Page 60 of Seaside Strangers
What was he doing upstairs?
Kellerman had kept the beach house under watch long enough to catch the comings and goings that mattered. He’d seen her earlier—out in thedriveway with four men, two of whom left shortly after.
After that, movement had been minimal. A third man left later on, but she hadn’t come back outside. Not once.
That didn’t add up.
The timing of this guy’s sudden departure after the cops showed up pointed somewhere else.
He shifted his focus back to the building, running through the possibilities. If the man had rushed over here the first chance he got, whatever he wanted was inside that apartment. Maybe the woman. Maybe something connected to her. Either way, it was worth checking.
He eased his vehicle into an alley three doors down from the entrance and killed the engine. The quiet that followed was broken only by the faint hum of the town settling into the evening.
He glanced at the man in the passenger seat. “Let’s handle this and get out of here.”
They both slipped out of the car, closing the doors quietly. Moving on foot, they exited the alley and stepped onto the sidewalk, their attention sweeping the street out of habit. The town looked still, storefronts dark, no one lingering nearby.
Good.
They crossed to the door, and Kellerman crouched at the lock, pulling out his tools. The mechanism gave way in under a minute, as expected. He pushed the door open enough for them to slip inside, then eased it shut.
The stairwell loomed ahead, dim and narrow. Without a word, they started up, each step measured, every sound kept to a minimum as they moved toward whatever waited on the second floor.
Moriah and Dan had just started another competitive game when Jinx suddenly jumped off the new couch and fixed his gaze on the front door. The low, threatening growl that followed sent a chill straight through her. The dog was usually easygoing—playful even—but there was nothing playful in the sound rumbling from his chest now.
Dan shot out of his chair, yanked open the drawer of the side table, and pulled out his Colt revolver. Before she could fully process what was happening, he pressed the weapon into her hands and guided her toward the bedroom.
“Go in there, lock the door,and call 9-1-1.”
“But… but…” The words tangled in her throat as panic took hold.
“Don’t argue—just go,” he said under his breath, firm and urgent.
Fear took over. She hurried to the small bedroom, casting one last glance over her shoulder. Dan had already grabbed a baseball bat from the closet near the kitchenette. The sight of it only made her pulse race faster. She slipped inside the room, eased the door shut, and turned the lock as quietly as she could.
Her hand went straight to her pocket.
Nothing.
Damn it!
Her phone was still out in the living room.
A fresh wave of terror surged, but she forced herself to look around. There—a landline on the nightstand across the bed. She scrambled over the mattress, nearly dropping the revolver as she reached for the receiver. Her hands shook so badly she had to set the gun down to dial. The first attempt came out wrong. So did the second. On the third try, the call finally connected.
“9-1-1, what is your emergency?”
The calm, steady voice on the other end unraveled the last thread holding her together. Tearsblurred her vision as she tried to speak, but she managed to give the information through the fear clawing up her throat.
When the operator told her to stay on the line, she swallowed hard. “I—I’m putting the phone down so I can hold the gun,” she said, her voice trembling. She didn’t wait for a response. The receiver slipped from her fingers onto the bed as she grabbed the revolver again.
She dropped to her knees on the floor beside the bed, using the mattress as cover as she raised the weapon with both hands, like KC had shown her. The weight of it felt different now—heavier, more real. She aimed the muzzle over the edge of the bed toward the door, forcing herself to keep it steady as she listened.
Every creak, every faint sound from the other room seemed amplified, her pulse pounding in her ears as she strained to hear what was happening beyond the door.
Dan pressed his back against the wall beside the front door, the baseball bat raised and ready. Every muscle in his body was coiled tight, his focus lockedon the entrance. Jinx stood in the middle of the room, rigid and alert, a deep, continuous growl vibrating from his chest.
Then the dog’s growl snapped into furious barking.
