Page 17 of Grave Stone

“Of course. Who do you think taught me?”

“How is your mom?” I asked. It had been a while since I’d talked to my sister. I needed to call her more often, but I didn’t want to because she got on my damn nerves most of the time. Her daughter, however, was one of my favorite people in the world.

By the time I got off the phone with Mia, almost two hours had passed. Since I was hungry, I drove to the diner to have dinner while I tried to figure out where Whitney could be.

“Hello again,” Kat said. “Seat yourself. I’ll be over with a menu in a sec.”

“No need. I’ll have the same as yesterday.”

“Cheeseburger and fries, no mustard, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I was halfway through my burger when Stephanie’s car drove by. I started to raise my hand to get Kat’s attention but stopped when I overheard her talking to the cook.

“Damn,” she said. “I was hoping they’d stay longer.”

“You knew better than that,” the cook laughed. “Ms. Montgomery likes her privacy. You might not, but she does.”

“I worry is all.”

I decided to stay at the diner and finish my meal instead of running out the door and chasing Stephanie’s car. If she left the area, Glitch and the brothers would know, but if I left the diner, none of us would know where she went if she came back.

Meanwhile, I pulled out my phone and searched for Ms. Montgomery in Montgomery Ridge, South Carolina.

H. U. Montgomery, Direct Descendant of Town Founder Vows to Revive Montgomery Ridge, Starting with Diner

I clicked on the article hoping to find the descendant’s full name. As I was scanning it for information, Kat’s voice caught my attention. “You doing okay, honey?”

“Yes,” I said, clearing my throat. “Sorry. I thought I overheard someone say Ms. Montgomery. Like the town name?”

Kat smiled. “Yes, Hadley Montgomery. Her lake house is right up the road.”

8

WHITNEY

After Stevie and Hadley left, I picked up my sketchbook and headed outside to sit on the balcony and draw. I needed to get lost in a drawing so I could clear my head and hopefully think of a solution to the problem Glenn created.

Glenn. The bastard.

Within minutes, I had a rough sketch of Glenn’s body in a casket—without me. Leaning back, I studied the image and wondered if I should continue. It could be therapeutic, but it would also be evidence of a memory that shouldn’t exist.

Glenn fucked up everything. Sighing, I leaned forward with my elbows on my knees and stared at the wooden slats beneath my feet as my eyes welled with tears. I was exhausted and needed a few minutes of not thinking about Glenn.

I watched as one tear, then another, dripped onto the wood and started to count the wet spots.

Eight. Nine. Te—Holy shit! They found me.

I kept my eyes on the shadow creeping across the patio below me as I quietly stood. Moving back toward the open sliding glass door, I reached inside and grabbed Hadley’s shotgun. Then, I aimed it toward the top of the stairs.

My heart pounded against my chest as I waited for someone to appear.

When the stairs creaked, I held my breath and widened my stance. Dark hair appeared first, then familiar blue eyes met mine.

I waited until he reached the top of the stairs and racked the shotgun.

Ka-chk.