Page 47 of Darkwater Lane

She answers immediately. “Damn, but you know how to find trouble,” she says in lieu of a greeting.

I can’t help the small laugh that escapes. “It’s trouble that tends to find us,” I clarify.

“Either way, you seem to be in some pretty deep trouble now.”

I run my fingers across my forehead, trying to ease the tension headache that’s already started to build. “It’s bad, Kez.” I fill her in on the details, including the text.

She blows out a breath, all levity gone from her voice. “What do you need from me?” The immediate offer makes my heart ache. Kezia comes across as tough as nails to anyone who meets her, but she’s the kindest, most loyal person I’ve ever met. I’m not sure how I got so lucky to call her my best friend.

“Just keep my kids safe.”

“Done. Boot has already taken up residence at the foot of Connor’s bed.”

I smile, thinking of how excited the large Rottweiler must have been when Connor and Lanny pulled up. He’s always had a soft spot in his doggy heart for my kids and protects them like they’re part of his pack.

“How does Lanny seem? Did she talk about what she saw?” When I met her at the gas station, she was still operating on pure adrenaline. I worry about what comes next once the shock wears off and she has time and space to absorb what she saw.

“She just gave me the basic details. Otherwise, she seems to be taking it in stride.”

“That’s the problem. No seventeen-year-old should be able to take seeing a dead body in stride. Especially a scene as gruesome as that one was.”

“From what she described, it sounds like the scene from your house out here,” Kez notes. “Think there’s a connection?”

“There has to be, right?”

Kez sighs. “You should know, the Knoxville PD already put in a request for our files on Leonard Varrus and Sam. I saw the email this morning.”

I knew it was coming. Still, I didn’t expect them to move that fast. “Already?”

“They’re buttoning up their case against him. They’ve already pulled the GPS on his phone. His cell pinged off the closest tower to your house when Varrus was murdered.”

I curse under my breath. “I’m worried, Kez.”

She hesitates for a moment. Then says, “You should be.”

When I slip back inside the motel room, Sam is already awake and dressed. He’s pacing the small space between the bed and the desk, scowling at his phone.

My stomach sinks, already bracing for more bad news. “What is it?”

“An email from our landlord,” Sam says, his voice tight with anger. “He’s canceling our lease effective today.” He turns his phone to show me the email.

I stare at him in shock. “What? Why? Can he even do that?” Not that I’m necessarily sure I want to go back to that house and live there again after what happened. I’m not sure I’d ever feel truly safe. But still, that should be our decision to make. Not his.

“Apparently, he can,” Sam spits. “The police reached out to him late last night since he’s the owner of the house. He’s pretty furious. Said once the police clear out, we have seventy-two hours to get our stuff, or he’ll put it all out at the street.”

“We had nothing to do with Varrus’s murder!”

“It’s not just that. He didn’t know who you were before. He heard about the podcast and made the connection. He said he doesn’t want a serial killer living in his house.”

My hands curl into fists. “I’m not a serial killer,” I growl. “That fucking podcast.”

I press my fingertips against my temples. The headache that threatened earlier makes good on its promise. Tight bands of pressure squeeze my skull, sending daggers of pain shooting through my brain. The weight of what this means becomes crushing.

We’ll have to find a new place to stay immediately. Then we’ll have to handle all the crap that comes with moving: hiring a truck, packing, setting up internet, power, water, gas. And all of that while dealing with the fact that a man was found murdered in our house less than twelve hours ago.

I let out a long breath. “Where are we going to go?” Except that I already know the answer. So does Sam.

Stillhouse Lake.