Page 126 of Archer

Knox answered on the second ring. “Hey, man. Everything good?”

“That’s what we’re calling to ask you,” Archer said. “Harper and I are getting a little concerned by this rain.”

“We’re doing fine. Island Adventures is small but mighty.” A pause, and through the line I could make out rain against metal roofing, harder and more industrial than we had at the house. “Storm took out both access routes about an hour ago. We tried one of them. Only made it about forty yards before we turned back.”

“Any idea how long this will last?”

“No. Colton’s watching the weather reports, but so far the predictions were all wrong. This thing definitely showed up to show out.”

“Hey,” Sloane’s voice rose in the background. “I’m guessing the worst of it will pass in a couple of hours. Rains could linger until morning, but the roads should clear before that.”

“Sloane says three hours,” Knox repeated. “My money’s on her over the weather reporter.”

I smiled, and Archer shook his head. “Sounds good.”

“We’re dry. We’ve got food and power out here,” Knox said. “Don’t waste energy worrying about us.”

“Anything new on Webb?” Archer asked.

A brief silence crossed the line. Then Colton’s voice, closer now, as if he’d moved to the phone or Knox had passed it to him.

“He’s still dark on all known accounts,” Colton said. “But as long as you’ve got internet access and the power holds, you can pull up the camera feeds for both properties remotely like I am. Just in case we lose signal between us. You can keep an eye on things for peace of mind.”

“It’s already up on my laptop,” Knox said. “On the desk in my office.” He gave a series of numbers. The password maybe? Something familiar enough Archer didn’t need to hear it twice.

He was off the couch and in motion, cell phone in hand. “Give me two minutes,” he said.

I set my bowl aside and followed him down the short hallway.

Knox’s office was a small room, clearly converted from a bedroom. Built-in bookshelves on two walls, an old desk and a rolling chair with a cracked armrest. Archer typed something on the laptop’s keyboard, and the device came to life.

“Tell me when you’re in,” Colton said.

Four camera quadrants blinked onto the screen. Two angles on the cottage, two on Knox’s house.

“Feed’s up,” Archer said.

“Same here,” Colton confirmed. “You can toggle through the cameras at both locations. Cottage looks clear. Back deck, front perimeter, both dark.”

I leaned over Archer’s shoulder and looked at the cottage feed.

Heavy winds and rain battered the images. The boarded windows at the cottage made the place look abandoned and unloved. The dune grass at the edge of the frame was nearly horizontal. Just like here.

I exhaled slowly and straightened up. Everything looked clear.

Then Colton said, “Wait.”

One word, and the air in the room thickened.

“Back deck feed,” he said. “Right quadrant.”

Archer leaned in, toggling one more time.

On the cottage feed, a figure became visible on the deck.

Webb.

I pressed a palm to my stomach as it lurched and roiled.