Four

By the time we reach the dock, it's clear that the boat is heading in the other direction. I start to relax. My first thought had been that the Abbases were returning to finish out their stay, which could turn ugly. But obviously the boat wasn't coming to the island…

No, wait. Two figures stand on the dock. A man and a woman… with luggage. Shit! The boat dropped them off. The Abbases—

"Sadie?" Jayla says. "What the hell are you doing here?"

I slow, and the seconds seem to drag into minutes as dread settles into my gut.

Jayla must be wrong. That can't possibly be Sadie Emerson. Then the woman moves out of the shadows, revealing a willowy strawberry blonde with upswept hair and a model's grace, tugging a bright pink carry-on after her.

Sadie Emerson.

Sadie and I had been friends in elementary school. Then I met Jayla, and the three of us formed our own little clique until…

My breathing quickens. I choke back the panic and slowly pivot to Kit. "What is going on?"

Kit blinks in surprise. "Why are you asking me?"

"Because she knows it's your fault, Kit dear." Sadie passes Kit, her fingers brushing along his arm.

"My—?" Kit says. "What?"

He looks genuinely baffled, and I want to seize on that. See? Ignore the scuttlebutt I read on our high school chat forum.

Did you hear Sadie Emerson is with Kit Hayes?

Again? Weren't they a thing in college?

After college, I think. Before he married Laney Kilpatrick.

Are we sure it ended after that? Wink-wink.

Yes, Kit and Sadie had a "thing" before we got together. According to Kit, it was one night. According to Sadie, it was a whole lotta hot and heavy nights. Either way, being before we married, it's none of my business. It's also none of my business if they're seeing each other now that we're divorced.

"Sadie." Jayla strides over. "What bullshit are you up to now?"

"Bullshit?" Sadie says. "I came to help Laney. Is that okay with you? Kit and I were supposed to have drinks tonight, and he texted to explain why he couldn't make it. Laney has a harassment problem, so I brought a professional to investigate."

She waves, and for the first time, I pull my gaze away enough to see who's with her. When I do, I go still.

"What the fuck?" Jayla says.

"Uh…" Garrett Emerson's brows rise. "Nice to see you, too, Jayla."

"As I'm sure you all know, my brother is a cop," Sadie says. "A detective now. He was promoted last month."

"No, Sadie," Kit says, his voice a near growl. "Tell me you did not bring—"

"Madison!" Sadie says, and we turn to see Madison looking at us all, her expression wary confusion. "Oh my God, you have grown."

Garrett's gaze travels over Madison, making my hackles rise.

"Been a while, kiddo," he says. "What's with the short hair and the baggy clothes? You decide you're a boy now?"

"Garrett," Sadie says.

"No," Madison says, with exaggerated patience. "This is how I choose to dress today. Tomorrow, I might wear a skirt. The next day, I might wear work boots and flannel. It depends on what I feel like when I wake up, which is none of your business, dude whose name I barely remember."

"Ignore him," Sadie says. "He was just surprised. Your hair looks amazing, by the way." She looks at her brother. "Doesn't it suit her face?"

"Her face? Or his?" Garrett snarks.

Sadie looks stricken. "I'm so sorry, Madison. Ignore him, please. May I ask your pronouns?"

Kit slides over to block Garrett's reaction, but Madison's not looking Garrett's way and misses his eye roll.

"Still she/her," Madison says. "But thank you for asking."

"It's been forever since I've seen you," Sadie says. "Let's take these bags to the house and talk. You're a high school junior, right?"

Madison glances uncertainly at me. An empathetic kid, she must feel the tension pulsing. I force a smile and wave for her to go along with Sadie.

When they're out of earshot, I turn to Garrett. "Speak to her like that again, and you will be dealing with me. Understand?"

His eyes narrow. "I came to help you out, Laney. Don't make me regret it."

"Is that a dare?" Jayla says. "Please tell me it's a dare, because I will happily make you regret it. There are so many things I'd like to make you regret. Give me an excuse, please."

When he opens his mouth, I cut him off by saying, "If you're really here to help, then let me explain what's going on."

This is a nightmare. Oh, I don't mean the ritual-staging shit. That I can deal with. It's the company that makes me want to run, screaming, with Madison in tow.

Having Kit here was bad enough. Yes, before Sadie arrived, we'd managed to settle into something that felt like old times, and somehow that made it worse. The three people I love most, chattering and laughing, happy to be in each other's company. It's like a glimmer of a dream that will evaporate in the light of day, leaving your soul aching.

Throw Sadie and Garrett into the mix, and it's turned into one of those horror stories where you wish for something and get it in the worst possible way.

I wish things were normal again. I wish I had Kit back as my husband and Jayla back as my best friend, and even Sadie back as a friend, everything as it used to be, once upon a time.

I might long for that, but having all of them on my island—with Garrett tagging along—is the most evil wish-fulfillment imaginable. I can't even insist we don't need Sadie and Garrett and send them on their way. They chartered a boat to get here, and it's long gone.

Naturally, being both a cop and an asshole, Garrett tries to take over the investigation. Naturally, being a tough-as-nails Garrett-hating defense attorney, Jayla isn't putting up with that shit. She means well, but it splashes kerosene on an already roaring fire.

We searched the house and island and found nothing. Now it's evening, the sun falling, and we're cooking sausages over a bonfire. Sure, there's a no-open-flame edict, but a fire here won't catch anywhere else, and it's a small blaze contained in a pit, which has no vegetation within ten feet.

