Page 214 of Secrets Along the Shore
The forest gave nothing away.
I retreated inside and grabbed my phone from the hoodie’s front pocket. My hands shook as I scrolled to Sheriff McNealy’s number. I texted quickly.
Scarlett: Someone slashed all four of my tires last night.
A long pause before his response came.
McNealy: I’m not surprised. I warned you.
I shook my head in frustration.
Scarlett: Not helping. Someone wants me trapped out here.
McNealy: Or a warning to leave while it’s only your tires. I’ll be right over, but Scarlett, it might be time to think about packing it up. Put the house on the market and walk away.
I glance toward Becca’s property, just visible through the fog.
Scarlett: Becca won’t ever come out if she knows whoever did this is still out there. You think I should just run away and leave her here? Alone? Terrified? An agoraphobic that not even her parents will help?
McNealy: I think you should stay alive.
Scarlett: No one has a reason to hurt me.
I’m not sure I believe that statement.
McNealy: For now.
I dropped my phone onto the counter and pressed my palms into the wood, my breath shallow. The memory of Livvie’s limp body slipping into the lake flashed through my mind again. If that wasn’t an accident…if someone killed her…
Then I saw it.
And if I saw it, then someone may think I’ll remember them, too.
Maybe that’s why they’re trying to scare me off.
I exhaled slowly and grabbed my bag, slipping on boots before locking up. I can walk into town. It wasn’t far, just under two miles. The cold air cleared my head as I trekked along the paved road. If the sheriff passed me by, I’d see him. But something told me I wasn’t a priority to him. Which didn’t help the situation.
The truth was, I was afraid.
Because if I remembered Livvie, I might remember everything. And would remembering everything make me a target too?
I reached the bakery with a few minutes to spare. Evan was already there, seated at a corner table with two steaming cups of coffee. His eyes lit up with a smile as I entered, but it faded as he saw my face.
“What happened?” he asked, standing.
“Someone slashed my tires last night.”
“Was it a joke?” He motioned for me to sit. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, then nod, not sure which answer I’m replying to, and if either of my answers were the truth. I lower myself into the seat and take a sip of the coffee the server placed before me. It’s hot and rich, grounding me.
“The sheriff thinks I should leave,” I said quietly.
“Do you think he’s right?”
I shake my head. “Not yet. Not until I know what happened to Livvie.”
Evan leaned forward. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. I’ve been thinking a lot since our last conversation. I want to help you.”
