Nine

We complete our interior search and double-check that all windows and doors are locked. Then I set the alarm, and we go outside, armed with flashlights and makeshift weapons—a kitchen knife, a hammer, a baseball bat. I don't like the fact that the gun is missing. Okay, that's an understatement. I'm trying very hard not to jump to some scary conclusions about that. The simplest answer is that I got distracted on my last visit and left it out back after target practice and a guest tucked it into their luggage like a nice hotel towel.

We split up again. Garrett goes off on his own, and no one argues with that. Kit takes Madison, and I'm with Jayla. Before we go out, she insists I pause to clean my foot and put on shoes. I grumble, but I do it. The glass only left a small puncture, easily handled by a quick wash and a bandage. Then we head out.

The island is big enough for someone to hide on but small enough to conduct a decent search. Our section is the gazebo portion—the rocky cliff and patches of meadow that surround it. I asked Kit and Madison to take the beach, because it's the least likely spot for anyone to hide. Garrett chose the woods, clearly thinking that's the most likely place. I picked the gazebo region because I'm now certain I didn't mistake that tree trunk for a figure.

Someone was on that cliff. They saw us coming. Whoever is staging this occult bullshit knew the Abbases had fled, and they came out to add the next props. Then we arrived, and they didn't expect that.

They thought I'd get the frantic call from the Abbases and fret and worry and eventually send someone from town to check it out. Instead, I showed up with five others in tow and settled in to stay the night.

The sensible thing would be for the intruder to retreat. But whoever is doing this is bold and determined, and instead they used our arrival to crank the spook show up to eleven. Skip the slow progression. Just scare the ever-loving shit out of us. If they're hidden far enough back on the island, they might even think we all fled when Sadie took off in the boat.

Except we didn't flee. We figured out what they're up to, and now they're trapped on this island with us. At the very least, our search will scare them into taking off, and we'll hear their boat start up. We might not reach it in time to confront them, but we'll get them the hell off my island.

That's what's driving me right now. The overwhelming compulsion to get them off my island.

Myisland. Every rock, every tree, every wildflower and weed is mine. Yes, this is nature, and no one owns it, but I am the guardian of this particular speck of earth, and I'm not letting anyone push me off it.

Would it be different if they'd offered me a good price upfront? If they hadn't looked at me and seen some middle-class sucker who didn't know what she had? Worse, looked at me with my divorce and my new teenage ward and my dead sister's debt, and decided my desperation could bolster their investment portfolio.

Had they made me an offer I couldn't refuse, I wouldn't have refused it. I couldn't—in those zeros, I'd see Madison's dream college, and no matter how much I love this island, I would have put her first. So, in a way, I'm glad they lowballed me and pulled this bullshit to scare me off, because I don't care what they offer now. I'm not budging. I'd rather take on the debt to put Madison through school.

I don't expect to find the intruder at the gazebo cliff, but I do hope to find proof they were there. And I hope our about-face scares the shit out of them. They're the hunted ones now. They're the ones trapped on a remote island with us.

The first part of our walk is silent, Jayla beside me, her flashlight beam straight ahead as mine scans the darkness.

Then, when we're crossing the tiny bridge over the stream, she says, "Do you think it could be Sadie?"

"Hmm?" I say, still deep in my thoughts.

"The person behind this. I'm wondering if it's Sadie."

I frown over. "Sadie trying to buy Hemlock Island?"

Jayla rolls her dark eyes. "She doesn't have the cash for that. I mean, could she be the one doing the staging? Yes, I agree that, as motives go, money is the obvious one, but there are others. Like payback."

I flinch, and it takes a moment before I say, carefully, "For stealing Kit from her."

"What?" She looks over, face scrunching up. "Kit and Sadie hooked up once years ago. And yes, I know about that. The idiot confessed to me, because he knows how I feel about her."

"And wanted absolution?" I consider. "No, that's not Kit. He wanted you to know before you heard it on the grapevine. Like he said, he's always been more willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. Because we didn't tell him everything she'd done."

"Yep, we were decent about it, and look where it got us. What's this about stealing him?"

I shrug. "She phoned me after the wedding. It was…" The memory flashes. "Kind of awful."

"She got nasty."

"The opposite, actually. She was drunk, and yes, she was angry but she was crying, too. She said she'd had a crush on Kit for years, and they finally got together, but the timing was wrong. When she backed off, I swooped in. Payback for…" I shrug. "You know."