We're ringed around the bonfire, cooking sausages that Sadie brought. I've added beer, coolers, and s'more fixings from my personal food stash.

"You need security cameras," Garrett says, his mouth full. "You blow a million bucks on a vacation house and don't spring for cameras?"

"We have them," I say. "We shut them down while guests are here because they're considered an invasion of renter privacy and a violation of the contract. There's an indoor security system linking all doors and windows. That's on whenever no one's home, and renters who aren't comfortable with the isolation use it at all times."

"You need the type of system that keeps a log so you can track unauthorized use."

"It has that. I can show you the logs. Each guest receives a unique door code."

Garrett stops, beer bottle to his lips. "How does that work when you don't have remote access?"

"I send renters their code, which Nate sets while he's cleaning."

"Meaning this kid has owner-level access."

"The kid is twenty-one."

"Still a kid. And what's he doing in a shit job like this? Cleaning houses isn't exactly normal for a twenty-one-year-old guy."

"Nate takes what he can get."

"You mean he's desperate."

"Eager for work," I say evenly. "He went off to college before the pandemic. When it hit, he came back to live with his dad, who has liver disease. He's still here looking after him."

"So dad's an alcoholic. How about the kid?"

"His father has liver disease," I repeat. Yes, he's also an alcoholic, but I'm not giving Garrett that. "Nate dumps all booze that renters leave behind."

"Are you sure?" Garrett raises his hands. "All I'm saying is that this kid obviously needs money, and he's going to feel stuck in a shit town doing shit jobs."

"How would scaring Laney fix that?" Madison asks.

I tense, ready for Garrett's reply, but when he turns to her, his tone softens, belligerence fading. "Good question, kiddo. Maybe it's a diversion. Has anything gone missing? He could be stealing while staging the Satanic stuff to distract you from the thefts."

"I haven't seen anything missing. But, yes, while I completely trust Nate, I understand that having access to the island and the security system makes him a suspect."

"Also," Garrett says, "when we were searching, Kit mentioned that his family used to own this island. How did he feel about that?"

I try not to squirm. Nate was fine with it—or he'd let on that he was fine with it, for my sake. I'm the one who'd been uncomfortable with that. His family once owned the island where he was now employed as caretaker.

"It didn't bother him," Madison says firmly. "We talked about it. I know it made Laney uncomfortable, so Nate and I talked. He said the money his great-grandparents made selling the island meant his grandma could get treatments for her leukemia. Without that, he wouldn't be here. He's fine with it."

"Or so he says," Garrett murmurs.

Madison bristles. "He is fine with it. Laney lets him stay out here anytime it's empty."

"So he uses the house? Has full access to it?"

"He already did as the caretaker," I say. "We just discussed that. When he stayed, he usually camped. The point is that I understand Nate's a potential suspect, even if I disagree."

"I'll need to talk to him when we go back tomorrow."

I wait for someone to state the obvious.

We're not staying the night, right?

But no one says that. Garrett and Jayla and Madison keep throwing around theories while Kit tries to steer the conversation to solutions for making sure this doesn't keep happening. Sadie only listens. And I sit there, casting anxious glances into the forest, remembering what I saw, what I heard.

Nothing. I saw and heard nothing that couldn't be explained.

It doesn't matter. My gut says we should pile into the boat, and get the hell off this island. It isn't that I'm afraid to be here. I'm afraid to let Kit and Jayla stay here if there's a chance something is wrong, and I'm utterly terrified of having Madison here.

Maybe Sadie and Garrett can stay, take one for the team.

I might joke about that, but in spite of everything, I still care about Sadie. I don't give a shit about Garrett, but I wouldn't do that to his wife and kids.

I glance toward the forest, the hairs on my neck rising as the falling sun twists the semi-dark into a web of shadows. Anything could be out there. Anyone.

"Laney?" Madison whispers.

I lower my voice so only she can hear me. "We didn't bring overnight bags."

"We have clothing here."

"I just think…" I glance at the forest again.

"It's too dark to take the boat," she says. "We can go back in the morning and talk to Nate. It's too late to do that, and he should be in on this conversation, right?"

Kit slides along the log and leans in to whisper, "Everything okay?"

"Laney is fine, Kit," Sadie calls from across the fire.

"Laney is not fine," he calls back. "Laney has some sick bastard putting ritual magic trappings all over her island."

I straighten. "I was just telling Madison that I'll need her help making up the beds."

"I can help with that," Sadie says. "No rush, though. It's a gorgeous night."

"The wind's picking up," Garrett says.

"Not over here," she says. "Now, if someone can pass me a marshmallow, I will demonstrate the proper way to char it to coal."

I have to smile at that, and I relax, too. When I half close my eyes, I'm transported back in time to dozens of bonfires like this. We're twelve again, and I see Jayla shifting seats constantly to avoid the smoke—it's following me, don't you see that? I see Kit and his friends, wrestling on the lawn and swooping in to steal marshmallows, sometimes right off the end of our sticks. Mostly, though, I see Sadie and me, huddled together, giggling and chattering, her face lit in flame and shadow as she whispers secrets she only trusts me to hear.

I look at her now, taking the marshmallow bag from Madison, her face once again lit in flame and shadow, and I can't help smiling, in spite of everything she's done.

"Toss one my way," I say. "I challenge you to a charring contest. Winner is the first one to roast a guaranteed carcinogen."