Page 47 of Scarred By Sin

“The guest cottage,” Brook repeated as she began to walk toward the main house. Cal fell into step beside her, and the gravel crunched beneath their shoes in an uneven rhythm, his stride longer than hers. “You mean Porter’s cottage?”

“That’s right.”

“Thank you, Cal. That’s helpful.”

“Of course.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and straightened his glasses. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to share some good news with Gwenyth. The lawyer I hired was able to get the hearing delayed until the investigation is concluded. That should buy her some time.”

“I’m sure Gwenyth will appreciate everything you’ve done for her.”

Cal gave her a brief nod and walked at a quicker pace toward the main house. Brook observed his departure before switching her attention to the upper window, where there had been movement earlier. The curtain had been left to fall back in place, and the pane was dark and still. Whether Gwenyth had been watching the confrontation or simply standing at the window the way she often did was impossible to say, but the timing was difficult to dismiss.

Someone had been giving Gwenyth medication for some time now.

Owen had denied the accusation, but no one had asked Cal such a question.

“Mr. Brennan?”

Cal turned back around, his hands still in his pockets.

“Have you ever given Gwenyth medication without a physician’s approval?”

There was no denying the effect of her question. He’d gone perfectly still, and the morning sun seemed to highlight the narrowing of his eyes behind his glasses. Given the situation, her question shouldn’t have come as a shock.

Cal had mentioned that he and Porter had done the best they could when it came to Gwenyth’s care over the years. Porter had confessed to Sylvie that Owen Pruitt had been the one supplying Gwenyth with pills, and clearly, Gwenyth believed that, as well.

Someone was lying.

“No,” Cal finally replied, the word rather clipped. “No, I did not. I understand you have an investigation to conduct, Ms. Sloane. And while I do hope that you figure out who murdered those women and Nestor, please leave Gwenyth alone. She’s already been through too much. She deserves some peace, don’t you agree?”

Cal turned and walked away, not waiting for Brook’s reply. Had she pushed too hard? She didn’t believe so, and she didn’t appreciate the brush-off. Everyone connected with this case didn’t seem affected by the fact that seven women had taken their last breaths on this property.

Porter hadn’t been dead for twenty-four hours, and he seemed to have been forgotten, too.

While Brook didn’t believe in coincidences, one couldn’t argue with facts.

21

Brooklyn Sloane

July 2026

Friday — 10:52 am

The front door of Porter’s cottage was unlocked.

Brook slowly pushed it open and stepped inside, Theo close behind her. The living room was exactly as Sylvie had described it from her interview two days ago. The bottle of whiskey beside the recliner was still there, the glass beside it empty. The second bottle on the kitchen counter remained unopened.

The air inside was stale, though, as if the cottage itself had already begun to understand that its occupant wasn’t coming back. A pair of reading glasses sat folded on the small table beside the recliner, next to a paperback that had been left facedown with the spine cracked to hold the page. Porter had expected to come home, and Brook stood in silence out of respect.

“It’s odd,” Theo eventually said as he closed the door behind them. “You’d think Porter would have mentioned a hidden lab.”

“It wasn’t his job to question things, was it?” Brook moved through the living room leisurely, her gaze sweeping the floorboards, the baseboards, the seams where the walls met the floor. The morning light came through the window facing the main house, casting a bright rectangle across the braided rug and the recliner. The scent of old wood and the faint trace of tobacco still clung to the upholstery. “I noticed a section in the back of the greenhouse that could have been a lab at some point. Multiple worktables, shelving, and additional storage. They all hold planters and ceramic pots now, but the layout suggests the space was originally designed for something else.”

“So, the lab used to be in the greenhouse.”

"I think so. But Nestor moved it for some reason." Brook crouched near the edge of the braided rug and lifted the corner, checking the floorboards underneath. Solid wood, no seams, no hinges. She let the rug fall back into place. "And the only reason to move a lab is if you're working on something you don't want others to see. Think about it. Ward Seldon and Ray Freeling were making deliveries to the estate at least twice a week. They had direct access to the greenhouse. If Nestor was treating those women in the greenhouse, anyone walking in with a delivery would have seen them. A cot, medical supplies, a patient too sick to move. He couldn't risk that. So, he moved his entire operation out of necessity. Somewhere no one would stumble across it."

Theo moved to the opposite side of the room and began checking the walls, pressing against the panels, listening for hollow sounds. His knuckles rapped against the plaster in a slow, systematic pattern, working from one corner toward the window.