Page 15 of Property of Anchor

“Dad?”I asked, glancing over at the older man in white overalls.

Pearl nodded.“Bert is my dad.He owns Brush Masters.”

Well, hell.That was interesting.

“Let’s drop your bags off at the cabins first,” I said, turning to Pearl and Bernice.

“I’ll be going with,” Bert interjected before either woman could answer.Protective dad mode activated.I could respect that.

“Lost,” I barked over my shoulder.“Grab their bags.”

“I got mine,” Pearl said, shifting her duffle on her shoulder.

“Me too,” Bernice added, eyeing Lost like she’d arm-wrestle him before he took her bag.

“He’ll take them,” I said, giving a look that cut through any more arguing.“Prospects are here to help.”

Lost didn’t complain.Just grabbed the duffles with a grunt and followed behind.

He’d been a prospect for eight months.Still had at least four more before we’d even consider patching him in.Wannabe had longer.The kid didn’t even have the grit to shave properly.

The cabins came into view through the trees, and Bert slowed his pace.

“Pretty secluded,” he muttered, giving a cautious glance toward the haunted house and the winding trail we’d left behind.

“Perfect for sleep,” Bernice chimed in.“I’m not one for late nights.”

Pearl laughed.“I don’t think anything could keep Bernice from being asleep by seven.”

“Early sleeper,” I said with a chuckle.“Haunted house is just getting warmed up by then.”

Bernice gave me a long, hard look.“Nothing good happens after the sun goes down.”

I didn’t disagree.

She didn’t say anything else.Just pointed at the right-side cabin and walked up the porch.

“Well, that’s the one she’s claimed,” Pearl said, turning toward the other.“Guess I’ll take this one.”

Lost followed Bernice into her cabin with her bag, and Bert went in behind them.

Pearl pushed open the door to hers and stepped inside.I followed and leaned against the frame while she took it all in.

She turned in a slow circle as her eyes skated over the old couch, chipped cabinets, and the flickering overhead light.

She pointed at the huge box TV.“That thing still work?”

“Barely.But you can watch VHS tapes on it.”I motioned toward the stack near the fireplace.

She moved to them and flipped through titles.“Are they all scary movies?”

“You’re staying on Skull Island, doll.Scary is what we do here.”

She laughed softly, still crouched by the tapes, flipping through titles with more curiosity than fear.

A knock sounded on the frame behind me.

“Knock knock,” Bert said and stepped in.“Bernice was worried she took the bigger cabin, but they’re identical.That old TV and VCR in there too.”

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