Page 52 of The Woman By the Lake

Well, that was a relief.

He kept looking around, and he did this awhile, veering from the path, from what I could tell, and also going farther than I thought was needed.

Only after he looked around the space where I thought the stables had been—not that I’d investigated, just that the trees there weren’t as tall, so they had to be younger—did he come back.

I’d gone to the top of the steps, and I didn’t move out of his way, even when he was only one step down from me.

And I didn’t because I wasn’t certain about the expression on his face.

“Well?” I prompted when he didn’t say anything.

“Looks like some stones have been freshly dislodged.”

“But no footprints?”

He shook his head.

That meant animals probably did it.

That expression, however, was still on his face.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s not a thing,” he didn’t quite answer.

“What’s not a thing?”

“It’s dark. I’ll come out tomorrow when it’s daylight and look again.”

Oh no.

“What, Riggs?”

He took a second, and I was about to ask again, when he pushed out, “There aren’t any animal tracks either.”

I stared at him.

No animal tracks either.

So who—or what—dislodged those stones?

I knew one answer.

And that answer was great.

Just great.

ELEVEN

Our Patch

Nadia

I woke to the sound of two things.

One was thunder rumbling in the distance.

The other was scratching at the reading nook window.

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