Page 52 of Smokescreen

What if someone was up here with her?

The thought caused her skin to crawl.

She continued watching, halfway expecting to see someone pop out.

But there was no one. The moan must have come from the storm blowing against the wooden boards of the house.

Old childhood fears: reignited.

She needed to douse them quickly.

Finally, she reached the far side of the house and spotted a door.

It made sense there was a bigger entry to this space. Somehow, all this furniture had been put up here, and it hadn’t come through the small holes in the second-story ceiling.

Maybe this was it.

Hope surged through her.

She tugged on the door and groaned. It didn’t budge either.

“What the what?” she muttered.

Had someone planned it this way? Had they wanted to lock her inside? Why did this attic have locks on all these doors anyway?

Olive didn’t know. But as a scream cut through the air, she realized she had to get out of here and find out what was going on.

Olive tried the doors again.

They still didn’t budge.

She pounded on the floor.

Could anyone hear her above the noise of the rain and the thunder?

She wasn’t sure.

But she was antsy to get out of here—especially when she remembered that scream.

What was going on downstairs?

She rushed to the window and stared outside again.

Rain still poured from the sky, dripping down the glass in fat drops that came and went faster than planes taking off and landing at LaGuardia. Thunder shook the air, and lightning lit the sky.

Olive squinted as something outside caught her eye.

What was that?

She continued to watch in the distance.

Lights moved in the woods.

Bobbing lights, almost like two or three people were walking around in the middle of this storm.

But who would want to be out in this weather?

Olive supposed it could be some of the ranch hands doing a task for Reid. But what?

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