Page 23 of Secrets Along the Shore (Beach Read Thrillers #1)

I liked her screened porch. It had taken me by a little surprise when I realized they lived less than a mile from Stillwater Lake.

But their house was surrounded by woods, with a lovely little lawn, and a bird feeder hanging from the branch of an oak tree.

The porch had wicker furniture with cushions on it, so they were comfortable enough, and of course, a few afghans from Elsie’s mother’s collection appeared to have made it to the porch also.

“Do you need a place to stay?” Elsie settled opposite me after handing me the lemonade. “I can get the guest room ready if you do.” Her eyes were large, her voice louder than necessary because of her hearing.

“No, thank you. I’m staying—with a friend.” That reminded me I should call Livia and let her know my ambition to return to my apartment had been thwarted.

Before I’d left the station, Reuben had returned my phone. They hadn’t been able to trace the message. Either due to the limitations of technology or the limitations of a rural Wisconsin police station, I wasn’t sure.

“I was wondering . . .” I needed to tread carefully.

I didn’t want to offend Elsie, or start trouble at work.

For a moment, I almost decided not to ask.

To choose a different subject. This had been a bad idea and I should have listened to Reuben instead of giving him a snarky parting comment about how he didn’t control what I could and couldn’t do.

And now, here was Elsie. Apprising me with her huge, innocent eyes and frizzy permed hair and wrinkled skin. I couldn’t. I couldn’t use Elsie to get answers about Archer’s employees.

“Noa?” Elsie prodded.

Nope. I wasn’t going to ask. I could excuse the reason I was here as a gesture of friendship.

I would just act as though I wanted to get to know Elsie on a personal level.

That wasn’t at all like me, but Elsie was the type to be so excited that I knew she’d ignore how out of character it was for me.

I would do that. I couldn’t stir the pot and my ideas were far-fetched and?—

I stilled. At the edge of the woods beyond the screened in porch, I could make out the silhouettes of three women.

They had followed me here. At least, that’s what my mind told me.

Lilian. Rosalie. Sophia. They were counting on me to help them and no matter how ridiculous it was, stepping back at this point was out of the question.

Besides, wasn’t I involved now? I’d received my own personal threat. Threat, or weirdly possessive text that had ominous tones of some sort of ownership over me.

Don’t cry. I’m here.

It was infused with the insinuation that they believed I was upset. That, somehow, they were offering me comfort. Comfort from what, if not them? Did they see me as a victim?

A pit formed in my stomach.

Did they know my history? Know that a decade before I had been just like the women they’d abducted? Did they think they were protecting Lilian, Rosalie, and Sophia?

As questions swirled in my mind, I redirected my attention to Elsie.

“I was wondering if you’d help me with some questions about work,” I ventured .

“Of course!” Elsie propped her arm on a pillow. “I’m all ears!”

And she was. I could see her hearing aids from where I sat.

“It’s a weird question . . . but, you’ve been at Archer’s for how many years now?”

“Honey, I have worked for the Archer’s since 1992.”

“So a long time,” I concluded, not wanting to do the math. “Do you know—” how did I even phrase it? I decided not to worry about tact and just plunged in. “Do you know if anyone we work with was raised in a single parent home?”

Elsie blinked. That she hadn’t expected that question was apparent, but she answered anyway.

“Well, I pretty much know everyone’s history there.

At least half the company was raised by single parents.

It’s the way of things now, isn’t it?” She tsked tsked and I wasn’t sure what she meant by it and I didn’t ask.

“Was anyone raised by their grandmother?” I dared.

Elsie pursed her lips as she pondered the question. I waited. I pretended to be nonchalant.

“Yes. Yes, I think Alan was.”

“Alan?” I stiffened.

Elsie continued to nod. “Yes. He was raised by his grandmother—she and I used to work together at the civic center back in the day helping with the after-school program. Alan’s momma was a mail lady at the post office.”

I was scared to even ask. “Did he—did Alan have a sister?”

Elsie’s smile faded. “Yes. He did. She died when he was oh, around fourteen or fifteen maybe? Her name was Ashley, and she did everything for that boy. Two peas in a pod, they were, even though she was about five years older than he was.”

I was almost numb. The pieces weren’t supposed to have fit—at least—in the end I hadn’t wanted them to. I didn’t want to discover ties to anyone at my own work place. Let alone Alan.

Alan.

He had been chatting with Dereck. He had a tie to Sophia through her boyfriend. And if we’d had service calls to Lilian and Rosalie’s homes, it stood to reason that Alan had driven supplies there. He was connected. To all three women. If I could prove it .

I just needed to see the records at work tomorrow and identify what employees had been at those job sites.

“Noa?” Elise tipped her head.

“H-how did Ashley die?”

“Oh, it was a car accident. Very tragic.”

I nodded. Struggling for words was an understatement. I was drowning. I was suffocating.

Sophia, why are you making me do this?

I searched the edge of the woods but didn’t see her.

I didn’t see the others either. Had I just concocted this sordid story out my own feelings?

But then—Alan could have easily seen my computer screen this afternoon.

He had come in just after the crew and helped the guys make sense of their work calendar.

If he’d snooped at my monitor, he would piece it together instantly if he was behind it all.

He would be able to acquire my phone number through the personnel directory.

“Noa, are you all right?” Elsie edged forward.

“I’m fine,” I snapped.

She pressed her lips together, hurt flashing in her eyes.

“I’m sorry, Elsie. I just—” I stood up suddenly, the lemonade ignored on the small table between us. “I need to go.”

“But you just got here,” Elsie protested. “You haven’t even drunk your lemonade!”

I didn’t respond.

I couldn’t.

My throat was closing. I could hear him. I could hear Alan’s fun-loving laughter and then in my mind, it morphed. A low timbre. An arrogant, superior chuckle that came from behind my right ear.

In the darkness. His breath was hot on my neck. The tip of a knife’s blade trailed its way from my jaw to my shoulder. I heard his laughter, and even that was controlled. Everything he did was controlled.

I sprinted for my car.

Alan.

Him.

They weren’t the same. They were so different. And yet, in the end, they were both hunters, and I was their prey.