Page 98 of Silent Bones
Her thumb hovered over the last text she’d sent: “Any word on the murders?”
Nothing.
She tapped the screen off and tucked the phone into her hoodie pocket. The dog bumped his nose against her shin, and she smiled despite herself. “Okay, okay. Dinner time.”
The kibble clattered into the bowl with a sharp rhythm, a sound far too loud in the hush of the cabin. She reached for the fridge to grab a leftover sausage, but as she pulled the door open, something knocked against the milk carton. It teetered, fell, and burst across the floor in a slick white arc.
“Shit.”
Dusty trotted over, tongue out, sniffing like this was the best accident in the world. Avery grabbed a dish towel from the oven handle and crouched down to mop up the mess, but the silence made her pause.
There was a hum.
Not the fridge or the ceiling fan, something farther out. She tilted her head.
The boat shed.
She stood slowly, wiping her hands, stepping over the spill. Through the back window, barely visible between the blinds, asoft glow flickered behind the shed’s warped panels. A motion light, maybe? She didn’t remember turning it on. Her father kept that place locked unless he was tinkering.
The unease was a whisper now, curling up her spine.
She moved to the back door and pressed on the lock to double-check. Still latched. She tried the handle. It was solid. Deadbolt slid in place.
You’re just being paranoid.
Avery turned back to the living room. The glass of water was sweating onto the counter. Dusty had finished his food and was already curling up on the rug, unbothered. She stared at the window again. The cruiser was still there.
It’s nothing.
She said it aloud to silence her mind. Then she moved to the front door and twisted the deadbolt there, too, for good measure. Her hand lingered on the knob a beat too long.
Somewhere outside, a twig snapped.
Her head jerked toward the sound.
Nothing moved.
Not the wind. Not the trees.
Just the lake, swallowing the night.
Dusty got up and approached the rear door. He scratched at it.
“All right.”
Against her better judgement, Avery opened the back door. What had been heavy with warmth now felt hollow, like someone had pulled the heat out of the wind. Dusty darted out ahead of her, nails skittering across the porch boards as he bounded down the steps toward the side yard.
“Hey, stay close!” she called, but he didn’t pause.
The lake whispered in the distance, small waves kissing the rocks, a loon calling far off, but beneath it was another sound.
Boots.
In water.
She stepped to the edge of the porch, hand braced on the railing. Her eyes flicked toward the boat shed. The light was still on.
Then… clink.
