Take It To The Grave (part 4 Of 6)

By Zoe Carter

Part 4 of 6: a thrilling new installment in this darkly compelling psychological thriller

The cry of a frightened child

Maisey thought her nephew's christening party would be the perfect chance to reconnect with her sister, Sarah Taylor–Cox. But Maisey has spent years running from the past, and seeing her estranged family is stirring up long–suppressed memories, memories which are slowly tormenting her and forcing her to question everything she thought she knew.

Not only that, Sarah seems a far cry from the calm, controlled sister who always used to protect her. What is really going on behind the closed doors of the Taylor–Cox's Hamptons mansion?

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Jun 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781489248169

Book preview

Maisey

I ran faster, harder, the impact of my feet on the hard-packed sand jarring my knees, my hips, but I ignored it, slamming my feet into the surface. I’d stood there, in Sarah’s room, cradling the limp, unresponsive body of my baby half brother.

I think I’ve killed the baby. You have to save the baby.

My arms swung at my sides, my legs pumping—faster, faster—and my thighs, my calves, each muscle group burned. I remembered the frantic pleading in my voice. I remembered watching my sister take charge.

Sarah quickly checked Frankie’s pulse, in his wrist and then his neck. My sister knelt over the unconscious toddler as I stood anxiously just inside the doorway, and she pinched Frankie’s nose, breathing into his mouth. Sarah finally looked up. I’ll sort it, Maisey. Don’t worry. It will look like an accident. You’re not in trouble, though, okay? Go back downstairs, and pretend to be asleep.

Relief made my legs shake, and I nodded.

My cheeks are wet now, and my legs were mimicking the tremors of that afternoon so long ago as I pushed myself to the limit, sprinting along the beach.

I walked quietly out to the backyard, and lay down on the chaise longue, not too far away from Alice. I leaned back, closing my eyes, the sun beating down on my face, my chest, my legs, those cicadas still buzzing in the background. The normal sounds of a summer day, yet so grating. I heard the back door open, heard my sister walk, ever so quietly, down the path. I held my breath, my lips curling inward, my eyes itching, as I heard her step into the pool area. Then I listened as Sarah crept back up to the house, and then I jolted at the bloodcurdling scream. I sat up and whirled around as Sarah flew out of the house, the sounds from her voice so alien, so unfamiliar.

Frankie, oh, my God, Frankie!

My blood turned to ice in my veins as Sarah kept screaming.

And then I heard our next-door neighbors’ screen door slam open.

I lurched, bending over as my stomach heaved, and I vomited on the beach, the hot tears streaming down my face.

I told you not to look. Lucy’s voice was angry, harsh.

How could you keep this from me? I wailed in my mind, the sound echoing against the walls of my skull. I took a couple of steps, then fell to my knees, my stomach still twisting, although there was nothing left to bring up.

That’s my job, Maisey. To protect you.

I braced my hands on the sand, clenching my fingers and making little furrows, gasping for breath. Cold sweat broke out on my brow, and my chest rose and fell as I tried to catch my breath. I shook my head.

Not this. I killed my brother! The realization was like a knife to my gut, a bullet to my brain. Cold. Hot. Pain. Remorse. I was bombarded from all directions. How could I do that?

How could you not? Lucy queried.

I coughed, still feeling the burn of stomach acid in my throat, and I blinked. Darkness was edging my consciousness. Lucy was stepping in.

Oh, God. Not again.

Maisey? Hey, are you all right?

Lucy froze. I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, and blinked, then hastily brushed the tears off my cheeks before turning to look up at Caleb. God, how humiliating. He glanced up and down the beach.

I was out for a walk when I saw you here on the beach, he informed me. His momentary distraction gave me enough time to take a deep breath and try and regain some of my composure. I hadn’t expected to see him here. Hadn’t expected to see anyone here, or anyone to see me feed the fish with a very inelegant puke session. God, I needed Lucy. S.T.A.T. Sitting here on my weak and shaky knees, next to a puddle of bile... What would Lucy do? I squeezed my eyes closed for a moment, and let Lucy step in.

I tilted my head back, and Lucy chuckled with just the right amount of regret and derision. It looks like I may have eaten a bad prawn last night. Or oyster. Sarah and Warwick had put on a seafood feast last night that would have fed that little Thai village. Lucy grimaced good-naturedly, and I rose to my feet, ignoring the tremors and locking my knees to prevent me from falling down again. I brushed my hair back from my sweaty forehead, pushing it behind my ears and bringing it back to a semblance of control.

Caleb smiled with sympathy and passed me a bottle of water. Oh, thanks, Lucy responded warmly, and took a swig. I rolled it around in my mouth, trying to swish out any remaining bile, and then I leaned over and spat it out.

Oh, wow, that’s so classy. Sorry, I probably look like shit. Lucy chuckled, low and throaty.

Caleb shook his head. Nah, Maisey, you look great—as always.

Unbidden, a secret, adolescent thrill coursed through me, and Lucy laughed, head back, eyes sparkling and flirty. Despite the horror of my memories, despite the sickness I felt inside, I was able to brush that aside, with Lucy’s help, and surrender to this interlude with Caleb, my life preserver, the salvation of my sanity.

We walked in silence for a moment, our shoes making that soft squeaky sound on the wet sand. Calm washed over me, a soothing balm