have to do with it?” A quick glimpse at him, and I cast my gaze back toward the endless sea. “The future of this collective lies with me. When I’m gone, they have no funding. No research. No validity to their bullshit.”
“Yet, you don’t subscribe to their methods, at all.”
“Have you been paying attention, Mr. Goodman?” A sailboat sits on the edge of the horizon, nothing but a dot on the line. A point of convergence. Reference. Direction in a vast sea. The more I stare at it, the more it seems to encapsulate my thoughts. “Beyond Isa Quinn is a black void for me. A point on the horizon that I can’t see past. If you want answers, I suggest you pay close attention to her.”
A beat of silence follows, before he clears his throat. “Are you asking me to follow her?”
“I insist you follow her.”
“To what end? You haven’t given me anything valuable.”
“I have. By admitting what’s most valuable to me. But if that’s not enough, I’m willing to double whatever you’re currently being paid to be a pain in my ass.”
He snorts and rubs his forehead, as if a headache is blooming there. “Fine. You consider her valuable. Then, I’ll keep a close watch on her.”
“Good. And should you need to contact me, here is where you can reach me directly.” I slide a business card across the bench, which he accepts by sliding it toward him.
“Thank you, Mr. Blackthorne. I’ll be in touch.”
Chapter 59
Isadora
The small Tupperware container filled with my mother’s ashes sits in the sand beside me, as I tip back a bottle of Boone’s Farm I stole from Aunt Midge’s stash.
I’ve taken just a small bit of the ashes to scatter into the ocean, the one place I know my mom would love to be. The spot is a small cove where Aunt Midge brought me to swim, when I first arrived in Tempest. Away from all the tourists and meddling eyes, a small piece of heaven that belonged only to us.
“Do you remember the night, when I was eight years old, you and I ran down to the ocean? We plopped in the sand, and you let me try strawberry Boone’s for the first time. You told me it was your favorite, because it reminded you of hot summer nights and sunsets in Tempest Cove. And afterward, we stripped down to our underwear and jumped into the waves for a night swim.” Staring into the bottle of pink alcohol, I smile. “I think that was my favorite moment with you.” The setting sun casts vibrant colors over the surface, as I tip back a sip of the drink and slam the bottle into the sand beside me.
I swipe up the container of ashes and dig open the lid, careful not to spill any of the contents prematurely. With my blue jeans rolled up to my calves, I wade into the water, letting the waves crash against my ankles. Arm outstretched away from me, I sprinkle the ashes into the shallow waters around me, and watch as they gather on the surface, the bigger fragments sinking to the sand.
In seconds, a school of tiny minnows gathers around me, nibbling up the small ashes of my mother’s remains.
The fucking fish are eating her.
Within minutes, I’m surrounded by small fish feeding off the tiny bits still floating around, and laughter cracks through my chest. I bend forward, laughing so hard, I’m afraid I might piss myself. For five straight minutes, the hysterical laughter pounds through me, and I let it take me under.
Mom would’ve laughed, too, I’m certain of it. If there’s one thing we did share, it was humor for the macabre. Dark humor, for which she was bold enough to laugh when others might keep quiet. Perhaps that’s one thing I loved about her.
In seconds, the dust of her remains is consumed, and the school disperses back out into the deeper waters.
Sighing, I stare out over the ocean, thinking how incredible it would be to end up in the tiny bellies of fish. To forever be part of the sea.
About three quarters of the bottle remains, and I toss what’s left in one of the nearby trashcans, then gather up my shoes from the sand. For the last hour, I’ve sat here, contemplating what to do next, now that I hold all the missing pieces to the puzzle.
Back when my mother was pregnant with me, Boyd was apparently working toward his first run as