Page 40 of Traitor
Chapter Fifteen
Peyton
The weekend bringswith it new tourists, families with children eager to make messes, wives with bottles of wine and cheery friends, and church socials with lots of laughter. The bustle keeps me so busy, I barely have time to think about the woman on the boat, let alone get back to the lake for another look. Whenever I think I have a moment to spare, Alice calls me back with another task.
Maybe after tonight’s Art and W(h)ine event, I’ll be able to sneak off to Bear Lake and give it a quick walk-around. No one has seen anything in the days since I left the lodge, but it’s still cold out. There aren’t that many people eager to brave the chill in the air for the views.
“Tourists prefer to see the views from the comfort of their toasty rooms,” Alice says, walking over to the table to help clean up after a party of five.
“I’m sorry?”
“You were talking to yourself. About the weather, I think.”
I blush as I wipe down the tables. “I’m sorry.”
Alice grins and wipes her hands on an already paint-streaked apron. “Don’t worry about it. We’re all a little crazy.”
Pausing, I wipe my hand across my forehead. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to complain. I guess you’ve probably heard what happened.”
“There were rumors. I’ve heard you witnessed a murder!” She said it in that small-town way where people don’t want to be interested in something horrendous, but clearly are.
“Sometimes it feels like a nightmare instead of reality.”
“They also said your parents were killed and you were there. That must make it awful hard for you to go through something like this again.”
She isn’t wrong. “I understand if you don’t need more drama here. I promise I’ll do my job and won’t bring any trouble.”
“You don’t have to apologize to anyone, least of all me. I’ve never seen anything like that and I wouldn’t begin to know how you’re feeling. The best medicine is to keep yourself busy.”
“Well, you’ve certainly been helping with that,” I tell her, smiling to take the edge off the remark.
“You’ve been a wonderful help. We’ve only got the last party today and then I’ll let you go for the afternoon. You deserve a break after all the hard work you’ve been doing.”
I stow away the paints on the cart. “You don’t have to do that. I’m grateful for the work.”
Alice makes a sound in her throat. “Don’t go contradicting me now. Get this cleaned up and the party room prepped, then you can clock out. I know you’ve got some work to do at your house anyway.”
She isn’t wrong. In exchange for a break on the rent, Alice is allowing me to fix up the place piece by piece. A coat of paint here, some cleaning there. I don’t mind the extra work because she was right, it did keep me busy. You can’t worry if you don’t have time to stop long enough to do it.
“Thank you, Alice, you can’t know how much I appreciate it.”
“No need to thank me. Don’t forget to take out the trash.”
An hour later,I pull up the drive to the little house Alice has graciously rented out to me. I know I won’t be able to get out to the lake before dark. Not when my feet are screaming, and my eyes are so gritty I can barely see straight. For such a small town, Alice’s little shop is sure doing brisk business.
I heft my purse onto my shoulder with a can of mace in one hand and the keys to the house in the other. I leave the porch light on all day and night, just in case, and the halo of yellow light comforts me as I ascend the steps.
My heart tumbles to my feet, and my stomach jerks like it’s been hooked by a fisherman when the door to the house comes open as smooth as silk at a brush from my hand. Frozen in place, I try to remember my steps from that morning. I could have sworn I locked it. It’s not like me to leave without triple-checking the locks, and then once more for good measure. My ears strain at the crack in the door to listen.
I don’t know whether I should turn and run or dig in my purse for my phone. The fact that I should know better brings frustrated tears to my eyes. When my fingers can move, I go for my phone first as quietly as possible. I key in 9-1-1, just in case, then push open the door with my foot. The resulting squeal from the hinges sends spiders crawling up and down my spine. My thumb trembles over the send button.
The house is such that I can see straight through to the back door, with an open kitchen and living room area. The two small bedrooms and bath are off to my right, the doors open and the interiors beyond bright and sunny with afternoon light. I take a careful step forward and flip on the hallway and living room lights.
I don’t know if I should be relieved there are no sinister shadows or even more worried. Had I really forgotten to double-check the locks? Was I that distracted? I carry my phone and the can of mace through every room, my heart still thundering in my chest, even when I confirm the house is empty save for me.
After I lock and bolt the door, check all the windows, and do the same to the back door, I then go through all my things. It’s a precaution, probably a useless one, but I won’t be able to settle until I’ve looked at everything and then looked at it again.
When I finish the living room, kitchen, and bathroom, I cancel the call to the police, and go to my room. It’s the larger of the two, if you’re being generous and manages to fit a full-sized bed with a night stand and skinny dresser. Because of the frantic schedule at work, I haven’t had the chance to unpack yet, so I go to the closet where I’ve stowed my suitcase.