Jayla stops, boots squeaking on rock as she turns to face me. "She seriously thought you married Kit to…" She sputters and waves a hand. "I can't even find words, and you know I always have plenty to spare. You got together with Kit two years after their fling, yet you apparently married him to spite her?"

"She was drunk."

"Obviously." She resumes walking as we climb the hill. "If anything, though, that's one more point in favor of my argument. I had no idea she had a crush on Kit—"

"Neither did I," I cut in. "Just to be clear."

"Oh, that was already clear. I did suspect she'd set her sights on him, but in a far more calculating way. Hearing she drunk-called in tears…" She shakes her head. "I won't feel sorry for her. You can do that. I won't. But she feels as if you stole Kit from her, and she already had issues with you, so could this be payback?"

"She staged the occult stuff to scare me?"

"Hey, we all know you're a horror fan. Someone else might have seen a hex circle and mistaken it for a kid's drawing. You'd know what it is. Also, if she thinks you stole Kit, then maybe, in a twisted way, this is appropriate revenge. You took him from her, so she'll take his marriage gift from you."

I shrug as we reach the top of the cliff. Then I turn to look out, the breeze tickling my face and setting my hair aswirl.

"You never want to think the worst of her," Jayla says. "Even when she damn well deserves it. She showed up here to get between you and Kit. You know that, right? He ran to your rescue, and she came to block him. That's a dick move. Bringing Garrett?" She whistles, the sound echoing around us. "She's lucky we didn't drive them off the island with pitchforks."

"I don't think blocking Kit was her motivation."

Jayla sighs. "Of course you don't."

"No, I really don't."

I tell her what Sadie said in the laundry room.

"She—she what?" Jayla sputters. "She actually asked you…?"

"More like demanded."

"She threatened you? About that?"

I shove my hands into my pockets. "It wasn't a threat. At least, not yet. The thing is, I see where she's coming from. In regards to her own situation, I mean."

"It's not about her."

"Right. That's the problem. It has nothing to do with her, and yet she's suffered more than anyone because of it."

"More than you?" Jayla says. "Please don't tell me you think that."

"She lost something, and she wants it back, and with Anna gone…" I shove my hands in deeper. "It's complicated."

"It is. Which means she should have called you to discuss it. Not waylaid you here."

I take three steps and bend. "Is this a footprint?"

Jayla doesn't move from her spot. "Yes, because we were up here earlier."

I touch the patch of soft ground where there's a clear shoe impression. "We weren't over here, and this is fresh."

"Maybe it's the Abbases?" She crosses her arms and then uncrosses them. "Fine, I'm being contrary. You can say that, you know."

"Nah, it's always better to let you figure it out for yourself."

She mutters under her breath, stalks over, and bends to shine her light on the footprint. She's close enough that I can smell her hair oil, and it's the same one she's always used, the scent stirring memories of all the times we'd fallen asleep, in the back of a car, watching a movie, our heads together, that smell lulling me into slumber. Jayla is here, it said. Everything's safe, everything's fine.

I blink back tears and clear my throat before I look over at her. "How're you doing, Jay? I haven't asked that."

She waves around us. "Because you're kinda busy with all this." Her gaze shifts to the side. "Which is a fine excuse, because I didn't ask about you either."

"It's good to see you."

"Don't pull that shit."

Her scowl makes me laugh, and she shakes her head.

"Fine. You have thirty seconds to be all friendly and whatever." Her voice softens. "I'm doing okay. I think I might… No, I know I've found someone. We're talking about moving in, which is scary as hell, because I don't do that shit, and she's got a kid, and I suck with kids."

"Madison wouldn't say so."

"Because she inherited your shitty taste in friends." She settles on her haunches. "Mads seems to be doing well."

"She's doing okay."

"And you?"

Not doing okay. Not by a long shot.

I make some noncommittal noise under my breath and gesture at the footprint. "Looks like a guy's by the length and width. The tread suggests a boot."

"Nice dodge of my question, which answers my question."

"I'll be fine," I say. "Yesterday, I thought I saw someone up here when we were coming out. I pretended I saw a moose because I figured it was that stump." I point.

She eyes me for a moment, as if debating whether to pursue the earlier question. Then she mutters under her breath again and starts shining the light across the ground.

"More footprints over there," she says. "Looks like several people—Ugh, because that's where we were earlier."

I laugh softly. "Yep."

When my light catches moisture glinting off a broad leaf at ground level, I shine the beam on it and my breath seizes.

"Is that blood?"