or envy these newcomers. In fact, he found their presence here, on balance, somewhat of a positive development. They added to the crumbling tax base and brought a sophistication to Shepherd’s Bay, which had helped put it on the map. These people had escaped crowded, crime-ridden, and overpriced cities, which had begun to sink under the weight of their own burdens, and had arrived on the shores of Shepherd’s Bay like wide-eyed refugees from a hostile land and found tranquility, natural beauty, and honest, hardworking people, not to mention a cheap cost of living. They had only to survive the brutal winters.
He loved everything about harsh Maine winters. He loved when a nor’easter dumped three feet of snow on the landscape, amid howling winds, and everything in town shut down. On his days off, he would often put on his snowshoes and walk for miles across the rugged terrain. Or else cross-country ski along one of the many trails that cut across the beach and into the thick woods.
He cruised through the deserted downtown area, past Isla’s shop, and made his way toward the new homes snaking along the water. The lights were off in every house. He slowed down to admire them. They started at around a half a million dollars and went up considerably from there, especially the homes along the shore. The neighborhood stretched back a few blocks toward the bay side. Of course, the ones on the Atlantic were far grander and more luxurious, with beach access and amazing ocean views.
He stopped momentarily at the house where the James boy had once lived. Modest for Harper’s Point, it sat a few streets away from the shore and within walking distance of the lone public beach. He remembered a few months ago sitting at the Jameses’ large dining-room table and interviewing the kid’s distraught mother, stopping every few moments to allow her to cry.
Circling around Harper’s Point, he noticed that the farther away from the neighborhood he drove, the greater the number of older houses he passed. Most of the longtime citizens here had been forced out on account of the taxes, which had been steadily increasing, thanks to the steep rise in land prices. Their houses would eventually get bulldozed and replaced by much larger ones.
He reached the end of the block and headed back toward the Point. Once he reached the end of the street, he saw the Briggses’ mansion in all its glory. It was by far the most impressive home in the development and featured a large spiral turret. How badly he wanted to receive a full tour and see how the other half lived. Just being inside the Briggses’ home that one time had taken his breath away.
He stopped in front of it and let the engine idle. What were the odds that two kids from Harper’s Point would go missing? Was there a serial killer in town targeting rich kids? It seemed ludicrous on the face of it. Had Katie’s life been spared because she’d grown up here? He remembered how angry Drew had gotten, and for a brief second considered him a suspect. But the thought of that kid kidnapping his girlfriend and two rich kids seemed silly. Same with Ray, although he still needed to find out where Ray had been the past three days. The person who had done this was far more calculating and cunning and had to be filled with rage as much as restraint. Someone who resented the way this town had changed, and wanted to make sure the rich paid with their most precious currency: their kids.
An activated light turned on, on the house next door. A tall, handsome man stepped out onto the walkway, dressed in a silk robe and slippers. The man glanced in his direction. Karl recognized him as Beckett McCallister, owner of a number of commercial properties in town and one of the leading opponents of the new real estate tax being proposed. When Councillor Elmer Stow-bridge passed away in February, at the age of eighty-six, the town council became gridlocked on the issue, at four to four. The next elected councillor would cast the swing vote.
The proponents of the tax claimed that it was for the good of the children. The money would go toward rebuilding the schools’ crumbling infrastructure. The wealthy citizens along the water complained that they’d been targeted on account of their excessive wealth and the fact that they sent their kids to prestigious Chance Academy