Page 56 of The House Beyond the Dunes

“Nothing that dramatic has happened to me.” My words sound a little breathless.

My comment prompts a smile from the good detective. Friendly, easy, even relaxed. But I’ve seen him annoyed and frustrated, and that guy can’t be too far away.

As I close the door, I glance across the street and spot Reece passing in front of a window. He doesn’t look my way, which seems odd given there’s a strange car in my driveway.

“What can I do for you, Detective?” I ask.

His gaze shifts to the stairs and lingers as he adjusts from what he must have seen two days ago to now. “Whoever mopped up the place did a hell of a cleanup job.”

I slide my hands into my pockets, glance toward the stairs to assure myself there’s no blood. “That was Devon. She’s the property manager. And yes, she did an amazing job. It’s as if the accident never happened.”

Reading my glance, he says, “Except Kyle Iverson’s body is cooling in Greenville at the medical examiner’s office at East Carolina University.”

The reminder sounds polite, but it’s not. “I haven’t forgotten about Kyle.” A part of me wishes I could slip into Detective Becker’s mind and see what he sees in me. Another part is grateful I can’t. “What’s bothering you, Detective? What is it you need to hear from me?”

He doesn’t respond at first, and then he says, “Must be strange being back. You and Kyle were both here alive and well forty-eight hours ago.”

“It’s odd.” Lies hide best when they’re surrounded by the truth.

Detective Becker glances toward the blanket on the couch and the dishes in the sink. “But you look like you’ve made yourself at home.”

“I was trapped by the weather. And this house isn’t a crime scene.”

“According to who?”

“Devon.”

“I see.” His footsteps click against the marble floor as he moves toward the stairs. He kneels and runs his fingertips over the floor where Kyle had lain. “Kyle Iverson could have fallen down those stairs a dozen times and survived. But his luck ran out on Friday.”

Luck. Some would say I’ve been unlucky since the day I was born. Maybe the universe saved up all my luck and delivered it at the bottom of those stairs.

“Meaning a crime didn’t occur here?” I ask.

He lets the question linger. “If it makes you feel better, we’ll call it an incident.” He rises, flexes his fingers. “The medics trashed this area as they tried to save you and him. There were a few scuff marks on the stairs midway as if Iverson’s shoe caught, but it appears neither one of you tried to catch yourself. Your fingernails aren’t torn, and neither were his. Whatever happened was sudden and unexpected.”

“You saw Kyle before they took him away?”

“I did. What do you remember?”

Absently, I rub an old scar on my palm. “His neck was twisted, and there was a lot of blood.”

His eyes are as relentless as the churning Atlantic Ocean. “I asked the medical examiner to hold Iverson’s body for a couple of days until I’m finished with my investigation.”

“I didn’t realize declaring this an accident was going to be so hard. Is it really that complicated?” Even I hear the bitterness.

He turns toward me. “Sarcasm, Lane? I never thought you were capable. Everyone tells me how nice and sweet you are.”

“Everyone?”

“I’ve asked around. Your neighbor, Shelly, is protective of you.”

I can’t imagine Shelly talking to this guy. What did he say to even get her to open her door? “You make it sound like a bad thing.”

“Not at all. She seems very loyal to you. Drove like a bat out of hell to get away from me in the hospital parking lot. I’d bet she’d say anything to cover for you.”

“There’s nothing to hide. And Shelly is very literal. She can’t lie.”

He hesitates. “I’m not so sure about that.”

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