A Stranger on the Beach(58)

I threw my phone down in frustration. My dream house, that I’d worked and slaved for, that I’d put blood, sweat, and most of my money into, sat directly in the path of a raging hurricane. The front door was wide open, leaving the house exposed to the elements. I wanted to rush out there and do something about it. But if I did, I could be walking into a trap. I had a strange tingling sensation on the back of my neck that I couldn’t ignore. Sometimes paranoia was justified by the facts. Aidan had been stalking me for days now. It wasn’t crazy to think he’d broken into my house. He might be lurking there right this minute, lying in wait to ambush me. I couldn’t take that risk.

But I could call the police, without ever mentioning Aidan’s name. I’d simply report that the alarm had been triggered. They’d have to believe me. If Aidan was in the house, they’d find him, and they’d have no choice but to arrest him, right?

I found the number for the Glenhampton Police Department and dialed.

“Police dispatch,” a woman’s voice answered.

“I’d like to report a break-in at my house.”

“What’s the address?”

I gave it to her.

“Can you see the intruder?”

“No. I’m not at the house. My neighbor called to tell me my burglar alarm is going off.”

“You are not currently the house?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Is anybody else in there?”

“The burglar.”

“Your neighbor saw this individual break in?”

“Not exactly. She heard the alarm go off, and she says the front door is open.”

“Are there signs of forced entry? Broken windows, or the like?”

“I don’t know.”

“We’ve got sustained winds over fifty miles per hour and rising. That could account for the open door and the alarm.”

“Maybe, but shouldn’t somebody check it out?”

“All right. Name of the reporting party, please?”

“Me? I’m Caroline Stark.”

“Ms. Stark, I’m radioing this to all patrol officers so if there’s a car in the area, they can swing by and take a look.”

“Can you send somebody over there right away?”

“Ma’am, all vehicles are busy responding to emergencies related to the storm.”

“But this is an emergency. My house is getting robbed.”

“Property crimes come after emergencies that threaten loss of life. Once the other calls are completed, they will turn to this one.”

“But somebody broke into my house.”

“Ma’am, to set your mind at ease, the majority of calls we get about alarms being triggered are false. You got your animals, the wind, systems malfunction. In all likelihood, this is nothing.”

“Really? That’s funny. I’ve heard there’ve been a ton of burglaries in Glenhampton lately, and the police haven’t made a single arrest.”

“Ma’am, your call was sent out, and now I need to take another call,” the dispatcher said, and hung up.

So much for my tax dollars at work.

My phone lit up, and a message from Hannah appeared on the screen.

Hey sorry I hung up on u before, she wrote.

I wanted to yell at her. I wanted information. Who was the boy? What were his intentions? How were his grades? Did he drink or do drugs? How far had they gone? But I restrained myself. If I acted too eager, she’d shut me down.

That’s okay honey. How was your date? I texted back.

Three little dots appeared. She was answering.

Great, Hannah wrote. We hung out for a long time. He’s a little older. Super sensitive and smart. Oh, and he’s gorgeous, check out this selfie we took.

I smiled. If Hannah was happy, then something was going right in the world.

As the photo loaded, I saw her, sitting on the edge of her bed in her dorm room, with the pink and orange tie-dyed bedspread we’d chosen together that matched her pink and orange throw pillows. The so-called smart, sensitive, older guy sat right beside her, his arm thrown loosely around her shoulders. And my heart stopped.

It was Aidan.





38


My first instinct was to warn her.

Are you still with him? I typed, fingers flying over my phone. Get away! He’s dangerous.

I stopped typing. Aidan couldn’t be with Hannah now. My house was an hour’s drive from her school, and I was ninety-nine percent sure he’d just broken into it and set off the alarm. Maybe this photo was from earlier tonight? But I couldn’t take that risk.

Is he with you now? I texted, and waited for her reply, my heart in my throat.

When she didn’t respond, I started pacing, climbing the walls, my mind racing. I stared at the picture she’d sent me. Aidan looked indifferent, bored, almost annoyed. He didn’t care about Hannah. He was with her to taunt me, using her to get to me. He could end up hurting her—emotionally, even physically. Maybe he wasn’t the one who’d set off the alarm. Maybe he was still with her. The thought was terrifying. I had to do something.

I typed the beginnings of multiple texts, then deleted them. In order to explain why Hannah should fear Aidan, I’d have to confess my one-night stand. I’d be telling her that a guy she liked—the first guy she’d ever liked, as far as I knew—was playing her in order to get to me. To get to her own mother. The very idea was so sick, so twisted, that it made me nauseous. I’d also be confessing that I cheated on her father. Even though Jason cheated first, Hannah would blame me. She loved Jason best. It wasn’t fair, but it was true. He could do no wrong in her eyes. What would it do to Hannah to know all that? Destroy her self-esteem? Destroy our relationship? I had to think this through.