SWNOVELXO Chapter 5: Down time
JJ's Point of View
The midday sun beat down on Cameron's infinity pool, though I barely noticed it anymore. After practically growing up here, the luxury had become background noise. I was stretched out on my usual lounger—the one Rose had specifically bought because I complained about the others being too stiff.
"You're burning," Rafe commented from the pool, water dripping from his hair as he rested his arms on the edge. "Rose's going to have a fit if you show up to the club dinner looking like a lobster."
"Rose loves me more than you anyway," I replied with the easy confidence of someone who'd been an honorary Cameron since preschool. Rose had always treated me like her fourth child since she was close to my mom.
The peaceful afternoon shattered as Sarah's voice carried from inside the house. "I saw the texts, Topper! Don't lie to me!"
"Here we go," Rafe muttered, pulling himself out of the pool. Sarah had been my best friend since we were in diapers—back when we held elaborate tea parties for our stuffed animals in Cameron's garden. Now she was storming out of the house with Topper on her heels, and I felt that familiar protective instinct kick in.
"They meant nothing!" Topper insisted, grabbing Sarah's wrist. "Madison was just—"
"Madison was just what?" Sarah spun around, yanking her arm free. "Just helping you study? At midnight? With heart emojis?"
I sat up straighter, exchanging a look with Rafe. We'd never liked Topper—he was new money, trying too hard to fit in with families like ours who'd been in Figure Eight for generations. Sarah caught my eye, and I saw that familiar flash of understanding pass between us.
"You want to know what's funny?" she said, her voice taking on that steel edge she'd inherited from Rose. "You've been so worried about me and JJ when you're sneaking around with Madison."
"Because you two are always together," Topper snapped. "Everyone knows you're still in love with him."
"We grew up together, you idiot," Sarah shot back. "He's my best friend. But you're so insecure about your place here that you can't handle the fact that some of us belong."
"Sarah," Rafe warned, but she was on a roll.
"You're so desperate to prove you're one of us that you can't even see how pathetic you look," she continued. "Threatening to tell Dad about the compass just to keep me with you? And then cheating with Madison?"
I stood up, suddenly very aware of the tension crackling in the air. "Maybe we should—"
"Stay out of this, Genrette," Topper snarled. "Just because your mother's the most respected doctor on the island—"
"Don't," I cut him off, my voice dropping low. "Don't talk about my mother."
"Or what?" Topper sneered. "You'll call your country club friends? Get me blacklisted from the yacht club like you did to John B when he tried asking Sarah out?"
"That was different," I said coolly. "John B was dealing drugs at the club. You're just pathetic."
Rafe stepped between us before Topper could respond. "That's enough. Top, you need to leave."
"This isn't over," Topper warned, backing away. "Your little secret about the compass? It won't stay secret forever."
As he stormed off, Sarah collapsed into her usual chair next to mine, her hands shaking slightly. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I didn't mean to bring up the compass."
I squeezed her hand—the same way I had when we were kids and she was scared of thunderstorms. "Remember when life was simple and our biggest drama was fighting over who got to drive the golf cart?"
She laughed weakly, leaning her head against my shoulder. "God, J. When did everything get so complicated?"
"Probably around the time we found that stupid compass" Rafe answered, sitting on Sarah's other side.
My phone buzzed in my pocket—another text from Mom: *The marsh holds more than just treasures, baby. Some secrets should stay buried, especially ones that could destroy families like ours.*
I showed it to Sarah and Rafe, watching their expressions darken.
"Your mom knows something," Sarah murmured. "About what we found in Dad's study?"
"About everything," I replied, staring at the message. The weight of being Dr. Genrette's son and son of Chandler Groff who I've seen much since the split suddenly felt heavier than usual. "Question is, how many others do too?"
The afternoon sun cast long shadows across the pool, and I couldn't shake the feeling that we were all in way over our heads. Between Topper's threats, my mom's cryptic warnings, and whatever that Pogue girl Kiara had slipped into my pocket last night at the Boneyard, it felt like the careful world we'd built was about to crack.
And somehow, I knew we were all going to fall right through.I pulled the crumpled note from my pocket—the one Kiara had pressed into my hand at the Boneyard. Her fingers had lingered longer than necessary, and there'd been something in her eyes that made me uncomfortable. Not because she was a Pogue—I wasn't Topper, for God's sake—but because she looked at me like she knew something. Something about my father, about the compass, about everything.
"You haven't opened it?" Sarah asked, reaching for the note. I pulled it away instinctively.
