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Hannah
Mako was already in the hot tub when they returned breathless to the deck.
“What the fuck?” He’d had his back against the edge, eyes closed but sat up to look them as they thundered up the stairs. “Where were you guys?”
“There’s, there’s someone out there. By the lake,” said Cricket gasping, looking back the way they came.
Mako followed her glance but did not move from his relaxed slouch in the bubbling water. The scent of bromine wafted from the lit circle of blue water.
“Out where?” he asked, still peering into the darkness, unconcerned.
“By Tearwater Lake,” gasped Hannah. “Where they found the body of that little girl.”
Mako laughed, hardy and loud. “That guy was just fucking with you, Han.”
“No,” said Cricket. “It really happened. We Googled it.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said with a mock-scared widening of his eyes. “If it’s on Google itmustbe true.”
There was music coming from speakers somewhere, something low and jazzy. From where Hannah stood, the kitchen and the house looked empty. Chef Jeff and Ingrid had obviously cleaned up and headed out. She thought about the chef, his steely blue gaze, the bone sculpture, the assistant with the spider on her hand. What if it was one of them, still lingering, watching?
“There was someone out there,” said Hannah.
“Wait,” said Mako. He floated over closer to them, squinting at Cricket. “Are you guyshigh?”
Cricket, calmer now, smiled. “Maybe a little.”
Mako held out a meaty palm. “Hand it over.”
With a coquettish tilt of her head, Cricket produced a third gummy from her pocket, handed it to Mako who popped it, unhesitating, into his mouth.
“I think we need to call someone,” said Hannah, still peering into the darkness.
“Who?” asked Mako, annoyingly chill.
“Uh, thecops,” Hannah said, heart still thudding. “Theowner.”
“And say what?”
“That we think we saw someone on the property. That someonewas watchingus.”
The rest of it tumbled out—the old review she’d read, how she’d felt someone was watching her when they first arrived.
Mako wore that certain look that she absolutely hated—a kind of knowing, male smirk. “Hannah, are you being serious right now?” he asked easily. “And should we also tell them that you are drunk, and high, to boot?”
She started to argue that she was neither drunk nor high, and then she realized she was both. Like very. The world felt vague and wobbly.
She and Cricket locked eyes. A beat passed before they started laughing—big, gulping belly laughs so hard that Hannah almost peed.
What had they seen out there? Anything? Something. Definitely something. But what?
“It could have been anyone—a neighbor maybe?” Cricket said.
“There are no other properties around here for miles.”
“Or maybe it was just the trees. Itwasdark. Wearefucked-up.”
Maybe. Probably. Like the light she saw from the gazebo. Just stories sparking her imagination. She was prone to that, wasn’t she?
