“What the hell?” Campbell’s voice went up an octave as we arrived at our destination. “Where’s my Jet Ski?”

Even through the dark, I could tell that the gravelly beach on the east shore was bare. No boats. No Hope.

“My ride’s gone, too,” Victoria stated calmly. All four of us stared out at the water.

“Maybe they just floated away on their own,” Sadie-Grace said hopefully. “They couldn’t have floated far. We could wade out to find them?”

“We could,” Victoria allowed. “Or we could wait for daybreak. They’ll be easier to spot then, and worse comes to worst, we could just swim to shore.”

“I vote we swim for it now,” I said. “I know it’s dark, but Campbell’s cove isn’t far.” That idea was not met with any level of enthusiasm. “Night swimming,” I cajoled. “Gliding our way through pitch-black water with only the scantest moonlight to guide us. Seems like a White Glove kind of thing to do. Hell, we can do it naked, if that helps.”

“Or,” Victoria countered evenly, “we could find Hope and wait for daybreak.”

“Hanging around here is not a good idea,” I replied. “And for all we know, Hope left.” Something in my stomach twisted. “Did Sadie-Grace tell you . . .”

“I told her everything!” Sadie-Grace chirped. “Especially about the part where I got the feeling in my body back.”

“Your aunt’s gone off the deep end,” Victoria summarized. “I have no idea why she would stick you guys in a hole on an abandoned island, but I suppose everyone has a breaking point. I can relate.”

I thought back to Ellen’s house, to the moment when Aunt Olivia had told me that I’d brought this on myself. What breaking point did I hit?

“Relax, Sawyer,” Campbell told me. “There’s four of us and one of her. I seriously doubt Olivia Taft—or her mystery lookalike—is secretly some kind of suburban brawler.”

“Heaven forbid,” a pleasant voice said. Aunt Olivia—or whoever she was—walked slowly out of the shadows. She held a flashlight in her left hand. “I’ve never been much for brawling,” Aunt Olivia commented. She looked down to her free hand, and my eyes followed. “I am, however, the best shot in this family. Isn’t that right, Sawyer?”

Who’s the best shot in this family? That was something I’d heard Aunt Olivia say to John David, my first day at Lillian’s house.

Ellen’s daughter has been playing the role of Olivia Taft for at least a year, I realized. I didn’t say that out loud. I didn’t say anything.

I was too busy looking at her gun.

CHAPTER 56

The best shot in the Taft family forced us back across the island. Not to the hole—to the charred remains of what had once been a house.