The Last Sister (Columbia River)(86)

“Dad’s pocket watch,” Madison finally said. “You know the quote inside?”

“Yes.” Emily didn’t have the breath to say anything else.

“It’s associated with the KKK.” Madison was silent for three steps. “I think Dad had been a member—or belonged to a similar group.”

Emily processed her words. That meeting long ago . . .

“I think I may have subconsciously known that,” Emily panted, “but ignored it.”

“You knew?”

“Sorta. I can see it in hindsight. I was clueless to a lot of things as a kid. You asked what I picked up in the yard the night Dad died.”

“Yes.”

Emily struggled for breath to speak, the pain in her lungs matching her head. “I found some coinlike things in the grass that night, but they weren’t money. I’d seen them before in one of his drawers.” She stopped and rested her hands on her thighs, gasping for air. “I took them and hid them. We lost everything in the fire, and I thought of them as mine afterward. Something of his that was just for me, and I didn’t want to share. If Mom saw them, I knew she would take them back.”

“I found them in your things a long time ago.”

Emily wasn’t surprised. “I researched them online a few years back. They’re not coins, they’re tokens. A lot of groups make personalized tokens—the Masons or branches of the military. These were from a white supremacist group in Portland, and I didn’t understand why he would have them.”

Madison was silent.

“But I put them away after I learned that,” Emily whispered. “I didn’t know what to think about the coins and Dad. I remembered . . .” Memories flared.

“Remembered what?”

“I think Dad took me to some of those meetings. I didn’t know what they were.”

The wind in the trees was the only sound.

“I think everyone knew but us,” Madison said softly. “It doesn’t matter now. Come on.” She took Emily’s arm again. “We’re almost there.”

The cracks of two gunshots echoed through the forest.





35

Zander’s headlights lit up three vehicles at the park gate, including Madison’s car and a Mercedes that he recognized from Tara’s home.

She is here.

He didn’t know the third car. He called Sheriff Greer.

“Greer.”

“It’s Wells. Can you run a plate for me? I’m on the road.”

The sheriff grunted. “Give me a minute.”

“Has Billy said more?” Zander asked.

“Sticking to the same story. I had two deputies go pick up his brother, who is just fine, by the way, and thinks Billy is full of shit. Okay. Give me the plate.”

Zander rattled off the plate.

“That’s Harlan Trapp’s vehicle. Where are you?”

A million questions burst in Zander’s head.

Did Harlan follow Emily?

Nate Copeland’s dead body filled his vision, quickly followed by Harlan Trapp and the sheriff in the old photo of men.

Who can I trust?

From a distance two shots were fired, and he flinched, his throat going dry. Emily?

“Where are you? Who’s shooting?” the sheriff roared.

Zander made a decision about trust as he grabbed his tactical vest for the second time that day. “I’m on Seabound Road at the gate. It’s locked. Emily and Madison are inside somewhere, and I assume Harlan is too. I don’t know who fired the shots.”

“I’ll be there in ten minutes. Sending deputies now.”

“Tell them I’m heading inside.”

The sheriff paused. “I will.”

Zander glanced at the Mercedes as he fastened his vest.

Why is Tara here?

He bent, stepped between the gate’s bars, and silently ran up the road, listening hard, expecting more gunshots. The wind and the smell of the ocean grew stronger as he covered some distance. He didn’t know exactly where he was going, but he figured he’d know it when he got there.

There were no turnoffs or footpaths leading from the road—that much he could see in the dark. He didn’t use a flashlight, preferring not to draw attention or gunfire toward himself.

The roar of another shot made him drop to the ground, his heart hammering.

A man was yelling, but Zander couldn’t make out the words.

He jumped to his feet and continued his trek.



“She didn’t jump, she shot herself!” Emily gasped as the sound of the two shots faded away.

“Maybe whoever parked the second car at the gate fired the shot—maybe it’s kids fooling around,” Madison said in an uncertain tone. “It could have nothing to do with her.”

That explanation wasn’t good enough for Emily. She broke into a run, and Madison followed.

“You thought I would trust you?”

Emily slammed to a stop as Madison grabbed her arm. There was no mistaking the fury in the male voice up ahead.

“Who is that?” Madison whispered.

“You thought you could lure me to this place and shoot me?” A roar of laughter followed.

Emily knew the laugh and voice but couldn’t connect them with a face.