Every Vow You Break - Peter Swanson Page 0,96
the Roman god of the woods and of wild nature. That corporation had purchased Heart Pond Island and the defunct summer camps on it, as well as a similar island in the Puget Sound, the place where Bruce had gone for his bachelor weekend. Once the floodgates had been opened, a surprising number of current and ex-employees of both these places had stepped forward to give testimony, along with multiple women, all with stories about being elaborately punished for their transgressions. Chip Ramsay’s own wife had disappeared two years earlier, and that disappearance was now being treated as a potential homicide.
Mellie, whose full name was Melanie Nadeau, had turned herself in as a cooperating witness, claiming that she had been coerced against her will by Chip Ramsay to work on Heart Pond Island. Porter Conyers, the man from Bermuda who had once been involved with Jill Greenly, had somehow managed to entirely disappear. Jill’s husband, Alec Greenly, the producer, had committed suicide in his jail cell in February by hanging himself with a bathroom towel.
Abigail was a star witness in the wide-ranging investigation. She was hoping it would never go to court, but she was also willing to do whatever it took to make sure the various members of Silvanus paid for what they’d done.
Eric Newman had tried to get in touch with her, sending an email to the same address he’d used way back when, before the wedding. He said that he didn’t expect her to ever forgive him, but that he’d like to explain his role in what had happened. She imagined that he wanted to talk about how Chip Ramsay was a charismatic figure, that he’d been seduced like other damaged men during one of Chip’s seminars in San Diego, a weekend event called “Men Finding Their Voice” or something like that—that was most likely where both Eric and Bruce had been recruited years earlier. She never replied to Eric Newman’s email.
She was about to open the photographer’s link when movement in her small backyard caught her eye. It was the black feral cat that sometimes lived in the attached garage. The owners, before renting to Abigail, had informed her about the cat they’d named Bonnie, wanting to ensure that Abigail would keep an eye out for her and occasionally put food and water out, especially if there was bad weather. Abigail had agreed, but she’d rarely spotted Bonnie since she’d moved in.
Abigail watched the cat move stealthily across the lawn, keeping low, stalking a lone sparrow on a fence post that marked the boundary of the property. Bonnie got about three feet from the bird before it sprang into the air and landed on a low branch of a tall maple tree. The cat stretched her spine and nonchalantly circled back, as though she hadn’t been that interested in the bird in the first place. Abigail watched the sparrow, now arcing its way toward a small shrubby tree. Did it know how close it had come to being eaten?
She finished her coffee, went back inside to get a second cup, and made toast for herself. Her father had called and left her a message wanting to know if she’d like to go see an afternoon movie, and Zoe had sent a text to see if she wanted to get lunch. She decided she wasn’t quite ready to make decisions regarding her day and took her second cup of coffee back outside to the patio, putting it down on the coffee table next to the small white stone with the red ring that she’d kept from Heart Pond Island. She touched a finger to the stone before leaning back, gathering her laptop, and clicking on the link that brought her to the wedding photographs.
There were hundreds of them, as the photographer had promised, laid out in a grid that loaded surprisingly fast. Most were in black-and-white, but a few were in color, and the images unspooled on the page like cards being turned over. Abigail had been prepared for a tidal wave of emotions but, oddly, maybe because she was expecting that, she felt relatively unmoved by all the pictures. She remembered the day well—getting dressed with the bridesmaids while sharing champagne, the official photographs on the hill with the Hudson River in the background, the walk down the aisle, the vows they’d written themselves, the cocktail party, dinner and dancing. She actually found herself enjoying some of the pictures, getting to see her friends and family