If any listeners out there think they might know something or can potentially help out in some way—please, please contact the hotline the local police have set up. I’ll put those contact details at the end of the episode, and they’re also available on the show’s website.

  Now, without further ado, this is what was on the recording:

  [Short pause, followed by a beep]

  Hi everyone. My name is Kennedy Campbell.

  Five days ago, I was taken from my home by a masked man. I still don’t know who he is, but he’s told me the truth about the Carver case. The truth about who really did it.

  It’s shocking. Almost impossible to believe. But he’s shown me undeniable proof. So I believe him, one hundred percent. And soon, you will too, because the truth will be revealed to the world in just a few days.

  For now, I have to say something very important.

  Mark Campbell—Dad—please listen to this very carefully. I know you’re still out there. I know you’re hiding. But this masked man really does know everything. He knows exactly what happened.

  You have to come back to Corwin Bay. Go to the secret fishing spot you used to take me to when I was a child. Be there at midnight on August 22nd.

  If you don’t… this man is going to kill me.

  [End of partial transcript]

  30

  Kennedy

  Malachi was back again, and this time, he hadn’t locked the cell door behind him. I didn’t know if it was some sort of test, so I didn’t move. Just stared up at him, heart racing.

  “I went to check out that brook in the woods,” he finally said. “Your map was very accurate, and you were right. It’s a good spot. Nice and secluded, and very unlikely that anyone would ever think of it.”

  “That’s what I figured when I suggested it,” I said softly. “Have you heard anything from your colleagues yet?”

  He smiled thinly. “Yes. Every cop in the CBPD assumes that the ‘secret fishing spot’ is somewhere along the coast,” he said. “They’re bringing in reinforcements from Boston PD to swarm every inch of it on the night of August 22nd, all the way from Marblehead to Plum Island. And on my suggestion, they’re also interviewing every angler they can find, professional or hobbyist, to figure out the most likely spots to keep an extra close eye on.”

  “Great,” I murmured.

  He was silent for a moment. “Are you absolutely sure no one else knows about that place?” he finally asked, gaze sharp and searching.

  I nodded. “Mom and Tessa never asked where we went fishing together. I think they just assumed we were going to the beach or the rocks like everyone else in Corwin Bay does,” I said. “And Dad always told me that the only other person who knew about this spot was his father, who showed it to him when he was a kid. But he died twenty years ago.”

  Malachi’s eyes didn’t leave mine. “I really hope you’re not trying to set me up, Kennedy.”

  “Of course not,” I said. “I’m not stupid enough to think I can outsmart you. Not after all the years you’ve put into this plan, and all the people you’ve killed to make it happen.”

  That seemed to please him. He gave me another thin smile. “Good.”

  “Won’t the other cops expect you to be front and center of the operation that night?” I asked, brows rising. “Seeing as you’re the lead detective on the Carver case.”

  “Of course,” he said, smile turning slightly devious. “But, unfortunately, I’ll be coming down with an awful case of fictional food poisoning that evening. No choice but to go home and let someone else take the lead.”

  “I see.”

  “Anyway…” He turned toward the open cell door and gestured. “I promised you a new room in return for your help. So let’s get out of here.”

  I rose unsteadily to my feet and followed him out. Part of me was surprised that he’d actually kept his word. I’d half-expected a bullet between the eyes instead.

  At the top of the stairs, he led me outside and over to his black sedan. Once we were there, he pulled two coils of dark red rope from his jacket pocket.

  “It’s pretty unlikely that we’ll pass anyone on the road out here, but just in case, I’m going to have to bind your wrists and ankles,” he said. “You understand, don’t you?”

  I nodded and held out my arms without protest. He tied my wrists together in front of me, firmly but not brutally. Then he guided me into the back seat and knelt to bind my ankles, leaving me stretched out and immobilized.

  With a satisfied grunt, he patted my thigh and closed the door.

