“You doing okay up there, Harrington?”
“Better than I was.” Brooks felt the familiar weight of survivor’s guilt, but it was different now. Less crushing, more purposeful. “Tell Traci’s family I’ll visit when this case is over. Tell them their mom saved my life, and I’m trying to honor that by being a better detective.”
“I will. And Harrington? Trust your instincts. Traci would want that.”
After the call ended, Brooks sat in the quiet of his cottage. The case had grown beyond what Westerly Cove’s small police department could handle. Chief Sullivan had already contacted the FBI about the scope of the Aldrich smuggling operation. Agent Porter and his team would arrive by morning.
Brooks spent the next hour reviewing materials for the briefing. Financial records hidden in the lighthouse lamp room revealed the full scope of the Aldrich operation—forty years of shipping manifests, offshore account numbers, correspondence with international buyers. Vivienne had been right about where to look, just as she’d been right about the tunnel entrance, the hidden chamber where Lily had preserved her camera and notebook, and Melissa Clarkson’s likely location somewhere in the network below.
At four-thirty in the morning, he drove to The Mystic Cup and was surprised to find warm light glowing in the shop windows. He could see Vivienne moving around inside, brewing tea from herbs that helped her recover from exhaustion.
She opened the door before he knocked, alert despite the early hour.
“FBI briefing in three hours,” Brooks said. “We’ll need your tunnel expertise from the raid.”
Vivienne nodded, leading him into the shop. “I’ve been preparing maps of the underground system. Between Mathilde’s architectural drawings and what the spirits showed us in the central chamber, I can document every passage, every junction point.”
“How accurate are your maps?”
“Based on visions confirmed by our physical exploration. I’d estimate ninety-five percent accuracy.”
Brooks pulled out his case files and spread them across one of her reading tables. “Tell me about the financial records. What did you see when you handled them in the lamp room?”
“Ledgers dating back forty years. Shipping manifests with international destinations. Bank account numbers for offshore holdings.” Vivienne’s voice was steady. “The readings were intense—I could feel the hands of everyone who’d touched those documents, all the way back to Gerald Aldrich’s father. The Aldrich operation is worth about two hundred million dollars.”
“The FBI is calling it the largest smuggling ring on the East Coast.” Brooks made notes as she spoke. “We wouldn’t have found any of this without you.”
“The spirits of the victims found it. I just listened to what they were trying to tell us.”
Brooks studied her across the table—exhausted but determined, her abilities focused on seeking justice for people who couldn’t speak for themselves. Three days ago, he would have dismissed everything she claimed as delusion or fraud. Now he understood that her methods were tools.
Psychometry.
Spiritual communication.
Inherited knowledge passed down through generations of women who’d documented the Aldrich crimes. No different from forensic analysis or witness interviews—just drawing from different sources.
“Don’t forget the briefing.”
“What time?”
“Seven a.m.”
Vivienne nodded. “I’ll be ready.”
Brooks left the shop as the first light touched the horizon. He had three hours to shower, eat, and prepare his materials before the FBI arrived. Three hours before the real work began.
The lighthouse stood silent against the dawn sky. No longer a mystery, but a crime scene. Evidence of corruption that stretched back generations.
Brooks drove back to his rental, exhaustion finally catching up with him. But sleep would have to wait. There were reports to write, evidence to catalog, statements to review.
His first case in Westerly Cove close to being solved. Melissa Clarkson had been found, safe and alive. The Aldriches were in custody, at least two of them were. Now the hunt for Winston was in the hands of the FBI.
But Brooks knew this was just the beginning.
THIRTEEN
vivienne
