Page 8 of The House Beyond the Dunes

“I don’t remember.” Tears well in my eyes. Shit. I never cry. Now twice in one hour. “I remember arriving at the cottage. Dr.Iverson and I were upstairs. He was giving me a tour. We returned to the top of the stairs, and then ... nothing.”

“You met Kyle Iverson a few weeks ago, correct?” His voice softens a little.

“Yes, how did you know that?”

“I spoke to Devon.” When the name doesn’t ring a bell, he adds, “She manages Kyle Iverson’s beach house. She keeps it clean, stocked with supplies, etc. According to her, Kyle told her about you.”

Kyle had given me a number to call in case of an emergency. That must be Devon. Unsettling to have strangers discussing me. “Oh. I didn’t see her today.”

“How did you meet Iverson?”

My pulse throbs along my left side. “Why does this matter?”

“Humor me.”

“We met in the coffee shop where I work,” I say. “He quickly became a regular and asked me out. We’ve been dating casually for a few weeks, but this weekend was supposed to be ...”

“I get it.” Detective Becker drops his gaze briefly as a muscle tenses in his jaw. When he looks up, his arrow-like gaze hasn’t softened. “How long were you at the house?”

“We arrived about noon. I understand we fell around one.”

“The rescue squad arrived about one fifteen.”

Such a remote stretch of beach, yet word traveled so fast. “Who called for help?”

“There’s a contractor working across the street. He dialed 9-1-1.”

“Working over the holidays?”

“Apparently, a pipe burst in the house. It was an emergency, and seeing as he owns the company and everyone was on holiday, he took the call.”

“Right.” Kyle had received a call when we were driving across the bridge, and as we pulled into his driveway, he had glanced toward the black truck parked across the street. He’d looked slightly annoyed. “I suppose I’m lucky he was around. How did he know we fell?”

“The contractor said he heard you and Kyle fighting.” The statement dangles between a question and an accusation.

“What would we have been fighting about? We’d only been on the property an hour.”

He’s staring, as if he’s trying to peel back layers. “I don’t know. Again, you tell me.”

I press fingers to my temple. Suddenly, I’m so exhausted. “We weren’t fighting. We’d just arrived. Maybe he heard a radio or television. Why would we fight?” The last question is more for me.

He shrugs, but his foot doesn’t move off the threshold. “You’re the witness, not me.”

My shoulders slump with fatigue. “I’ve no idea.”

He draws in a breath. “How are you doing, Lane?”

Each time he says my name, there’s extra weight behind it, as if he’s testing its strength. “I’m banged up, but I’m fine. Like the doctor said, I need rest.”

“No one at the hospital was willing to discuss your injuries with me. Even my badge didn’t sway Dr.Jackson.”

“Good. I’m none of your business.” My voice rises with each word. I don’t have the reserves for this now. “Please, remove your foot.”

It doesn’t budge. “When you were with Kyle, did the name Stevie Palmer come up?”

“Who?”

“Stevie Palmer.”

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