Serial Killer Summer (A 3-Day Novel)

Chapter Twelve

It took me several beats to realize what I was looking at.

"Tracy," I said slowly. "What are you doing?"

Jay had his hand on my shoulder. "Is that—?"

"Yes."

"I'm drying him off. Why?"

The dog was contentedly letting Tracy towel him off and looking at me like nothing was going on, like it was perfectly normal that he would be here, now. He did not bark or get excited or show any sign that he'd ever seen me before.

"That's the dog," I said, quietly. "Jay, try again to get Court and Sam on the walkie-talkie."

He did so, but no response came back.

"What do you mean?" Devon asked. "What dog?"

I gave him the shortest possible recap. "The one who was with the man. The man they had to evacuate the island for."

Tracy pulled the towel back from the dog. He looked at her mournfully.

"But he's gone, right? They said he's gone. Maybe he left the dog here. Or the dog got away?"

I turned to Jay. "We need to go find Court and Sam."

He was already zipping up his jacket again, and grabbing the extra flashlight.

"Maybe you should stay here, and we should call someone?" Tracy suggested.

"Lock the door," I told her. "And call the conservation office. If no one is there, call the police."

"And the dog?" Devon asked.

"I think you should put him outside," Jay said.

The dog let out a whine then, as if he understood. But he was probably just upset that Tracy had stopped towelling. Reluctantly, she brought him to the door, and as Jay and I stepped into the deck, she laid the old towel out under the bench that sat nearby and coaxed the dog to sit there.

The dog looked out a the rain and shuddered against the wind, but obediently sat beneath the bench, resting his sad face on his paws.

Jay checked the charge on the walkie-talkie again, and we headed in the direction of the Lodge.

The rain was coming down fast now. There had been so much rain that year that the ground was waterlogged and unable to absorb much more, so the water ran in rivers in places, flowing like miniature rapids around tree roots and rocks. Thunder and lightning continued; it seemed the slow-moving storm had stalled right above them.

We ran for the nearest entrance, through East Lodge and then into the dining hall, and from there, into the kitchen.

The lights were off, and the place was quiet but for the hum of the walk-in cooler and the rain hitting the western windows.

Jay lifted the walkie-talkie to his mouth and hit the button. Before he had ever uttered an entire word, we heard the crackle of another one nearby.

"Was that you, Jay? Over," came a voice a second later. It was Devon.

I swept my flashlight around the kitchen and saw it, the walkie-talkie that I'd given Courtney and Sam not 20 minutes ago. It was on the chest freezer by the back door.

"Yeah," Jay answered. "It's us. We found Courtney and Sam's walkie-talkie. I think they left it in the kitchen on accident. Over."

There was a long pause. Then, "Well where would they go after that if not back here? Over."