Page 73 of Knox

Sloane’s pretty features crumbled into a grimace. A long moment later, she agreed. “Promise.”

We watched the starry sky while our drinks grew tepid in the evening air, then went inside to lock up for the night. I did another security check while Sloane tested the windows and doors, making sure everything was locked and the new deadbolts were engaged.

Sloane approached and kissed my cheek. “I’m going to shower and change for bed.”

Her soft footfalls padded up the stairs.

I considered going with her, but something stopped me. I wasn’t sure what that was. So, I paced and rechecked the window and door locks, then scanned the perimeter from every vantage. Much of the nighttime beauty of the island could be attributed to the lack of light pollution. The sky illuminated with endless stars and galaxies of light, but the earth was cloaked in darkness.

So when the world lit up like midday, it only took a moment to understand. Someone had triggered the new motion sensors. Apparently all of them.

“Knox?” Sloane’s voice carried from upstairs, tight with fear.

She hurried down the steps in my direction, meeting me in the home’s center.

I took her hand and moved through the house with practiced precision, slapping off overhead lights and staying away from the windows, thankful the curtains were drawn.

“What happened?” she asked. “Birds? Wildlife?”

“I’m not sure yet.” I palmed my phone and checked the security app. The cameras were on. The blasted halo of light through the back yard created a surreal visual against the black waters.

Sloane breathed easier, looking at the screen with me. “Nothing?”

“Maybe.” It was possible that an animal running lengthwise across the property might’ve set off all the sensors, but I couldn’t accept that without an assessment. And given our circumstances, I doubted anything was that simple.

We moved through the first floor together, keeping a careful watch on all windows and doors. I glanced at the camera feed as I moved, watching the waving seagrass for signs of anything nefarious or concerning.

Everything looked normal. But my gut said otherwise.

“Look,” Sloane whispered, drawing my attention to the corner of one image. “Do you see that?”

I zoomed in. Something that looked like string fluttered through the image, there and gone, carried on the wind.

“What is that?”

I pocketed the phone to free my hands and moved in the direction of the area in question. I parted the curtains and spotted the string, rising from a spool in the distance, up over the window and out of sight.

“Is that a kite string?” Sloane whispered.

We turned in near unison and broke into a sprint, moving up the stairs to the rear guest room overlooking the sound. A shadow moved on the roof outside the curtains.

I pushed one arm behind me, warning Sloane to stay back. I inched the curtain panels apart to reveal a kite caught on the roof. Three words were painted across its wingspan.

THAT ONE’S MINE

“Oh my God,” Sloane whispered.

My gaze shot into the distance, following her line of sight to the edge of the marsh and reeds where something merged into the scrub brush.

Then, we were plunged back into darkness.

I pulled Sloane against me and dialed Nash.

“Sheriff’s Department.”

“It’s Knox.” I explained our situation, and he promised to be here in ten minutes.

Sloane and I sat tight, keeping an eye on the threat outside her window.