"Not yet." I smoothed out the paper, studying Kiara's messy handwriting. *Your father's marina project isn't what you think. Meet me at Leviathan's Cove. Midnight. Come alone.*
"Well, that's not ominous at all," Rafe said, reading over my shoulder. "You're not going, right?"
I thought about the way Kiara had looked at me—not with the usual Pogue hostility, but with something closer to pity. "I might have to."
Sarah sat up straighter. "JJ, no. The last time a Pogue tried to 'warn' one of us about anything, John B ended up in handcuffs."
"That was different," I argued, though my stomach twisted at the memory. "John B was dealing—"
"Was he?" Sarah challenged. "Or was that just what everyone decided to believe because it was easier than looking deeper?"
The question hung in the air between us, heavy with implications. I'd never admitted my doubts about John B's arrest, not even to Sarah. It had been easier to accept the official story: that the troubled Pogue kid had been caught dealing at the yacht club, that my father's testimony about finding drugs in John B's locker had sealed his fate. Easier than wondering why John B had been so desperate to talk to me that day, why he'd kept saying my mother's name over and over as they led him away.
"Your mom's text," Rafe said suddenly. "The marsh holds more than treasures... you don't think she means—"
"The body," Sarah finished quietly. "The one they never found."
My phone buzzed again. Another text from Mom: *Stay away from the Pogues, baby. Some lines weren't meant to be crossed.*
"Okay, this is getting weird," Sarah declared, standing up. "First Topper threatens to tell your father about the compass, then Kiara shows up with cryptic messages, and now your mom's going full fortune cookie? We need to figure out what's going on."
"We could start with the compass," Rafe suggested. "Dad's been acting strange ever since we found it. Yesterday I caught him burning papers in his study at 3 AM."
I thought about the compass, currently hidden in the false bottom of my desk drawer. It looked antique, but unremarkable—just a brass navigational tool with strange markings around the edge. But the way Ward Cameron's face had drained of color when he caught us examining it...
"It has to be connected to the marina project," I said slowly. "Your dad's been pushing it through despite all the environmental protests, and my father's been backing him every step of the way. They're spending millions to dredge that specific section of marsh—"
"The same section where they never found the body," Sarah whispered.
My phone buzzed one final time. Not Mom this time, but an unknown number: *Like father, like son. But you're not like him, are you, JJ? Prove it. Midnight.*
The sun was setting now, casting long shadows across the pool. Sarah and Rafe were both looking at me, waiting. We'd spent our whole lives in this golden bubble of Figure Eight privilege, playing by rules set by our parents. But maybe it was time to break them.
"I'm going," I decided. "To meet Kiara."
"Then we're coming with you," Sarah said immediately.
I shook my head. "The note said to come alone."
"Since when do we follow Pogue rules?" Rafe asked, but there was uncertainty in his voice.
I looked down at my phone, at my mother's warnings, at the mysterious text. "Since they started making more sense than our own."
The compass in my drawer seemed to grow heavier with each passing second like it was pulling me toward something I wasn't sure I wanted to find. But I was tired of pretending not to see the cracks in our perfect world. Tired of ignoring the way my father's hands shook when he performed surgery, the whispers about missing money at the hospital, and the strange meetings with Ward Cameron in the middle of the night.
"Midnight," I said firmly. "I'm going alone. But I need you two to do something for me."
Sarah nodded. "Anything."
"If I'm not back by 2 AM, open the envelope on my desk. The one marked 'insurance.' And Sarah?" I caught her eye. "Whatever you find out... remember that some of us actually do belong here. Together."
She squeezed my hand, understanding passing between us like it had since we were kids. Whatever secrets lay buried in the marsh, whatever truth Kiara wanted to reveal, one thing wouldn't change: Sarah Cameron was my best friend, and some bonds were stronger than blood.
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Even if that blood turned out to be darker than any of us imagined. The security lights around Cameron's pool cast an eerie glow as I slipped through the garden gate at 2:30 AM. Sarah and Rafe were exactly where I knew they'd be—curled up on the outdoor sofas, pretending to be casual even though the half-empty coffee cups and Sarah's bitten nails told me they'd been anything but.
"Jesus, J," Sarah breathed, jumping up. "We were about to open the envelope."
"Sorry," I managed, collapsing onto the nearest chair. My clothes were still damp from the marsh, and there was mud caked on my designer shoes. Rose would have a fit if she saw them. Somehow, that seemed hilariously unimportant now.
