and the crackle of the fire. The night stretched easily after that—more talk of plans, schedules, and finally dessert.
When the embers burned low, Amy and Sully gathered the last of the plates while the others began drifting off into the dark, tired and thoughtful.
As they reached her car, Amy touched his arm. “You okay?”
He nodded after a pause. “Yeah. Just… processing. My family’s story just turned a corner I never expected.”
Amy smiled sadly. “We all have ghosts in our pasts.”
He leaned in, brushing his lips against hers.
Later at her house, the quiet was deep and gentle. The harbor lights shimmered through the window as Amy reached over, threading her fingers with his. For the first time since the discovery began, she felt something close to peace.
Outside, unseen, the wind shifted through the trees—soft, like the long breath of a story finally told.
But a reckoning still unfinished.
Chapter 26
They agreed to spend the night apart.
After three straight days together—Sunday’s date had melted into easy dinners and quiet mornings in the week—it felt strange to be alone again. But his father wanted an early meeting, and “early” in their family meant before sunrise, with strong coffee and guilt.
He tried watching Dead Reckoning to fill the silence. It aired late, so he watched it with one eye open. The first sweeping drone shot of the mansion sent gooseflesh rippling along his arms. It was a beautiful building. He didn’t appreciate it enough, maybe because knowing every flaw left him unable to.
To think this was his family history reflected at him. Both the carpentry and the owners. Interesting that his family’s stories never involved that piece. He wondered how his father would react upon knowing his ancestors committed murder.
