Page 64 of The House Beyond the Dunes

I feel sick to my stomach.

“Maybe you figured something out when you two were in the bedroom. Maybe he tried something kinky you didn’t like.”

I remember lying on the bed and Kyle crawling on top of me. The weight of his body had been a little suffocating. Had I panicked?

“Have you seen Kyle’s old house in the woods?” he asks.

“Just from the street. It looks like it’s falling in on itself. However, no dead bodies lying around.”

“This isn’t a joke, Lane.”

I’m very much aware. “Why don’t you get a warrant?”

“No evidence. No probable cause. And anything I find without a warrant won’t be admissible.”

“I don’t know what else to say.”

He clears his throat. “Until I know what happened on those stairs or I find Nikki, Stevie, or Amy, I’m sticking close to you. You’re my only link to Iverson now.”

“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that I barely knew the man.”

“Call me if you find out anything.” His steps echo in the house as he moves past me toward the front door. He pauses, hand on the doorknob. “See you soon, Lane.”

I close and lock the door behind him. There’s no relief after he’s gone. His energy still hums in the house, leaving me restless and worried. Why is he keying in on me? I was Kyle’s friend, maybe even a potential love interest, but that was it. We didn’t have a history, and I certainly wasn’t his confidant.

That said, I can’t believe Kyle would have hurt those women. He never gave me any hint that he was rough.

As I watch Detective Becker back out of the driveway and nose his car south toward the main road, an oily sense of dread slides over my skin.

Chapter Sixteen

LANE

Sunday, December 31, 2023

2:45 p.m.

Minutes after the detective leaves, the front doorbell chimes again as I’m standing at the base of the stairs. The sound echoes through the house, driving chills down my spine. There’s no one I want to see, especially Detective Becker. I consider retreating and hiding until the visitor is gone.

A fist bangs on the door. The sound is more urgent. As much as I want to ignore this person, delaying a problem won’t make it go away. I know because I’ve tried.

I move toward the front entrance, ready to confront the cop. But when I open the door, I’m surprised to see Reece standing on the doorstep. He’s wearing a thick cable-knit sweater, jeans, and a black rain slicker. “That was the cop, wasn’t it?”

Relief floods my system. “Yes.”

“What’s he doing back here?”

“He’s a bulldog. And he’s sunk his teeth into something.”

“Did he upset you?”

“Nothing that I can’t handle.” Mentioning Kyle and the missing women in the same sentence feels ludicrous. “I’m sure this is all routine.”

His expression softens, and I sense true concern. “Just making sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine. I don’t like dealing with him, but I’ll manage. Have you ever heard of Detective Becker? You live in this county.”

“Must be mainland,” Reece says. “I know most of the cops in this area, but not as many on the other side. I’ve never come across him before.”

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