Page 26 of Plot Twist in Pelican Point
"Kate, stay here."
"I'll come..."
"No. I've got a crew starting early this morning on the staircase. Can you see that they get started?"
"Am I suppose to believe that?" she asks.
"You don’t have to," I say quietly. "But I need you to trust me anyway."
She doesn't like it, but she nods. I follow Ryan around to the west side of the house, my boots crunching over the gravel path with each step.
"You do realize you’re completely screwed when it comes to Kate, right? The women around here? They’ve already crowned her. You think you’re building a house? They’re building her a kingdom—and they’ll burn yours to the ground if you so much as bruise their queen."
"Well, I think..."
"No, the time for thinking was before you slipped your dick into her. If you hurt her, two of the most dangerous people I know will be gunning for you."
"Who?"
"Candace and Emma. Trust me, brother, you'd be safer taking on a bunch of crazed fundamentalists with automatic weaponry."
The damp fog swirls low, licking at my ankles, the smell of wet stone and paint already hitting my nose before I round the corner. My shoulder brushes a low-hanging cedar branch, slick with dew, and I shove it aside just in time to catch sight of the graffiti.
The fog hasn’t burned off yet, which somehow makes it worse. Like the shadows are hiding things they don’t want us to see. The wall has been spray-painted. Thick black letters gouged into the wall like a wound:
STAY AWAY
Beneath it, a wolf with jagged fangs and red paint that drips like fresh blood.
"Jesus Christ," I mutter.
"Someone really doesn’t like the renovation," Ryan deadpans.
I crouch to examine the paint. Still tacky. It reeks of chemicals, harsh and acrid in the morning air.
"This was done recently."
He nods. "Before sunrise, probably. Cameras on this side weren’t up yet."
That’s on me. I prioritized the entry points, not the perimeter.
"You think it’s connected to the plans being stolen?"
"Or to Kate," I say quietly. "She’s the one who saw something."
Ryan gives me a long look. "You think she’s in danger?"
"I think she’s close enough to the fire to get burned."
I step back and pull out my phone. The metal’s cold against my palm.
Time to call in backup.
Marc answers on the first ring.
"Talk to me," he says.
"You're on speaker. Ryan's here with me. We have vandalism now. West wall. Paint's fresh. Threats."