  Because I was lying down, I couldn’t see much when the car started moving; just a blur of trees through the window. After a while, that gave way to a wash of flat gray sky, then more forest again.

  I tried to keep count in my head. By the time we stopped, I estimated we’d been driving for around twenty minutes.

  When the engine finally went quiet, I heard the faint roar of the ocean along with the screech of a gull. Malachi’s door opened, then mine. I tensed automatically, unsure what came next.

  He leaned down, blocking the sky. “We’re here.”

  He untied my ankles first, then my wrists, his fingers brushing my skin with a familiarity that made me flinch. He noticed.

  “I’m not going to hurt you, Kennedy,” he said. His voice was soft, almost disappointed, like I’d insulted him by thinking otherwise. “I told you that.”

  I pushed myself upright and swung my legs out of the car, blinking at the view.

  “This is my home,” he said, gesturing ahead. “And now it’s yours too.”

  The house in front of us looked like it had been plucked from a dream. Three stories of soft white wood and pale stone with delicate wraparound balconies that framed the upper levels. It was nestled between a dense stretch of pine forest and a windswept cliffside.

  “It’s beautiful,” I murmured.

  Malachi smiled faintly. “I thought you’d like it.”

  I looked around again. “Where exactly are we?”

  “About halfway between Boston and Corwin Bay. So thirty minutes either way, depending on which one you want to go to.”

  “That’s convenient.”

  “Yeah. Convenient and isolated,” he said. “A lot of the land out here is part of a conservation area, so the nearest neighbor is a ten-minute drive away. That’s why I didn’t gag you. Because even if you screamed, no one would hear you.”

  “Right,” I muttered, eyes still on the gorgeous house. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but how did you afford such an amazing coastal property on a detective’s salary?”

  Malachi smiled again. “Detectives in this state are actually paid quite well, so I’m not exactly struggling,” he said. “But, admittedly, I had some help from Elijah. I told you he was independently wealthy, didn’t I?”

  I nodded slowly. “So he left his money to you and your sisters when he… passed.”

  “A lot of it, yes. But he also left some of his fortune to charities and scholarship funds. He was a good man,” he said quietly. His smile had faded now, and his expression had darkened.

  “I wish I could’ve met him,” I said.

  I wasn’t quite sure why I said it, but it didn’t seem to bother Malachi at all. In fact, it actually seemed to soften his face a little.

  “Come on,” he said, gesturing ahead. “Let’s get you inside before the rain hits.”

  Sure enough, clouds were gathering low and heavy in the slate-gray sky. I followed him up a stone path flanked by thick hedges and wildflowers, everything smelling of pine and sea spray.

  When we reached the front door, Malachi unlocked it and stepped aside to let me enter first.

  The inside of the house was just as beautiful as the exterior. Warm wood floors, high ceilings, and a wall of glass on the right that looked out over the cliffs to the ocean beyond. To the left was a sleek kitchen outfitted with marble countertops and cream-colored cabinetry. Directly ahead, there was a sprawling living space with a fireplace, leather furniture, and shelves filled with books.

  I hovered awkwardly near the entrance, unsure where to go or what to do. Then I spotted a door near the kitchen. It was halfway open, and beyond it, I could make out some stairs leading downward.

  I began walking toward it, but Malachi stopped me, laying a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Where are you going?”

  “The basement,” I replied, pointing to the door. “That’s the way, right?”

  “I’m not putting you in the basement,” he said, eyes flickering with something unreadable. “Your room’s upstairs. Third floor. It has the best view in the house.”

  I didn’t move, unsure if he was messing with me or not.

  He tilted his head. “Kennedy, I promised you a nice place, and I keep my promises. This isn’t a trap.”

  I finally stepped forward and trailed him up the wide staircase. When we reached the third floor, he opened a door at the end of the hall and stepped back, letting me enter first.

  The space beyond was huge and stunning, like something out of a magazine. There was a king-sized bed draped in layered blankets, a reading nook by the window, a living area with a sofa and TV, and a whole wall dedicated to books. There was even a vase of fresh flowers on the nightstand. The only hint that I was going to be a prisoner in here was the row of metal bars on the window.

