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I appreciate the reminder, even though I hate it.
Facts matter.
Cross wants us angry enough to run toward Blackwater without thinking.
That may be why he told us.
“Why were we told Dad died at sea doing something he loved?” I asked.
“Grandpa thought it would be better if you girls didn’t know about the truck accident. Now I know why. All of you would have started investigating the brakes going out.”
Of course, we would have wanted to investigate why the brakes went out in a new vehicle. Just like grandpa did.
But we already found out that he was murdered at sea, a few months ago. I didn’t ask any more questions because I could see how upset our mom was.
“Why did Grandpa remove the pieces from the lighthouse lens?” I ask.
Thomas’s gaze moves to the blue glass lying near the open evidence case.
“Because he couldn’t find what your father hid.”
“What do you mean?”
“James went to Blackwater after the funeral. Whatever Jonathan and your father discovered inside the lighthouse was gone. The navigation table had been altered, and five lens prisms had been removed from the mechanism.”
“Grandpa didn’t remove them?” Storm asks.
“Not originally.”
The room falls silent.
Everything we believed about the five gifts changes.
“Dad took them,” Mom whispers.
Thomas nods. “James believed your husband removed the prisms and used them to conceal the location of the evidence.”
“Then Grandpa found the pieces among Dad’s things,” I say.
“Four of them. The fifth was missing.”
“My compass?”
“Possibly. James searched for it but never told me whether he found it.”
Ben looks at the empty velvet pouch.
“Yet there was another piece hidden aboard Sea Whisper.”
Thomas studies the glass.
“Then one of the five Dad gave us might not contain a piece,” I say.
“Or there are six,” Nathan replies.
Keating’s phone rings before anyone can answer.
He listens briefly.
