"Kirby! Open up! It's me!"
The door slowly creaked open.
Hev stood before her, in grease-stained coveralls with a baseball hat covering his unruly blonde locks. Two over-sized tool boxes hung from the end of his wrists.
"Sorry, I'm late. I got everything you want in the truck," Hev said. "Beaver said he'd help with the heavy lifting. He's got a truck, too. You want me to sandbag the foundation pilings first?"
A strange look flickered in the old lady's eyes. She said nothing, disappeared for an instant, and bolted past Hev to stand at the deck rails. He watched as she viciously ripped pieces of paper to pieces.
He stood silent, jaw agape.
Opening her fingers, she watched the tiny pieces float into the water below.
She turned.
"Way too late for that, Hev," Kirby said. "Just pull out the wiring, the plumbing. Knock off the decks and stairs."
"And where do I store your stuff, Kirby? You gotta lotta good stuff. Old. Valuable."
She was already walking away.
"Just leave it," Kirby said. "Leave it all. The sea. She'll know exactly what to do with it."
Hev watched her drive away.
Not once did the old lady look back.
YOU ARE READING
King Tide
General FictionA storm is brewing. Kirby has inherited her mother's beach house. But it holds secrets that will change her forever.
