Page 116 of Hidden Tide

The pain behind my eyes sharpens.

The stranger at Lands End turns toward me.

For one instant, the fog lifts.

And I see Thomas standing beside him.

13

CALLE

“The most dangerous lie is the one told by someone we have already chosen to trust.”

—James Sinclair

Thomas stands beside the stranger.

The memory lasts less than a second.

Then the fog rolls back in, stealing both men from me.

I pull away from Ben.

“You were there.”

Thomas doesn’t ask what I mean.

The guilt on his face tells me he already knows.

Mom steps between us. “Thomas?”

He lowers himself into the nearest chair.

“I can explain.”

“You have been explaining for two days,” I say. “Every time we uncover another lie, you admit there was one more thing you didn’t tell us.”

“I never lied about Lands End.”

“You let us believe you weren’t there.”

“No one asked me.”

The anger inside me breaks loose.

“No one asked if you stood beside the man who took my father’s film because we didn’t know there was a man. We didn’t know there was film. Until tonight, we didn’t even know our father was murdered in his car instead of dying at sea.”

Thomas looks at the floor.

Mom’s voice trembles. “Daniel trusted you.”

“Yes.”

“Then tell us why you were at Lands End.”

Thomas rubs both hands over the carved handle of his cane.

“Your husband asked me to arrange a meeting with someone outside San Francisco.”