Sleepwalker (Nightwatcher #2)(102)

Mack pulls out the set for Lynn’s house and examines the circular cardboard label. “It only says ‘Beach House,’ ” he says with relief. “Even if someone had a copy, they couldn’t possibly know where it is.”

“We have pictures of the house all over the place,” she points out, indicating a framed snapshot on a nearby table—the girls and their cousins, with a weathered, gray-shingled corner of the house in the background.

“Come on, Allie, it looks like any other beach house in the world,” Mack tells her. “Without the address—or even the town—no one could possibly guess where it is.”

Obviously skittish, but trying to warm to the idea, she asks, “How would you get to work from there?”

“I could commute if I had to—”

“From Salt Breeze Pointe?”

“If I had to,” he repeats. “But I’m not going anywhere until we figure out what’s going on.”

“Did you ask Lynn if we could stay there?”

He shakes his head.

His sister called last week when she saw on the news that there had been a murder in Glenhaven Park, horrified when she learned that the victim lived right next door. But she doesn’t know about the latest developments—yet—and Mack isn’t interested in telling her.

“The fewer people who know where we are, the better,” he tells Allison. “It’s not that I don’t trust Lynn, or even Daryl—but his kids and Lynn’s ex are all involved in their lives too, and you just never know.”

“You’re right. We can’t tell anyone.”

“No one will think to look for us down there.”

“But can we really just leave town in the middle of all this?”

What Allison means, Mack knows, is can he just leave town. He’s the one who’s under suspicion.

But he’s not under arrest yet.

The police will be watching him, of course, and he’s tried to find comfort in the thought of their constant presence. But really, it only means that they’re keeping an eye on him; it’s not protective surveillance. It doesn’t mean they’ll make sure his family is safe. That’s up to Mack himself.

It won’t be easy to slip away, but not impossible, either. He already has a plan in place, one that can be put into motion first thing tomorrow morning, and now he outlines it for Allison.

He’d been expecting an argument from her, but he doesn’t get one.

“Right now, it looks like our only option,” she agrees, “as long as . . .”

“As long as what?”

“Nothing,” she says after a pause, and Mack wonders what she isn’t telling him. “I guess I’ll go pack some things to take with us.”

“It’s probably better if you don’t,” Mack tells her quickly. “We don’t want anyone who’s watching to get the idea that we’re going away.”

“You mean . . . the police?”

“Right. The police.”

“And him, right? You think he’s watching us, too.”

“Not with all these cops around. Listen, I’m going to run upstairs and . . . change my clothes,” he tells her. “And then we’ll go.”

“Okay. I’ll change, too.” She starts toward the stairs, then looks back at him. “Aren’t you coming?”

“In a minute. I just want to . . . grab a book to read. It’ll help pass the time.”

She gives him a funny look, but continues up the stairs.

Mack goes into the living room and pretends to be searching the bookshelves for the perfect beach read.

Yeah, right.

All he wants is to stall until Allison is finished in the bedroom so that he can go up there and slip the gun from the dresser drawer. He left it behind while they were staying at the Webers’, in part because he wasn’t sure there was a safe place to lock it away from the kids, and in part because their house is well protected. But at the beach house, there’s no electric fence, no security gate, no alarm system . . .

Those things aren’t necessary, though, because no one will know we’re there.

And I’ll have the gun, just in case . . .

Anyway, it’s only for another day or two, and then the DNA will prove him innocent, and it will all be over.

Driving the SUV back across town to the Webers’, with Mack trailing behind her in his car, Allison frets.

Maybe she should have warned him that she isn’t sure they’ll be welcome to spend one more night at Ben and Randi’s.

He’d taken that part of the plan for granted, as though it hadn’t occurred to him that even their closest friends—friends who are family—might not be as convinced of his innocence as she is.

And she is. Right?

Of course she is.

She’ll just have to convince Ben and Randi. She reaches into her pocket, pulls out her cell phone, and quickly dials the Webers’ number.

Randi answers on the first ring. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. Are the kids okay?” she asks breathlessly, worried about J.J. on top of everything else, her chest tight with the stress of it all.

“Yes. Where are you?”

“On my way back to your house. Mack is coming, too. Is that . . . all right?”