Page 51 of If You're Reading This
But whoever had been out here, was gone.
Maybe he hadn’t meant to make a sound.
Maybe this guy had just wanted to watch.
Maybe watching brought him some kind of pleasure.
The thought twisted Logan’s stomach.
With one more scan of his yard, he returned to his house.
He went inside and checked the locks on all the doors and windows.
He wasn’t sure what this guy would do next. What lengths he would go to in order to send his message.
But Logan couldn’t take any chances.
He went into his kitchen and grabbed some pain reliever from the cabinet. He needed to get rid of his headache.
Then he grabbed his computer and checked for that message from Geoffrey.
He’d sent it.
Logan quickly opened it and scanned the list of names.
None of them were familiar.
So if that was Knox, he’d used an alias. Logan shouldn’t be surprised. But he needed to talk to someone who’d been on that crew. Maybe they’d seen something.
He’d start tomorrow morning.
For now, he grabbed Morgan’s journal from his bag, sat on the couch, and began reading again. He wanted to review her entries, see if he’d missed anything the first time.
Maybe one of these guys who’d been talking to her was mentioned in her journal. Maybe this would help him get closer to some answers.
Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.
He still wasn’t sure.
CHAPTER
TWENTY-SIX
FEBRUARY 2, THIS YEAR
The wind howledoutside Morgan’s cabin, rattling the windows in their frames as if demanding entry. February in Alaska brought longer hours of daylight but no relief from winter’s grip.
Tonight’s forecast called for another eight inches of snow before morning.
Morgan added another log to the fire and watched as sparks danced up the flue. The cabin’s main room glowed amber in the firelight.
Her camera equipment lay scattered across the dining table where she’d been editing photos from yesterday.
She wrapped her cardigan tighter and padded to the kitchen in thick wool socks. The kettle whistled just as her phone buzzed with a weather alert.
Winter storm warning extended through tomorrow afternoon.
Morgan smiled despite herself. A snow day meant no need to drive into Fairbanks, no gallery meetings—just uninterrupted hours to work on her personal projects.
