Page 6 of The Missing Couple

Once they were inside, she waited while he took a tour of the cabin. He thoroughly examined every cabinet, drawer, nook and cranny. The small trash can beneath the sink revealed a bag delivered by a DoorDash driver. He removed the sales receipt that was still attached, looked over it and then tucked it into his pocket.

“They received a food delivery on Saturday night.”

Charly nodded. It was a starting place at least. That one piece of paper suggested they had been in the cabin on Saturday night.

Billie conducted the same thorough perusal of each room. He sniffed their shampoo. The soap and the toothpaste. She might have been startled but she’d read enough mystery novels to understand he was looking for some sort of poison or sedative that may have been added to their products. The idea that he knew what he was doing a little too well crossed her mind. Was he a cop? A private investigator?

Seemed reasonable.

When he finally appeared to be satisfied he’d seen everything, she asked, “What do you think?”

“I think I need to stay here until I find my sister and her husband.”

Charly nodded. “Of course. I’m sure you’re very worried.” Actually, it was difficult to say. He seemed intent. Focused. He’d shown few other emotions. She was extremely worried herself.

“I would like the cabin closest to this one if it’s available.”

Oh, so he literally meant he wanted to stay here. “Of course. Sure. The other guests all checked out yesterday. I haven’t cleaned number seven but number five, the Treehouse, is ready.”

“Treehouse?” His expression told her he wasn’t sure what she meant.

“It’s exactly what it sounds like.” Cabin five had been Alex’s baby. A treehouse. He’d seen an article on the topic in some magazine and decided they had to have one. “It’s a cabin but it’s suspended between two massive trees. The stairs up to it wind around one of the trees. It’s quite unique and gives you a bit of a view from above.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll take you back to your SUV and get the key from the office.”

As they drove back, she pointed out the parking spot for the Treehouse. Of course there was a sign but it was getting darker. Better to be sure he had a grasp on the location.

At the office while he waited, oddly patiently, she put together a basket. She was sure he hadn’t brought anything with him for this sort of situation, so she packed bottled water and a couple of sodas as well as chips and other snacks. Luckily, she had a few power bars. For good measure she tossed in a couple of candy bars. The wicked sugary, chocolatey kind.

When she felt she had put together a decent offering, she thrust the basket at him. “I figured you weren’t prepared for this sort of lodging.”

He accepted the basket. “Thanks.”

She followed him onto the porch. She’d been right. It was mostly dark now. A big moon and blanket of stars provided some amount of light. There was little artificial lighting around the retreat.

She had to know one thing before they parted ways for the night. “Billie.”

At the bottom of the steps, he paused and turned back to her.

“It is possible they just took off for an unexpected excursion and left a message for me at the wrong number.” She shrugged. “Maybe they’re coming back tomorrow.”

His somber gaze was answer enough even before he spoke. “Doubtful.”

Fifteen years she had been running this place. From the days of renting out spots for tents and small campers to the build of each of the cottages. Not once—ever, ever, ever—had a guest been injured or robbed or bothered in any way.

She sure as hell had never lost one.

“You—” she shrugged again “—believe we need to be worried, I mean really worried, about them.”

“Yes.”

And then he was gone.

Chapter Three

Wednesday, July 8