He slid an arm around her and tugged her close. “I’m sorry, Teddy.”
“What are you sorry about?” she asked, resting her head on his shoulder and curving her arm around his taut waist. She needed his solidness right at the moment. “Sorry that I was distracted last night?” She gave him a cheeky grin that she didn’t really feel.
It had been bad enough that someone broke into the cottage and destroyed their stuff, but to know that whoever it was—because theyhadto be the same people who’d planted the recording, didn’t they?—had had a long-term plan was disconcerting.
He gave a short laugh and squeezed her tight. “Definitely not sorry about that. I’m sorry that it wasn’t a ghost—and that it’s definitely mortal beings who have been fucking around with us. I mean, you were pretty excited about the ghost.” He planted a kiss on the top of her head.
She grimaced. “Well, all things considered, I’d much rather deal with a supernatural element than a villainous mortal. I think they’re more dangerous. After all, I write about them.”
When Oscar didn’t respond, she knew he agreed and was probably trying not to worry her.
“But what about the green thing?” she said a few minutes later, when they sat down on the front porch to sort things out. Her mind was finally beginning to work again.
“A projection of some sort, of course,” Oscar replied. He’d pulled out his phone to call Joe Cap, but set it aside. “If we keep looking, I’m sure we’ll find the projector.”
Teddy frowned, then as he picked up the phone, she put her hand out to stop him. “But we saw the green thing at two different places. And it looked different each time. One time it was bluish-green—the first time—and the second time it was puke green.”
Oscar shrugged, but left the phone next to him. “They obviously made adjustments. Think about it, Teddy—the scream was every night at one thirty, like clockwork. The recorder must have been on a timer. It was always at the same time, except the night they broke in.
“That night, the scream was early—andthe green thing was projected so we could see it from the ground as we returned from the hot springs. They planned it that way so the break-in would be connected and seem like it was part of the supernatural element. They must have seen us in town, maybe, or heard that we were there—as we’ve learned, everyone knows everything in Wicks Hollow—and they came out here to stage the break-in and then the ghostly apparition. Maybe we got back too soon, or maybe they just intended to do it after we went to sleep—but when we left to go to the hot spring, they took advantage of the fact.”
Teddy pursed her lips and thought some more. “Yes, that makes sense. They upped their game that night.” Then she shivered and looked around. “They must have seen us leave to go to the pool. They must have been watching from somewhere.”
“Unfortunately, yes.”
“But…that first night. When we were on top of the lighthouse. There was no way anyone could have expected us to go up there. How would they have known to project the image up there? And besides, it—well, it seemed reallyreal. It got so cold.”
Oscar was shaking his head. “I hate to say it, but it’s possible the place could be bugged—or, at least, maybe they were just lurking around here somewhere and heard us talking on the porch.”
Teddy did not like the thought of being spied on all the time. It made her insides horribly queasy. But it also felt a little far-fetched to think that someone was just hanging around—where?
“Where would they have been hiding that we didn’t see them while we were sitting on the porch?” She spread her hands to show the empty area around the cottage and lighthouse. “There’s really nowhere for someone to hide close enough to listen. Unless… Ugh—I hate the idea—unless—”
“The place is or was bugged.” Oscar didn’t seem any more thrilled about it than she did.
“We need to look inside that hidden room,” she said in a low voice in case someone was listening, and bolted to her feet. “Maybe whatever’s in there will tell us who the hell is doing this, and why. And boy, Iva’s going to be really disappointed that there isn’t a ghost after all.”
“Well, Iva’s tender feelings are the least of my worries right now,” Oscar muttered as he stood up. “Let’s go take a look at this room.”
She retrieved the oven mitts from the kitchen and they went out to the trellis. To Teddy’s relief, there didn’t appear to be any fresh markings that indicated it had been moved since she was there yesterday. Even with the heavy rain, this side of the lighthouse was on the opposite side from where the wind had come, and the rosebush was thick enough to have blocked much of it as well, so the tracks wouldn’t have been obliterated.
“Very clever way to hide a door.” Oscar slid it away, sustaining much less thorn damage than she had yesterday. “I forgot my phone on the porch, for its light. We’ll have to share the flash.” He turned it on and shined it into the room.
“Nothing looks different from yesterday,” Teddy said.
“I don’t see how anyone could have come here during the storm last night,” he replied. “It was too dangerous to come by boat, and my Jeep and that downed tree and power line are blocking the road. No one can get through.”
For some reason, an eerie shiver gripped her, and Teddy looked over her shoulder. There was no one around, there couldn’t be…but she felt exposed and nervous.
They were effectively trapped here on the island.
But that was silly. All they had to do was call Declan or the police station—or even the Tuesday Ladies—and any one of them would come and get them. And soon Oscar would have the generator working. And she’d have running water again.
Teddy smiled, but she still felt uneasy.
“Well, look at this.” Oscar shined the small flashlight down into one of the plastic tubs he’d opened. “Wetsuits. Face masks. Flippers. Someone’s been scuba diving.”
“See! I told you,” Teddy said, partly joking, partly intrigued, and partly nervous. “Theycouldhave come here during the storm last night, deep under the water—”
