The Final Victim(123)

Adjoining the master suite at Oakgate, the cozy room that was once Gilbert Remington's study has been done over in shades of pastel blue.

Baby blue.

With luck, the white nursery furniture will be delivered by the Fourth of July, as promised…

A long shadow falls over the sand.

Charlotte looks up to see her husband standing over her, his brown skin glistening with droplets of seawater, mocha-colored eyes twinkling down at her. "Hey, how's the beach ball?" 'Just fine." She smiles as he gently pats her enormous stomach and is met with a reassuring kick from their son's tiny foot.

"It's a boy, Mr. and Mrs. Dorado," the obstetrician said the day she gave them the amniocentesis results.

It's a boy.

A son.

A son who will one day soon be rocked in his mother's embrace, and swung high above the surf in his father's hands, and who will ask his big sister a million curious questions when she comes home to visit.

But for now, for one last summer, Lianna is home-and soon, the baby will be, too.

Home at Oakgate.

Pressing her thumb to her eyebrows, Charlotte shields her eyes to cast a reassuring gaze out over the ocean.

Yes, Lianna is there, just beyond the breakers, floating serenely in the sparkling blue sea beneath the golden summer sun.

And above her, a lone white gull soars to the heavens.