Page 223 of Secrets Along the Shore
Livvie had tried to warn me. That something on that shore wasn’t safe.
Was it safe now?
The stars above twinkled faintly, barely enough to see. But I saw the shape of the Bishop house against the tree line, dark and looming.
If I rowed there now, I might finally understand what Livvie was trying to say. What she was trying to stop me from discovering back then.
Or I might die trying.
The other boat was drifting closer now, as if whoever was in it was waiting for me to make up my mind.
I closed my eyes. Livvie died trying to protect me. Maybe now it was time to find out why.
I turned my boat. I rowed toward the Bishop house, first slowly then picking up the pace.
The breeze sharpened. My muscles ached with every pull, but I didn’t stop. I kept the silhouette of the other boat dead ahead and rowed to it, peering into the glare to try to make out the person holding the light.
I approached with trembling hands as the two boats bumped against the other.
It was Becca.
The woman stared across the water as if I wasn’t in the boat beside her.
“Is it him?” she asked.
I looked over my shoulder at the man still there, waiting for my return, telling me he would be going nowhere.
“I don’t know who it is. I didn’t get a good look. But there’s a dead man in my basement. I can’t go back.”
Becca stared at me as though she didn’t comprehend my words.
“Becca? Did you hear me? I need to call the sheriff.”
Becca gave one nod and said, “Come over.”
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
I gripped the oars tighter,my fingers sore and numb from the cold water dripping off the handles as I followed Becca to the shore. I glanced back to see the shadowed man with his hand up. If he was saying anything, I couldn’t hear it.
He hadn’t made a move to enter the lake. His presence was a shadow etched into the blackness of the trees, a blot on the landscape. His identity was as faceless as the dead body in the basement. Had he destroyed the electrical panel? Leaving me without sight, cut off from the world completely.
I turned back to see Becca waited on the shore, beckoning me forward to safety. Each stroke cut through the water like a blade, rhythmic and harsh. The further I got from the man on the shore, the more my breath slowed, even if my heart couldn’t.
Becca leaned close, reaching to pull my boat alongside hers. She offered no words, only gestured for me to follow. Her face was pale, almost waxen, and I saw a tremble in her lips before she pressed them into a line.
We reached the deck, and Becca ascended the stairs ahead of me. She didn’t wait for me. I hurried to catch up as she climbed each step, moving fast and silent. I didn’t call out. Couldn’t. And something in me didn’t want to.
Becca held the door open for me, her face unreadable.
Inside, the house was dry, warm, still. And yet something felt off. Like the calm before a storm, like the inhale before a scream.
I stepped inside.
“Sit,” Becca signed, motioning to the couch. I obeyed, watching as she moved around the room, her hands twitching at her sides like she was unsure what to do with them.
She turned an end lamp on, casting a yellowed glow to the room, and sat across from me.
