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“Check for her shoes,” I say. “In case she went outside for a walk.”
“At three in the morning?” Garrett says.
“We need to go,” Kit says. “Laney? Where’s your laptop bag?”
Garrett spins on him. “My sister is missing, and some kid has beenmurdered.No one gives a shit about Laney’s precious laptop.”
Jayla runs back in. “Sadie’s not in the house.”
“Okay,” Kit says. “Can you go with Laney and Madison to the boathouse—”
“We are not abandoning my sister,” Garrett says.
“We won’t,” Kit continues. “I’ll help you look outside. Laney? Jayla? Take Madison to the boat and get it running. We’ll be there soon.”
“No one is leaving this island until I say so,” Garrett snaps. “I’m a fucking cop, and this is a fucking murder scene.”
“And the fucking killer is still fucking here!” Jayla snarls at him.
“So is mysister!”
“Someone needs to get Madison off the island,” I say. “I’ll stay and help search but—”
“I’ve got this,” Jayla says. “Kit, go with Laney and Madison. Garrett and I will find Sadie.”
We go. The longer we argue, the worse things will be, and I absolutely must get Madison off this island. What the hell was I thinking, bringing her here?
I barely process leaving the house or running to the boathouse. I dimly feel pain throbbing through my injured foot, dimly hear the slap of our bare feet on the rocks and feel the bite of the rising wind. We run. We just run.
When Kit pulls the boathouse door, it stays closed.
Did I lock it earlier? Didhe? I can’t remember. I can’t care. I only care that it takes five precious seconds for Kit to get the code in. His fingers are shaking, and he mumbles “Sorry, sorry” when he fails the first time. Then he’s yanking open the door and shining the flashlight on—
On the empty berth.
“Where’s the boat?” Madison says. Her voice rises. “Where the hell is the boat?”
The exit door is wide open, and the boat is gone.
“Kit!” a voice shouts outside. It’s Jayla, and I run to the doorway, knife gripped in my hand. She’s running, Garrett behind her.
“Sadie’s gone.” She stops, heaving to catch her breath. “Her shoes are gone. Her purse is gone. Her bag is gone. I don’t know where—” Her gaze moves to the empty berth. “What the—? Shit!”
Sadie is gone. She argued with me. She argued with Kit and god knows who else, and she stormed off in a snit, stranding us on the island… with a killer.
SEVEN
“Back inside!” Kit shouts, herding Madison toward the boathouse door. “Everyone inside.”
Garrett jumps into our path. “My sister is out here.”
“No, your sister is outthere.” Jayla jabs a finger at the lake. “She stole our only fucking way off this island.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” Garrett says. “The boy was murdered, and whoever did it is on the island, but when Sadie disappears, you decide she’s fine—she just stole your damn boat.”
“Because her things are gone,” Kit says, his voice even. “She didn’t mean to strand us with a killer. She was upset, and she left. She’ll calm down, and in the morning, she’ll come back or send a charter. Now we need to get in—”
Garrett crosses his arms. “Prove she took your boat.”
