Chapter 15

“Everleigh?” Spencer’s voice, despite being frantic, is soft and concerned. “Hey, Ev. I need you to wake up.” He gently pats my cheek.

I groan, my body sore and stiff. “What happened?”

Spencer sighs with relief. “You passed out.”

Everything comes rushing back to me—kissing Spencer, the boat lurching and throwing me around, the dead body, blacking out. I scramble to sit up, and my back hits the bench. I hug my knees to my chest.

“The body…” I shudder. “That person is dead.”

“Yes.” Spencer smooths his hand down my hair and rests his palm on my shoulder. “How’re you feeling?”

“Sick to my stomach. Confused.” I laugh bitterly. “Why’s there a dead body in the lake, Spencer?”

He shrugs and sinks to sit on the floor in front of me. “No idea.”

Accidents on the lake resulting in deaths is nothing new, and at least once a week the news runs a story about something like this, but that body looked like it had been there for a while. I shudder again and hug my legs tighter to my chest. I rest my forehead on my knees.

“We’re only a mile from the next town. When we get there, we’ll tell the authorities what we found. They can deal with it,” he says.

I nod but don’t lift my head.

“I made a note of where we found the body, so I can give the police accurate coordinates,” he continues, and I can’t help but wonder if he’s telling me this to distract himself from our unexpected discovery. Maybe he’s not as calm about the whole thing as I thought.

He falls silent, and the only sound now is the hum of the boat engine, the squawk of seagulls, and the water lapping against the boat. Just this morning, those noises had been peaceful and comforting. Now, they’re a reminder of how alone we are, how dangerous the lake can be.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Spencer asks.

Finally, I lift my head and meet his gaze. “Physically, I’m fine. A little sore, but I’ll be okay. But I’m freaked out.”

He sighs, then frowns. “Yeah, finding a dead body is really freaky, but people die on this lake all the time.” He glances over my head. “We’re here.”

Thank God. My shoulders slump with relief. Spencer stands and holds his hand out to me. I accept his help, and he pulls me to my feet. Instead of releasing my hand like I expect, he tugs me closer and presses a kiss to my forehead.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” he whispers.

I want to believe him, but I can’t shake this sense of dread that’s settled over me. With an encouraging smile, Spencer nods, then returns to the helm. I stand with my arms wrapped around myself as he maneuvers the boat to the nearest open dock. A bone deep chill takes root, and I can’t stop from shivering.

Only then do I realize I’m still wearing my bikini. No way am I getting off this boat and talking to the police wearing this. I hurry below deck to change into something more appropriate. What should have taken a few minutes ends up taking almost fifteen because I’m shivering so bad, I can’t get any of my clothes on the right way. Finally, I jerk my arms through the sleeves of the hoodie Spencer loaned me, and I yank it over my head. I slip my feet into my favorite pair of flip-flops and head above deck.

Spencer ties off the last rope, securing the boat to the dock. He lifts a brow when he sees me. “A hoodie, really? It’s like ninety degrees out today.”

“I’m cold,” I say with a shrug.

“Okay then.” He grins and helps me off the boat. “We’ll go straight to the police first. Then we can find some food, if you want.”

I nod and rub my hands up and down my arms. The chill is slowly dissipating, but I still can’t completely shake it. Hopefully, walking around will help warm me up more. Spencer takes my hand, laces our fingers, and we walk down the dock toward land.

Goose bumps rise on my arms—from the cold, or something else? I glance around. No one else is in sight. On such a gorgeous, hot day, I figured the beach would be packed, but everything’s quiet—eerily so. I look over my shoulder; all the docks are empty, too. Not a single boater or fisherman anywhere.

“Uh… Spencer?” I clutch his hand tighter and inch closer to him.

“Yeah?” He seems oblivious to the lack of people around us.

“Where is everyone?” I ask.

Spencer stops and looks around. He narrows his eyes, drops my hand, and spins in a slow circle. I hold my breath, not daring to make any sound, as if doing so will wreak havoc with the creepy silence surrounding everything.

“That’s… odd,” he says.

I laugh with surprise. “Odd? It’s downright creepy.”

“Yeah.” He takes hold of my hand again, and our pace is much faster as we hurry toward town.

The scene on Main Street is identical to the docks—silence. Total lack of people and activity. Cars are parked haphazardly on the road, doors open and engines running as if they were unwillingly abandoned in a hurry. Store windows are busted, interior lights on, yet nothing has been looted that I can see. Dread lands hard in my gut. Something is seriously wrong.

“Stay close to me,” Spencer says.

This time, I don’t argue or tell him not to boss me around. The last thing I want right now is to be alone. We walk at a steady pace, though we’re both cautious, and our heads are on a swivel. The town looks like it’s been ravaged, its residents run off. But where did they all go? And who did this?

