Page 92 of Property of Bob

“You were giving me the interrogation face.”

“I have an interrogation face?”

“Yes.”

“What does it look like?”

“Like that.”

He almost smiled. “What’d you do after the second break-in?”

“Left.”

“Immediately?”

“Pretty much.”

“And drove here.”

“Yes.”

“Why?” There was no humor in his voice now.

I’d known that question was coming. I looked down at my hands.

“Ramona.”

“Because I didn’t know where else to go.”

His expression changed slightly.

I shook my head. “That’s not exactly true. I could’ve gone a lot of places. I could’ve found another campground. I could’ve stayed in a hotel somewhere. I could’ve called Clint.”

“But you came here.”

“Yes.”

“To me.”

“Yes.”

His eyes stayed on mine.

I swallowed. “When things started getting weird, I kept thinking it would stop. I quit. I wasn’t around the campground anymore. Whatever my boss was doing wasn’t my problem.” I shrugged. “But then the RV got broken into again, and somebody was obviously looking for something. I didn’t know what the hell was going on anymore.”

“So you came to Skull Island.”

“I figured showing up at a place run by a motorcycle club would probably discourage anyone from following me.”

One corner of his mouth lifted. “That was a solid plan.”

“It wasn’t terrible.”

“Didn’t say it was.”

I leaned back slightly. “Besides, I figured nobody would be stupid enough to follow me onto an island full of bikers.”

Ash’s smile disappeared.