He studied the image of a stern-faced woman with her distinctive eyes. “The family resemblance is strong.”
“The Hawthorne traits run true.” She poured his tea. “Though I like to think our expressions have softened over the years.”
This earned her a slight smile as he accepted the cup. “I would agree with that assessment.”
He took a sip, eyebrows rising in surprise. “This is unexpected. But good.”
“Assam with spices. Strong enough for a coffee drinker but with more complex notes.”
He nodded, then reached for the folder he had placed on the table. His demeanor shifted, professional focus replacing momentary ease.
“I reviewed both case files this afternoon. The parallels are difficult to dismiss, especially with the photograph discovered at the lighthouse. What can you tell me about Lily Morgan’s disappearance that might not be in the official record?”
She considered the question. “I was eleven when she disappeared. Old enough to understand something terrible had happened, but too young to be included in adult conversations about it. What I know comes from town gossip and what my grandmother shared years later.”
She paused, gathering her thoughts. “The girl was fascinated by local history, particularly the lighthouse and its connection to Prohibition-era smuggling. Her teachers encouraged her research for a school project. She spent several afternoons at the lighthouse, photographing and taking notes. On October 31, 1999, she told her parents she was going to a friend’s house. She never came home.”
Brooks was taking notes, his handwriting neat and precise. “The file mentions she might have had information about illegal activities. Was there any specific rumor about what she might have discovered?”
“Nothing concrete. But there were whispers that the Aldrich family’s involvement in smuggling might not have ended with Prohibition. Winston Aldrich’s father, Gerald, was a lighthouse keeper in the 1990s, which gave him control over who accessedcertain areas. He and the girl’s father had a falling out shortly after she went missing.”
The detective looked up sharply. “That connection wasn’t in the file.”
“Small town dynamics rarely make it into official police reports. Especially when they involve powerful families like the Aldriches.”
“What was the nature of the disagreement between Gerald Aldrich and her father?”
She hesitated, weighing how much to reveal. The town’s history was a tangled web of old alliances and grudges, and she had learned caution in discussing Westerly Cove’s prominent families.
“I don’t know all the particulars. What I heard from my grandmother was that Robert Morgan worked on the lighthouse maintenance crew. He discovered something in the keeper’s records that troubled him. There was an argument, witnessed by several people. A week later, Robert was dismissed from his position. Within a month, he suffered his fatal heart attack.” She paused. “Most people in town think he died of a broken heart while you’ll find some who think it was stress, and there are a few who will say Robert found out where his daughter was and was killed to keep the secret buried.”
“Martha didn’t mention an argument.”
“Maybe he didn’t tell her,” Vivienne said. “I imagine things at home were a bit stressful.”
His expression remained neutral, but his pen moved rapidly across the page. “Was his death investigated?”
“I doubt it. Chief Morrison, was Gerald Aldrich’s brother-in-law.”
He set down his pen. “What about your grandmother? Did she help with the investigation unofficially?”
She hesitated, uncertain how much to reveal about Emmeline’s involvement. Chief Morrison likely never documented her grandmother’s assistance in the official case file.
“Not officially. The girl’s mother came to her privately after the police search efforts were scaled back. My grandmother tried to help, but what she could see was limited. She said something blocked her, something connected to the lighthouse itself.”
“Blocked her.” His tone remained neutral but skeptical.
“Some places accumulate layers of history over time. The lighthouse has witnessed both protection and deception since its construction. Those opposing purposes create interference. My grandmother could only get fragments, never a complete picture of what happened.”
“And those fragments were?”
“Water. Fear. A hidden place beneath stone. Something valuable being protected.” She looked down at her hands, remembering her own session minutes earlier. “Much like what I perceive now with Melissa Clark’s disappearance.”
He studied her for a long moment. “Chief Sullivan mentioned your grandmother occasionally provided insights on cases. He seemed to have found her input valuable.”
This surprised her. “He never mentioned that to me.”
“I got the impression their relationship was complicated. Professional respect competing with personal reservations.”