  “You can try, but there’s no way out of this room once I’ve locked the door,” Malachi said, studying my face.

  “I don’t doubt that,” I murmured.

  He gestured toward another door on the right. “That’s the bathroom. You can shower now while I get you some food,” he said. “There’s fresh towels in there, and clothes for you in the closet.”

  I nodded listlessly and stepped into the bathroom. It was bright and airy, with white tiles, a marble countertop, a freestanding tub beneath a slanted skylight, and a walk-in shower with rainfall settings.

  I turned on the shower, stripped off the clothes I’d been wearing for five straight days, and stepped under the stream of hot water.

  The moment it hit me, I nearly sobbed.

  I hadn’t realized just how disgusting I felt until the grime and sweat began to wash away. I stayed under the water until the mirror fogged, scrubbing my skin raw with floral-scented soap. Then I washed my hair three times, just to be sure.

  When I finally turned off the water, I stood still for a moment, enjoying the peace and quiet as steam curled around me. Then I took a deep breath and stepped out of the enclosure, knowing I couldn’t hide from my new reality forever.

  There was a bathrobe hanging on the back of the door, so I wrapped it around myself and towel-dried my hair as best I could before stepping back into the bedroom. Malachi was waiting for me, sitting on the end of the bed.

  His eyes swept over me, and I saw something flash in them. Hunger, maybe, or satisfaction. I couldn’t tell.

  “I wasn’t sure what you’d want to eat,” he said, gesturing toward a series of trays laid out on the coffee table that stood in front of the sofa. “So I brought all your favorites.”

  I looked down at the spread. There was a creamy mushroom risotto, grilled cheese with tomato soup, fries, a little bowl of red roasted peppers and olives, and an iced coffee with cold foam. There was even a plate of strawberries next to an open jar of Nutella with a spoon stuck in it.

  I’d never mentioned that particular guilty pleasure snack to anyone before, but Malachi must’ve seen me eat it when he was watching me through my security system all those times.

  My mouth started to water, and I picked up a strawberry and popped it in my mouth, followed by a tiny spoonful of the Nutella. As I chewed, I couldn’t help but let out a groan of satisfaction, and I quickly swallowed before gobbling down three more strawberries mixed with chocolatey goodness.

  It suddenly occurred to me that this might be the perfect moment to begin my manipulation. I could pretend I was so starved for comfort after all that time in the cell that the food and little luxuries were totally overwhelming me, leaving me no choice but to fling myself at my generous captor out of sheer gratitude.

  I set the spoon down and slowly walked toward him.

  “Thank you,” I murmured, keeping my voice gentle, almost shy, as I sank down next to him on the edge of the bed.

  His gaze lifted to mine. “For what?” he asked, brows lifting. “Locking you up?”

  “No, just… for not lying to me,” I said. “Before you brought me here, I wasn’t sure if trusting you was the right decision. But now I know it was. You’re actually taking care of me, just like you promised, and you’ve obviously put a lot of work into making this room nice for me. So if I have to be trapped somewhere… well, I’m glad it’s here. It beats the hell out of that horrible cell.”

  Malachi nodded slowly. “I knew you’d like it in here,” he said. “I’ve known what you like for a long time now.”

  I hesitated, fingers knitting on my lap. “I guess I was wrong the other day, when I said you can’t get to know a person just from watching them,” I said. I paused, inching a little closer. “And I guess the cold hard reality is: you didn’t have to do any of this for me in the end. You could’ve just left me to rot and die. But you didn’t.”

  I let the silence sit for a beat.

  “So… thank you again,” I added, softer now.

  With that, I leaned even closer. Our lips were only a breath apart when Malachi exhaled sharply and caught my shoulders in his hands, pushing me back. Not harshly, but firmly.

  “Stop,” he said in a low voice, shaking his head. “I know you don’t want to kiss me right now.”

