Chapter 69

Someone pounded on Sarah’s door. In her dream, the Karl sea lion pounded on the rock in triumph after he pushed off the last foe. But this wasn’t Karl. This was someone outside her room. Frances Noonan and Alma Gordon, apparently.

Sleepy and alarmed, Sarah flung open the door. “Mrs. Noonan! What are you doing here?”

“Helen? Helen?” Mrs. Noonan called.

“She’s not here,” Sarah said. “She went down to the beach to see the sea lions.”

“In this weather?” said Mr. Glenn.

Sarah looked out past them. “When did the fog come in?”

“How long have you been asleep?” asked Mrs. Noonan.

“What time is it now?”

“Noon,” said Mr. Glenn.

“Wow. An hour or two. The weather was nice when I fell asleep. Hmm. Helen’s been gone a long time.” Sarah shook her head and breathed in the cold air to clear her mind.

“Sarah, we think Helen’s in danger.” Mrs. Noonan told her about Serena’s letter. “George the maintenance man killed all those parents,” Mrs. Noonan said.

“George? George, Glenda’s husband?”

“Yes, he’s lost weight and he looks like a new man, but he is exactly the same man that worked at Serena’s country club at the time her husband was brutally murdered, and he now works here, where two more parents have visited and then been killed. And he’s from Philadelphia and still visits there and that’s where Shelley Stalk was killed. He’s a murderer. We’ve got to find Helen.”

“It’s his day off, so he could be anywhere,” Mr. Glenn said. “He could be with Helen.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” Sarah said. Something seemed off. What was she not remembering? “How long ago was Serena’s husband killed?”

“Four years ago, the day after Christmas,” Mrs. Noonan said.

That’s right, Sarah thought, the same Christmas my boyfriend dumped me. She said, “Four years ago on Christmas, George was lying half dead in the ICU after his heart attack. It can’t be George.”

“What? Are you sure?” asked Mrs. Noonan. “Did we get this wrong? I was so certain, certain that coincidences like this don’t happen, three family tragedies, one man with ties to all. But maybe they do.”

“No, no.” Sarah strained to think. “There’s something else.”

“Now I feel foolish, racing down here convinced you were about to be murdered. What was I thinking? It’s a wonder we didn’t drive off the road into the sea,” Mrs. Noonan said.

“I’m glad it’s not George,” Mr. Glenn said. “I like him. He’s been through some dark times.”

That’s just what Glenda had said. She and George had been through some dark times.

“George may not have been the only one who worked at that country club.” Sarah rushed to get the thought out. “Glenda said the proprietor here knew George and offered him this job because George was so skilled at what he did. If Serena recognized George from the country club, then that might be where they worked together. If so, the proprietor was in both places as well.”

Sarah’s mind filled with a vision of Allen Werble, courteous to the point of obsequiousness. She remembered how he hovered in the dining room, being first on the spot when Ben kicked over the water into Andrea’s lap or offering his opinions on alcohol and breastfeeding. She remembered him rushing over when Scott started shouting in the parking lot. And how he had all their information on his registration cards. Her head whooshed, and she steadied herself on the doorframe.

“It’s the proprietor,” she said.

“The proprietor? We just saw him in the office. He knows we’re here,” said Mrs. Noonan. “We’ve got to get going.”

“We have to find Helen,” Sarah said.

“Helen,” said Baby Owen. Sarah jumped. She had not noticed Owen tucked into Mr. Glenn’s jacket, but now she saw the back of his little head.

If Baby Owen was here…“Didn’t you say Mrs. Gordon was here too?” asked Sarah. “Where is she?”

Mr. Glenn whipped around, so fast Baby Owen let out a cry. “She was right behind me.”

“I never saw her,” Sarah told them.

“Let’s go,” said Mrs. Noonan. “We’ve got to find them.”