“Brooks, we’ve got a situation. Mrs. Rena Zamil called in. Says someone broke into her garden shed last night. Normally I’d send Daniels, but she specifically asked for you.”
Brooks remembered the name from Lily’s case file. Mrs. Zamil had been the witness whose statements changed between interviews. “I’ll head over now.”
The Zamil house sat two blocks from the lighthouse, close enough that the keeper’s cottage was visible from the front windows. Mrs. Zamil met him at the door, a woman in her eighties with sharp eyes and trembling hands.
“Detective Harrington. Thank you for coming.”
“Chief Sullivan said you had a break-in?”
“The shed. Nothing taken, but things were moved around. Boxes opened, papers scattered.” She led him through the house to the back garden. “I wouldn’t have called except for what I found this morning.”
The shed door stood ajar. Inside, cardboard boxes lined the walls, most labeled with dates and contents in faded marker. Mrs. Zamil pointed to one box near the back, its lid askew.
“That one contains old photographs and papers from when my late husband worked for the town. He was on the volunteer search team when that poor Morgan girl went missing.”
Brooks pulled on gloves and examined the box. Someone had rifled through it recently. Photographs lay scattered across the top, and several manila folders had been pulled out and hastily shoved back.
“Mrs. Zamil, do you know what was in these folders?”
“Search grid maps, volunteer assignments, witness statements. Dennis kept copies of everything from the search. He said the official investigation felt incomplete.”
“How did Dennis get copies of witness statements?”
She looked around, almost as if checking to see if anyone else was nearby. “Chief Morrison was careless, often asked for volunteers to do things around the station. Dennis saw an opportunity because had concerns about how Chief Morrison handled things.”
Brooks felt a chill. “What kind of concerns?”
“The hidden cove. Dennis noticed it wasn’t included in the search grid, even though it appeared on all the coastal survey maps. When he asked Morrison about it, he was told the cove was inaccessible and didn’t need searching.” Mrs. Zamil’s hands clenched. “Dennis went there anyway, on his own. He found evidence someone had been there recently. Disturbed sand, fresh marks on the rocks. He took photographs and gave them to Morrison.”
“What happened?”
“Morrison told him the photographs showed natural erosion and ordered him to stop spreading rumors that would upset Mrs. Morgan. Dennis backed down. He had a family to support, and Morrison made it clear that pursuing the issue would cost him his job with the town.” She met Brooks’s eyes. “But he kept his copies of everything. Just in case.”
“Are those photographs still here?”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you. They’re gone. Whoever broke in took Dennis’s photographs of the cove and his notes about what he found there. They left everything else.”
Brooks examined the box more carefully. Whoever had searched it knew exactly what they wanted.
“Mrs. Zamil, I need to ask you about your witness statements from 1999. You gave two different descriptions of what Lily was wearing the day she went missing.”
The elderly woman’s face crumpled. “I’ve been waiting for someone to ask me that for twenty-five years.”
“You can tell me the truth now.”
“The first statement was accurate. I saw Lily wearing a red jacket and carrying a black camera bag. I remember because red was her favorite color.” Mrs. Zamil’s voice shook. “Two days later, Chief Morrison came to my house. He said I must have been confused, that other witnesses saw her in a blue sweater with no bag. He suggested I correct my statement before it caused problems for the investigation.”
“He pressured you to change your story.”
“He implied my memory was faulty. Made it clear that contradicting the official narrative would reflect poorly on me.” She looked at the scattered photographs. “I’ve regretted my cowardice every day since. If I’d stood firm, maybe the investigation would have followed different leads. Maybe they would have found her.”
Brooks made careful notes. “Mrs. Zamil, the break-in suggests someone is worried about what Dennis documented. I need to know everything he told you about that cove.”
“He said he found fresh tire tracks leading to the water’s edge. The sand showed signs of recent boat activity. And there were marks on the rock face that suggested someone had been climbing down to a lower area that wasn’t visible from above.”She hesitated. “Dennis thought there might be a cave or tunnel entrance down there. He wanted to investigate further, but Morrison forbade it.”
“Did Dennis ever go back?”
“Not that I know of. But he kept watching the area. He noticed boats coming and going at odd hours, always at night. He documented what he could from a distance.” Mrs. Zamil’s voice dropped to a whisper. “A week after Lily disappeared, Dennis told me he was going to contact the state police. He said the local investigation was compromised and someone outside Westerly Cove needed to know what he’d found.”