“There’s the police station.” Spencer nods at the building at the end of the block.

We pick up our pace, and I focus on our destination rather than my disturbing thoughts. And I keep my gaze forward, not wanting to see any more of whatever this was. Spencer jogs up the steps of the police station and yanks open the door. Normally, he always motions for me to enter first, but this time, he steps inside ahead of me. I’m not complaining.

Staying close to him, I follow. Just like outside, no one is here. My heart jackhammers in my chest, and my ears ring with a dire warning. “Spencer,” I whisper.

“I know.” His voice is as grim as his expression. “Maybe someone’s hiding in the back.”

I don’t hold much hope, but I’m willing to go along with him so I don’t have to be left alone. Spencer steps carefully through the station, and I can’t help but feel like we’re criminals trying not to leave any evidence of our presence here.

To my left is a door with Captain Connors engraved across the front in gold letters. Spencer glances back at me, brow raised. I shrug. Carefully, he pushes the door open. A strong, vaguely familiar scent hangs in the air, though I can’t quite place what I’m smelling. But, like everywhere else, this office is empty, too. Hopelessness claws deeper inside of me, and tears burn my eyes.

“Where is everyone?” I ask again, horrified.

“I don’t know, but look.” Spencer points to the phone on the desk. Several buttons are lit up red.

A spark of relief ignites in my chest. “We can call for help!” I drop his hand and rush around the desk.

My foot slams into something hard and unmoving, and I grunt with the sharp sting of pain that shoots up my leg. I glance down. Eyes wide, I back up as fast as I can, knocking into the corner of the desk, the filing cabinet, and eventually the wall. My scream echoes around me, but I can’t stop no matter how hard I try.

Spencer is in front of me in a flash, his hand cupped over my mouth to silence me. “Shh. We have no idea what’s going on around here, and we don’t want to draw attention to ourselves.” He holds my gaze until I nod my understanding, though his words only intensify my fear. Easing his hand from my mouth, he looks over his shoulder.

Bodies of four policemen are piled up behind the desk in a heap of tangled limbs. Blood soaks the floor around them, and I realize that’s what I smelled when we walked in. I momentarily close my eyes and blow out a shaky breath.

An hour ago, the only dead body I had ever seen was on TV, and now I’ve seen several—up close and personal. My stomach churns. I’m going to be sick, and I’m not sure there’s anything I can do to stop it.

“I need some air.” I bolt toward the office door, but Spencer intercepts me before I can escape.

He clutches my shoulders and bends his knees so he can peer into my eyes. “I know this is awful, but you cannot leave here without me, Everleigh. We have no idea what’s going on.”

Everything he doesn’t say, the implied warning that whoever did this might still be here, hangs around my neck like a noose. I swallow hard and nod. The tears I’ve been fighting slip free and cascade down my cheeks.

Spencer frowns and drags his hands down my arms. He gives my hands a gentle squeeze, but the gesture does nothing to comfort me. “Don’t move, okay?”

“Okay.” I sniffle and wipe the tears from my face.

He steps around me and walks around behind the desk. Then he crouches out of view, and I stare at where he stood a moment ago, waiting for him to reappear. Seconds later, he does, and his expression is a mixture of rage and terror.

“You didn’t see anyone, right?” he asks.

“No.” I hug myself.

“C’mon.” He grips my arm, firm but gentle, and leads me out of the office. “We need to leave. Now.”

“What?” My steps falter. Not that I want to hang around here, but… “Why? What about calling for help?”

“Who’re we going to call?” He nudges me to keep walking. “No one’s here, and the police are dead.”

I gag at the memory of their dead bodies and the repugnant stench of blood, but I don’t attempt to resist Spencer’s rushed pace. I’m freaked out enough for the both of us, and knowing he’s worried now, too, only ratchets my fear.

By the time we make our way to the edge of town and the docks come into view, we’re both running. My side hurts with sharp pains—an obvious sign that I’m out of shape—and I’m gasping for breath. Spencer, however, doesn’t seem the least bit winded by our impromptu sprint.

He reaches the boat a few seconds before me, and he practically tosses me on board. Then he zips around the dock, untying the ropes and speeding away. He continuously tosses glances behind him as if he’s expecting to see someone chasing us. So, naturally, I keep looking, too, but no one follows. We’re completely and totally alone out here.

I slouch down on the bench and lean over, tucking my head between my legs. I focus on my breathing and slowing my racing heart, but the speed of the boat and the rocking waves counteracts all my efforts. Bile coats my throat, and sweat beads on my brow. My vision blurs slightly, and I blink against the sudden vertigo. Then, I scramble onto the bench, lean on the railing, and hurl over the side of the boat.