Page 98 of The House Beyond the Dunes

Gripping my phone, I fold the fingers of my other hand into a fist. I start a jog, wincing almost immediately as I put the stress on my injured hip. I slow to a fast walk. I can hear the reeds and woods around me rustling as if I’m being tracked.

“What are you doing in the house?” Earl asks.

The dunes are getting closer. I can’t outrun anyone, but I keep moving, my teeth gritting against the discomfort. My heart hammers in my chest.

“I was looking for Stevie and Nikki, Earl. Have you seen them?”

The rustling stops, but I can feel him staring at me. I face him. “Were you with Jeb when he took that girl?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He’s in the woods, surrounded by the thick trees, and it’s hard to know exactly where he is. I’m moving slowly now. “I never hurt nobody,” he says.

“Someone was hurt in that house. And not a long time ago but recently. Did Kyle bring a woman up here last summer?”

Branches rustle.

I look back and see him on the road. He’s walking toward me, but his pace is slow and steady. “I don’t know Nikki or Stevie. And Jeb and Kyle are dead.”

“Did they hurt girls?”

“You ask too many questions. No one up here likes questions. And there are plenty of places to hide a woman like you. Leave while you can.”

I start moving again toward the dunes. Blood rushes my body and pounds against my eardrums, deafening me to anything around me.

When I reach the dunes, I look back. There’s no sign of Earl. I haul in a breath and then shove it out.

I walk quickly toward the ocean. The wind gets stronger, colder as I get closer. The clouds have thickened, and portions are shaded with dark grays and streaked with black. Soon the storm hovering in the east will hit the shore.

Reece’s gloves feel bulky and out of place in my pockets, and I’m not sure how I’m going to return them without explaining. Maybe I can drop them by his truck or at the base of the stairs.

As I approach the row of houses, a black horse appears on the dunes. He studies me, snorts, and begins to move toward me. I back up, holding my hands up. “I don’t want trouble, pal.”

He’s large, and his muscled legs are built for power. If he charges me, I’m powerless to stop him. I still, hold my breath. Finally, the creature stops, paws at the sand, and then walks away as if I’m of no interest.

Shoving out a breath, I limp over the dunes and return via the beach. If I’m spotted by Devon or Reece, my story will at least match my location now.

I don’t want Reece to know I was in the woods or at Kyle’s old home. No one here needs to know my business. The only reason I’m staying now is because of Stevie and Nikki.

Jeb, Earl, Zeke, Reece, or even Kyle kidnapped and raped a young girl. Kyle had met Stevie in the bar where Nikki worked. Nikki vanished. Nikki looks like me. Stevie asked hard questions. Now she’s gone.

Every person is a creature of habit. Maybe Kyle had a thing for working-class women. He had the perfect house to tuck a woman away for as long as he wanted. And if a woman were to die up here, it would be easy to hide her body.

Blood rushes my head, pounding alongside the champagne hangover. Maybe I’m alive because I’m just damn lucky.

Chapter Twenty-Five

LANE

Monday, January 1, 2024

8:30 a.m.

I’m limping by the time I climb over the dunes and walk toward Kyle’s house. The nerves in my left leg are burning as I climb up the beach house’s back stairs. Across the street I hear Reece’s truck door slam closed.

I toss him a wave. He looks frustrated. “Everything all right?”

“Misplaced my gloves,” he says. “They were my favorite pair.”

Climbing down the stairs, I notice the bandage on his hand. “Do you have another set?”

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