Page 70 of Drowning in Darkness

“Careful, James. That sounded perilously close to fondness.”

“It wasn’t.”

“Such a relief. I would hate for you to strain something.”

The banter is there, but she’s using it as armor. Not playing, shielding. I understand shields. I have built my life behind them. I press on with the tour because that is what I know how to offer. Facts. Exits. Angles. Systems designed to make danger visible before it reaches the door.

“Emergency route one is back the way we came. If the lodge is compromised, you go to the vehicle bay. There are two SUVs, a snowmobile, and a quad. Keys are coded to the biometric lock inside the bay.”

“Fancy.”

“Necessary.”

“Do I get added to the biometric lock, or is this a ‘watch while James does cool action hero things’ situation?”

“I’ll add you.”

Her steps falter. “You will?”

“You need options.”

Something moves through her expression, too complicated to pick apart in the time it exists. Surprise, maybe. A wariness. Something softer underneath both.

“Thank you,” she breathes.

I nod once and keep walking. “There are panic buttons in the lodge, the vehicle bay, the greenhouse, and the woodshed. They don’t trigger an audible alarm. They lock the house, alert me, and activate the cameras.”

“Of course your panic buttons are stealthy.”

“Loud ones tell people where you are.”

“Mine would play dramatic organ music.”

“That would be counterproductive.”

“Memorable, though.”

“Dead people rarely appreciate atmosphere.”

She wrinkles her nose and starts walking again. “You have a terrible way of ruining my ideas with survival logic.”

“I’ll stop when your ideas improve.”

“Rude.”

“Accurate.”

Her laugh returns, lighter this time, and my shoulders release a little tension as we reach the edge of the decking where it wraps around the far side of the lodge. She stops so abruptly that I turn back, already scanning for what she’s seen.

Not a threat. The hot tub. It’s sunk into the lower deck, covered at the moment, tucked beneath the partial shelter of an extended roof where the wind doesn’t hit as hard. I have barely used it since installing it, but it made sense at the time. Heat therapy is useful after injuries, and during winter, pipes need careful maintenance.

Stephanie stares at it as though she has discovered treasure. “Is that a hot tub?”

“Yes.”

“A sunken hot tub?”

“Yes.”