“That’s true.”
“It might make sense to check it out, make sure nothing’s missing.”
She hesitated. “When?”
“How about before I drop you off at Caleb’s?” he said quickly.
He helped her into the truck and followed the road out of town. At first, the drive felt normal. Familiar roads. Early evening light filtering through the trees. Roy drove the way he always did, one hand resting on the wheel, the other resting easy. The truck rumbled along the back road he knew by heart.
Mia watched the traffic thin as they passed the last intersection leading back toward town.
“This is farther out than I remembered,” she said. Her off-site storage was near the old marina. Cheaper than in town. She rarely thought about it unless she needed something special. Besides, Roy usually picked up the bulky things—tables, folding chairs, bins of linens.
Roy nodded. “You don’t come out here often. Only when you’re rotating stock.”
“That’s true,” she said. She frowned slightly. “I usually come during the day.”
“Exactly.”
The road narrowed. Trees closed in, the canopy thickening overhead. The pavement roughened beneath the tires. Roy eased off the gas.
She glanced at the dashboard clock. “I hope this isn’t going to take long. It’s dark, and I really need to get to Caleb’s.”
“We’re almost there,” Roy said.
She nodded, though a small ripple of unease settled in her gut. This wasn’t the way she remembered. The storage unit should’ve been closer by now.
The pavement gave way to gravel. The sound of tires crunching sounded loud to her ears.
Mia straightened in her seat.
The lot was mostly empty, cracked asphalt, weeds pushing through the seams. No boats. No movement.
Then the sound drifted in.
Laughter. Music. A low thud of bass drifted in the air.
“The Rusty Anchor,” she said softly.
Roy nodded. “Not far.”
That helped. More than she wanted to admit.
Water wasn’t visible yet, but she could feel it. The air was cooler here. Damp.
Roy pulled to a stop near the edge of the lot.
“Where’s the unit?” Mia asked, scanning the tree line.
“Just beyond that,” Roy said, nodding toward a darker stretch where the brush thickened. “Set back from the road.”
That made sense. Storage units were usually tucked away.
They got out of the truck. Gravel shifted under her shoes as they walked. The sound of the Anchor rising and falling with the breeze. Close enough to feel normal. Far enough to still feel wrong.
They’d taken only a few steps when someone moved ahead near the trees.
A figure stepped out of the shadows between brush and gravel.
