Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(49)

“There’s, there’s someone out there. By the lake,” said Cricket gasping, looking back the way they came.

Mako followed her glance but did not move from his relaxed slouch in the bubbling water. The scent of bromine wafted from the lit circle of blue water.

“Out where?” he asked, still peering into the darkness, unconcerned.

“By Tearwater Lake,” gasped Hannah. “Where they found the body of that little girl.”

Mako laughed, hardy and loud. “That guy was just fucking with you, Han.”

“No,” said Cricket. “It really happened. We Googled it.”

“Oh, yeah,” he said with a mock-scared widening of his eyes. “If it’s on Google it must be true.”

There was music coming from speakers somewhere, something low and jazzy. From where Hannah stood, the kitchen and the house looked empty. Chef Jeff and Ingrid had obviously cleaned up and headed out. She thought about the chef, his steely blue gaze, the bone sculpture, the assistant with the spider on her hand. What if it was one of them, still lingering, watching?

“There was someone out there,” said Hannah.

“Wait,” said Mako. He floated over closer to them, squinting at Cricket. “Are you guys high?”

Cricket, calmer now, smiled. “Maybe a little.”

Mako held out a meaty palm. “Hand it over.”

With a coquettish tilt of her head, Cricket produced a third gummy from her pocket, handed it to Mako who popped it, unhesitating, into his mouth.

“I think we need to call someone,” said Hannah, still peering into the darkness.

“Who?” asked Mako, annoyingly chill.

“Uh, the cops,” Hannah said, heart still thudding. “The owner.”

“And say what?”

“That we think we saw someone on the property. That someone was watching us.”

The rest of it tumbled out—the old review she’d read, how she’d felt someone was watching her when they first arrived.

Mako wore that certain look that she absolutely hated—a kind of knowing, male smirk. “Hannah, are you being serious right now?” he asked easily. “And should we also tell them that you are drunk, and high, to boot?”

She started to argue that she was neither drunk nor high, and then she realized she was both. Like very. The world felt vague and wobbly.

She and Cricket locked eyes. A beat passed before they started laughing—big, gulping belly laughs so hard that Hannah almost peed.

What had they seen out there? Anything? Something. Definitely something. But what?

“It could have been anyone—a neighbor maybe?” Cricket said.

“There are no other properties around here for miles.”

“Or maybe it was just the trees. It was dark. We are fucked-up.”

Maybe. Probably. Like the light she saw from the gazebo. Just stories sparking her imagination. She was prone to that, wasn’t she?

“Maybe you’re right,” she admitted. She kept watching the path, the night, though. Something tingling, a sense of unease, of foreboding.

Cricket moved toward the house, the whole thing dropped as though it never happened.

“I’ll be right back,” she said. “I’m just going to see what’s going on with my workaholic boyfriend.”

Hannah observed Mako watching Cricket with something like petulance on his face. She ignored it as she dropped her robe and climbed into the tub. Oh, the water. It felt so good.

She glanced at the clock on the wall inside. It wasn’t as late as she thought. Not yet midnight. It seemed so much later.

And was that thunder? She listened but it was hard to hear over the hot tub jets. She watched the sky for the telltale flash, but didn’t see anything.

Florida people were always staring up at the sky, watching for those big thunderheads, waiting for the air to chill with the approach of a storm. As kids it was drilled into you; if you hear thunder, come inside. And as kids, they’d always pushed the edge of that warning, waiting for the next rumble, or to see a distant skein of lightning in the darkening sky before racing out of the pool or the ocean and inside to safety.

Now, as a mom, she was inside even at the most distant sound. But they weren’t in Florida; they were deep in the woods in Georgia. Gigi was safe at home. And, Mako was right about one thing, she was pleasantly buzzing. She let the water bubble and soothe, wash everything else away.

“Where’s the big guy?” asked Mako.

She rolled her eyes. “Where else? Working. He said he wouldn’t be long. Must be something in the water. Can’t get the men around here to take some time off.”

“I’m here,” said Mako. “Present and accounted for. Ready to protect the women from ghosts and shadowy figures on the property.”

Mako leaned his head back, closed his eyes again. And Bruce’s words rang back to Hannah. She tried to keep the guilt, the worry off her face. She didn’t want to think about real things right now—ghosts and strangers in the woods were preferable to the real dynamics of family.

“He’s a good guy, Hannah,” said Mako. When she looked over at him, he was gazing at her. “You seem happy.”

Hannah studied her brother’s face, saw something she didn’t recognize and didn’t like. A sadness. This was the moment to ask him if he’d taken the test, what he’d found. They might not have another moment alone.