Page 41 of The House Beyond the Dunes

“Thanks.”

A gust of wind whips over the beach, sweeping stinging sand against my legs. “Do you know if funeral arrangements have been made?”

“There’ll be a service in two weeks. He wanted his body cremated. Never liked the idea of being buried in the ground.”

That’s a common fear. “Who told you about the funeral?”

“Kyle left me in charge. He said if anything ever happened to him, I was to see him properly cremated.”

“Oh, okay.”

“Kyle gave me your phone number. I’ll be sure to text or call when I have details. You don’t mind that I call, right?”

“No. And thank you.” A deep breath expands my lungs. Shifting away from Kyle’s funeral, I toss a different line in the water. “I met Reece last night. He’s an interesting guy. Did he know Kyle, too?”

“He did.”

Her tone suggests tension. “Something is swirling under that statement.”

Devon laughs. “I’ve never mastered subtle.”

“Did Reece and Kyle not get along?”

“Reece and Kyle had some issues. But Kyle still sent a lot of work Reece’s way. They were like brothers. Fight but still look out for each other. In the last few years, Kyle’s not been up here as much, so they’ve been able to avoid each other pretty well.”

“Reece was here on Friday fixing a pipe.”

“That’s right.”

“He said he heard Kyle and me arguing right before the fall.”

“Then I guess it’s true.” Devon’s face softens a fraction. “Reece is a good guy. He wouldn’t repeat a story like that if it wasn’t true.”

“We weren’t fighting,” I say, more to myself.

“You were if Reece said you were.”

“Does he live up here?”

“He lives on the mainland and only comes these days when I call with a repair job. When I stepped into the house across the street andinto two inches of water, I knew the cleanup was going to be big. Reece was my first call.”

“You manage that house, too?”

“That one and a half dozen others. I’m the eyes and ears for the owners when they can’t be here. When the houses are empty, I walk them all a few times a week.”

Wind rolls over the deserted beach like tumbleweeds. Whatever glimpse of beauty I’d seen on Friday is gone. I don’t like this place. It’s too isolated. Too cold. Kyle said this area represented peace and belonging, but I don’t see it.

“How long has Kyle owned this house?” I should know, but I realize all the conversations I had with Kyle didn’t reveal much about his life. He always refocused the conversation on me. I never worried about it before now. I thought he was a private man, and I’d learn more during the getting-to-know-you part of our relationship.

Devon’s head cocks. “He built this house about three years ago.”

The house is stunning and pure luxury, but the route here through rutted sand, past exposed tree trunks, and around the shifting tides doesn’t scream welcome. “This is all news to me. I thought Kyle was a city boy.”

“He made himself into one. What he loved most about this area was the solitude. He liked breaks from city chaos.”

I look around the barren beach, and I try to wrap my head around Kyle growing up in this raw and wild land. He was always so reserved, quiet. Polished. Prided himself on the way he dressed, living well, and making a name for himself. I liked that about him. It was nice to have someone pamper me, if only for a little while. “I can’t picture Kyle as a child, much less growing up here.”

“He was five when I first met him. He came from a family of three boys. All the Iverson boys ran wild up here. They all loved riding their father’s truck up and down the beach and the dunes. They’d head toward the sound with their fishing poles, or they’d hike into thewoodlands with their bows and arrows. If they had a tent, they could be gone for days.”

---