Synopsis

Truth is a tide. You can’t keep it from coming in.

When Janessa “Nessa” Douglas inherits her grandmother’s house in Mystic Beach on the Chesapeake Bay, she intends to sell it and never look back. The locals still whisper about her grandmother, Elspeth, who wrote strange fairy tales about women who kept dangerous secrets.

When a college intern named Ivy Camden vanishes while studying those same folktales, Nessa’s plans are pulled out to sea. Ivy’s research hints that Elspeth’s most infamous story, The Salt Widow, was not born of myth but of murder.

With help from her childhood friend, Nessa begins to unravel the buried history of the town: drowned girls, a power family’s cover-up, and a legacy of silence stretching back more than a century. The deeper she digs, the more she realizes her grandmother’s stories weren’t warnings. They were confessions.

As storms roll in from the bay and old sins rise with the tide, Nessa must decide whether to flee from her family’s darkness or finish what the Salt Widow started.

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Excerpt

I am sitting outside Brandywine and Son Law Offices, sipping my coffee from a paper cup with a leaky lid. The sun hasn’t burned off the mist yet, and the sidewalk still smells like last night’s rain. Across the street, the flag over the post office hangs limp, unmoved by the quiet morning.

I glance at my watch, eight forty-five. Gladys should be here soon to unlock the office.

A police car pulls up beside me in the parking lot. The door opens, and a man with dark, partially dried hair steps out.

“Janessa Douglas, as I live and breathe,” he says, walking over to my window.

A smile plays at the edges of my lips. “Levi Graves. A police officer. Really?”

He shrugs half-heartedly. “Gotta pay the bills somehow, someway.” His sky-colored eyes hold my gaze. “It’s been a minute.”

I look at my lap. “It has.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” he says softly, fueling the ember of guilt in my gut.

“Thanks,” I murmur.

I look up at Levi’s face to see if he’s harboring judgement. He’s not. His facial expression is soft, but I can’t help but notice the edge of hardness underneath. I recognize it as a mirror of my own. There’s too much shared history.

Levi’s shoulders are broader now than when he was seventeen, his jaw more set. His eyes are the same, though, watchful, kind, and haunted by something old and unsettled.

He glances at the law office building. “Settling Elspeth’s estate?”

“Yeah.”

“Sticking around for the memorial?”

I look at his face to see if there’s sarcasm behind his words. He must not know about my grandmother’s stipulation that I stay in town for at least a month. “Yeah, I’ll be here for the memorial.”

A mischievous smile plays on his lips. “Did you know about her rules?”

“What do you mean, her rule?”

“She’s requiring everyone to wear tie-dye to her memorial.”

I laugh. “You’re kidding.”

“Would I kid about something as serious as that? Your grandmother was something else.”

I nod. “Do you have your tie-dye picked out?”

“I’ll be on duty, but I plan to slip on a tie-dye tie for the service.” His eyes take in my white t-shirt and yoga shorts. “Do you have yours?”

I glance down at my clothes. “ I guess I’m going to have to get something.”

The thrum of a distant bass line creeps around the corner before I see her. Gladys pulls into the parking spot on the other side of my van. Fleetwood Mac’s Go Your Own Way blasts from the open driver-side window. The smell of cigarette smoke billows out in thick, lazy swirls.

She doesn’t turn off the car right away. Instead, she just sits there for a beat, her elbow propped up on the window. She taps ash from her cigarette into the breeze. She pulls the movie-star dark glasses down the bridge of her nose and looks at Levi and me.

Finally, she shuts off the ignition. “Well, look at you, handsome,” she says, looking at Levi.

Red creeps up Levi’s neck, but his face stays friendly. “Good morning, Gladys. I see you have a visitor today,” he says, his point jutting in my direction.

Gladys opens the door and steps out. Her lipstick is fire-engine red. Her hair, an unyielding cloud of grayish blond, forms a helmet usually reserved for competitive pageants and riot control.

“Good morning, sunshine,” she calls to me, hoisting her oversized handbag from the passenger seat.

“You’re late,” I say, tapping my watch.

“Time is only a suggestion,” she says, exhaling a thin ribbon of smoke. “Besides, I had to stop for gas. And they were playing my song.” She turns to face Levi. “Back on the morning beat?” she asks, then smirks. “God help us all.”

Levi shakes his head and walks back around his car.

I raise my eyebrow. “You have something against the police, Gladys?”

“Not at all. I think it’s a damn shame when a man that pretty has to wear polyester.”

About the Author

Dr. Teresa Crowe is a professor at Gallaudet University and a clinical social worker with 37 years of experience in behavioral health, specializing in working with deaf and hard-of-hearing individuals. She has authored numerous academic articles on mental health, resilience, and well-being. Teresa’s first book, “Death Space”, is a gripping true crime account of two murders at Gallaudet University, accompanied by four companion books.

In addition to nonfiction, Teresa also writes mysteries and recently published “Tides of Deception: Past Imperfect,” the first novel in her Chesapeake Murder Series. She resides near the Chesapeake Bay in Maryland, where she enjoys reading, camping, and spending time with her husband and dogs.

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