The Final Victim(121)

No, not his beautiful, beloved Charlotte. Just Lianna- along with her beautiful blond stepsister, Aimee, in a tragic accident as they tried to flee the island for help.

Cringing in anguish as he uses his arms on the rail to pull himself down the back steps, Joseph is satisfied with the way things have turned out.

Big sister has been taken care of.

In time, when all the fuss has subsided, little sister will be, too.

Or maybe not.

Maybe Joseph should try to learn to live with Lianna after all. For a while, at least.

Maybe he should spare his wife the loss of another child.

Because he does love Charlotte. He really does.

And now he has it all. Everything he ever wanted With the exception of Lianna.

Oh, well, there's always boarding school-or Vince. Let Daddy's little girl go live with him for a while.

I can talk Charlotte into it. I can talk her into anything.

Outside, it's still raining steadily, but the savage gusts have subsided.

The worst of the storm is over.

Isn't that the truth, Joseph thinks wryly.

He limps painstakingly around the clump of shrug that lead to where he left Charlotte-Only to find that she's vanished.

A wave of panic sweeps through him.

Then a voice commands, "Stop right there and pu up your hands."

Charlotte's voice.

She's on her feet-and she's pointing a gun…

At him.

As Charlotte watches the taillights of the police c disappear through a curtain of rain down the winding drive, she sinks onto the top slate step of the portico.

Handcuffed in the backseat is the man she knew Royce Maitland.

In time, she might find out exactly who he really is or was.

Maybe she never will.

It doesn't really matter now.

It's over.

Their universe shattered, she and Lianna are never nevertheless alive.

That's something.

No.

It's everything.

"Mom?"

She looks up to see Lianna behind her, still pale, still quivering, still covered in mud.

"Is he gone?" she asks in a little-girl voice that wrings the last bit of emotion from Charlotte's heart.

"Yes, Lianna," she manages to say, "he's gone."

"Mom… You saved my life."

Charlotte shakes her head, remembering what happened back there in the treacherous sea.

If it wasn't for her daughter, she would have readily joined her son.

‘’You saved my life, Lianna. Twice."

Her voice gives way then, and she raises her arms in mute invitation.

Not so long ago, Charlotte had told herself that when it comes to her daughter, all she can do is hold her breath and let go.

I was wrong, she thinks now, as she gathers Lianna into her arms at last. Dead wrong.

All I can do is breathe a tremendous sigh of relief… and hold on tight.


EPILOGUE
The beach is postcard-perfection on this, the first official weekend of summer.

Down beyond the dunes, where sea oats sway in the warm salt breeze, bright-colored blankets and umbrellas dot powdery sand. Crisp white sails skim the horizon. The ocean air is rife with the sounds of gleeful children splashing in the surf, the incessant roar of the waves, the squawking of circling gulls, the hum of banner-toting planes cruising the coast.

Charlotte sits in her blue and white canvas chair, protected from the midday sun by her cotton cover-up and the umbrella's shade. Romance novel in hand, woven sweetgrass hat on her head, she smiles, watching a little boy splash, shirtless, in the surf.

On his shoulder is a telltale birthmark.

Charlotte told him it's an angel's kiss, just as she told little Adam years ago.

Adam would have graduated from college last month, had he lived-another unreached milestone to join the others in Charlotte's mental scrapbook. If she closes her eyes, she can see her lost son: proud teenager in cap and gown, dashing groom in a wedding boutonniere, tender new father cradling an infant.

Milestones…

Next month, Charlotte will kiss her daughter goodbye and send her off to her freshman year at Princeton.

Initially, Lianna didn't want to go that far from Oakgate. She likes to stay close to home. And Charlotte would secretly love to keep her there, safely tucked under her wing.

Yes, it's tempting to just hang on tight, forever.

But I can't.

It's time to let go at last.

Milestones…

The little boy in the water will be starting first grade in September at Telfair Academy, just as his mother did almost three decades ago.

He, too, will be on a scholarship-of sorts.

Charlotte has arranged to pay little Cameron Johnston's private school tuition. She'll send him to college, too, when the time comes.

For his mother, Mimi, one more semester at Georgia Southern will yield that elusive degree in international studies at last. But she's already been to Europe. Many, many times. Not on business, or pleasure, but a mission.

Mission accomplished.

"How can I ever repay you for all you’ve done for us, Charlotte?’’ Mimi asks, often.

Charlotte simply tells her that payback isn't necessary.

She never mentions what she figured out on a July day three years ago, the first time she joined the Johnstons at the beach…