Page 68 of Reeves

The beach parking area is gravel and scattered shells. I pull in next to Ben's truck as he's already hauling the bucket toward the water.

Benjy bolts out before I kill the engine.

"Come on! The trap should be right over here!"

His flashlight cuts wild arcs across the sand.

“He gets like this right before bed,” she says. “Extra energy out of nowhere.”

Charli falls into step beside me like there isn’t six years sitting between us.

Last week I didn’t know the kid existed. Now I’m walking a dark beach with him and the woman I used to share a life with, like I never left.

I keep my eyes ahead.

We follow Benjy’s voice, flashlights cutting steady paths through the dark. The tide has come in. Water laps at sand that was dry this afternoon.

I take a few longer steps and reach him first. The trap is gone. Just smooth sand and the slow push of waves.

His shoulders drop, flashlight dipping.

“It’s gone. We built it wrong.”

Shit.

I crouch beside him and sweep my beam along the wet sand. “See where the water comes up to?”

He nods.

“The tide rolled in after we left.”

He looks at the water, thinking. “So it got washed away?”

“Yeah.”

His mouth tightens. “Then the pirates got away.”

“Not necessarily.”

His head snaps toward me.

“They would’ve seen the tide coming in. Nobody leaves anything where the water’s about to take it.”

He follows that, flashlight lifting.

“So they moved it.”

“Smart pirates would.”

His beam swings toward the higher sand.

“So it might be up there?”

“Exactly where I’d move it.”

He straightens, already moving.

“Come on. Let’s check.”