"You look like hell," Rafe observed, studying my face. "What happened out there?"
I laughed, but it came out hollow. "Remember when we were kids, and we used to make up stories about secret treasure buried in the marsh? Turns out we weren't creative enough."
Sarah sat next to me, her shoulder pressing against mine in that familiar way that usually brought comfort. Tonight, it just reminded me of everything we stood to lose. "Tell us," she said quietly.
"Kiara showed me something," I started, then stopped, trying to find the words. How do you tell your best friends that everything they thought they knew about their family was a lie? That their father... that my father...
"JJ," Sarah prompted. "Whatever it is, we can handle it."
I pulled out my phone and brought up the photos Kiara had shown me. The first one showed Ward Cameron, and my father standing on a boat—not unusual, except for the date stamp. "This was taken the night John B was arrested. When Mom was in Charleston for a medical conference."
Rafe leaned in, frowning. "That doesn't prove anything."
"Look at the next one."
The second photo showed the same boat but from a different angle. The name was clearly visible: "The Royal Merchant." The same boat that had been reported stolen and found burned three days later. The boat John B had allegedly used for his drug runs.
"Keep going," I said quietly.
Sarah's hand trembled as she swiped to the next photo. This one showed the compass—our compass—but it wasn't alone. There were documents spread out on what looked like Ward's desk and in the corner...
"Is that..." Sarah's voice cracked. "Is that blood?"
"Kiara's father was a security guard at the marina back then," I explained, the words tasting bitter. "He saw something the night John B was arrested. Something about a missing shipment, about money that wasn't supposed to exist. He tried to report it, but..."
"But what?" Rafe demanded.
"But two days later, he was fired. Lost his house, his reputation. No one would hire him. Sound familiar?"
Sarah stood up abruptly, pacing. "Like what happened to John B's dad before he disappeared."
"The compass isn't just a compass," I continued. "It's a key. Those markings around the edge? They're coordinates. Kiara's been putting it together for months. The marina project, the dredging—it's not about development. Your dad and my dad are looking for something. Something that went missing the night John B was arrested."
"The missing shipment," Rafe said slowly.
I nodded. "Twenty million in gold bonds. Untraceable. Perfect for laundering money from the hospital's 'charitable foundation.'"
Sarah stopped pacing. "The foundation my mom runs."
"The one that's been accepting massive donations from shell companies," I confirmed. "Companies that, according to Kiara's research, all trace back to one person: Chandler groff. My father."
The silence that followed was deafening. Sarah sank back onto the sofa, her face pale. "John B knew, didn't he? That's why he wanted to talk to you that day at the club."
"Kiara found his journal. He'd figured most of it out, and was gathering proof. But he made a mistake—he confronted my father directly. Told him he knew about the money laundering, about the kickbacks from the hospital contracts awarded to Ward's construction company."
"And your dad framed him," Rafe concluded.
"With help from yours." I looked at Sarah, hating the pain in her eyes but knowing she needed to hear this. "The drugs they 'found' in his locker? Planted. The witness who claimed to buy from him? Paid off. They destroyed his life to protect their secret."
"What about the body in the marsh?" Sarah asked, her voice barely a whisper.
I swallowed hard. "Kiara thinks... she thinks John B's dad found out too. That's why he disappeared. And now, with the dredging about to start..."
"They're not looking for gold," Rafe realized. "They're making sure nothing else comes up with it."
My phone buzzed—another text from Mom: *Did you listen, baby? Did you stay away?*
Sarah read it over my shoulder and suddenly grabbed my arm. "JJ, if they find out you know..."
"They won't," I said firmly. "Not yet. Not until we figure out how to prove everything."
"We?" Rafe raised an eyebrow. "You're not seriously thinking of helping the Pogues?"
"I'm thinking of helping John B," I corrected. "And maybe... maybe finally being the kind of person who deserves to belong here. Not because of my last name or my father's position, but because I did the right thing."
Sarah took my hand, and I saw the determination in her eyes—the same look she used to get before our childhood adventures. "Then we're helping too. Whatever it takes."
"It'll change everything," I warned. "Once we start this..."
"Some things need to change," she said simply.
The sun was starting to rise, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. In a few hours, our parents would wake up. They'd go about their daily routines, attend their meetings, and plan their charity galas. And we'd smile and play our parts like we always had.
But something had shifted. The compass in my drawer wasn't just an antique anymore—it was a weapon. And we were finally learning how to use it.
"Okay," I said, squeezing Sarah's hand.