  I blinked. “But I… I do.”

  It wasn’t a total lie. He was still the most devastatingly handsome man I’d ever seen, after all, so kissing him wouldn’t exactly be a hardship for me.

  A faint smile tugged at his mouth. “I’m not stupid, Kennedy. I know you’re just trying to manipulate me,” he said. “You’re hoping I’ll start to trust you and drop my guard around you so you can eventually steal a key from me, or something like that. Right?”

  Shit. I’d made things way too obvious.

  I really should’ve been more patient. Bided my time until my sweet compliance didn’t seem so suspicious.

  “That’s not true,” I said, still hoping to salvage the situation somehow.

  Malachi stood, putting space between us. “I kidnapped you and kept you in a cell for five days. I’m also planning on killing your beloved father in three days,” he said, eyes narrowing. “You really expect me to believe that you want me after all that?”

  “Look, I know it’s messed up, but you know me. You know what I’m like,” I said, rising to my feet as well. “I can’t help wanting things, even when I know they’re dangerous or bad for me. And I’ve always wanted you. Even after all the terrible, fucked-up things you’ve done to me. I… I can’t help it.”

  His expression flickered, something unreadable passing behind his eyes. “You never wanted me, Kennedy,” he said in a low voice. “You wanted the Carver. Or at least the man you thought was the Carver.”

  “That’s not true,” I said, cheeks flushing hot.

  “Yes, it is. You didn’t even know it was me under the mask until a few days ago,” he said evenly. “It was all a fantasy to you. So you would’ve wanted whoever was beneath that mask, no matter who it turned out to be. That’s not the same as wanting me, is it?”

  I froze as I considered his words. What he’d said about my dark fantasies might’ve been true once upon a time, but somewhere along the line, something had changed.

  If he’d taken off that skull mask the other night to reveal anyone other than him, my fantasy would’ve been shattered. But that didn’t happen. Instead, the fantasy had deepened.

  “You’re wrong,” I said, shaking my head. “There were other people I suspected, and I never wanted them. Like Jacob King. If it turned out to be him, I would’ve been horrified. Especially after what he did to me at the recording studio.”

  Malachi’s gaze sharpened. “Who else did you suspect?”

  I hesitated. “Well… it also briefly crossed my mind that it could’ve been my stepbrother. He’s been acting kind of weird lately.”

  “Dec’s not a bad-looking guy,” he said, brows rising. “You’re telling me you would’ve been horrified if it was him under the mask?”

  “Yes. I know he’s an attractive guy, but I’ve never seen him that way. He’s like family to me. So if that mask had come off and it was him underneath it, then honestly, I think I might’ve thrown up,” I said. I paused, tilting my head slightly. “But you… I actually really liked you, Malachi. I thought about you in that kind of way. A lot.”

  A shocking realization hit me as I said the words.

  This wasn’t just a manipulation strategy now. I was actually telling the truth.

  Malachi really was the only man I'd thought about recently in romantic terms. When he’d kissed me that night a couple of weeks ago, I’d practically melted, and the only reason I hadn’t let it go any further was fear. Fear that my masked stalker would get jealous and hurt him, and fear that my fantasies were too dark for someone like him.

  So to discover that he was both Malachi the protective nice guy and the masked stalker who could fulfill every dark, sensual wish I’d ever had... well, that gave me the best of both worlds, didn’t it?

  It was twisted, and it was sick, but in the most fucked-up way imaginable, he was quite literally everything I’d ever wanted or needed.

  “You’re all I want, Malachi,” I whispered. “Honestly.”

  He didn’t say anything. His expression was tight, unreadable, as he studied me like he was trying to decide if I was lying or just painfully naive.

  I held my ground and kept talking.

  “Look… after everything you’ve told me, I get why you stalked me for so long,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady as I met his eyes. “You were looking for my father, or at least some sort of proof that I was in contact with him. So yeah, it’s messed up, but I get it.”