Page 41 of Archer

But the vibrant reds and ambers only made me think of Harper’s hair in the sunlight.

So I ran some more.

By the time I made it back to the beach access behind the cottage, fresh footprints were evident in the morning light. I followed them to a spot directly behind her cottage, near the tree line and scrub brush, where they stopped.

I sent photos to Knox and Colton, demanding to know how soon those cameras were being installed.

Someone had stood here watching Harper’s cottage. It was impossible to know how long, but the tread depth on some of the prints indicated it was longer than a moment. The person wasn’t simply turning around to head back.

Knox’s response came while I fumed.

Knox: We’ll be there before lunch

I pocketed my phone and looked at the cottage.

The cameras couldn’t come fast enough. And there was still the problem of the window casings. The old wood had warped so badly from decades of salt air and humidity that the sensor brackets Knox had ordered would never sit flush. They’d lose contact with every shift in the weather, which in Carolina Bay meant losing contact constantly.

Different hardware was a necessity. Something smaller profile with an adjustable mount. The island store wouldn’t have them.

I needed to make a mainland run before Knox arrived.

The back door opened, and Harper appeared in the frame, a mug in both hands, hair loose around her shoulders. She looked at me, then at the beach access, then back at me.

“Morning,” she said.

“Morning.” I crossed the sandy lawn, then the deck toward her. “How’d you sleep?”

“Badly.” She said it without apology.

“Me too.” I held the door while she stepped back inside. “I need to make a run to the mainland before Knox gets here. We’re going to need different brackets for the window sensors to do their job.”

She passed me one mug and adjusted her grip on the second. “When?”

“As soon as we can get moving. Knox and Colton are coming to install the cameras at lunchtime, and I want to be back before they arrive.”

“We?”

I stifled a smile at the small shift of her expression, appreciating the relief cutting through the initial concern. Proud I’d caused it.

Harper had been inside these walls for days on end. Trapped with her grief and terror.

“Give me fifteen minutes,” she said, already heading down the hallway.

Harper

Archer’s truck smelled like warm leather and spearmint with scents of his cologne soaked deep into the fabric. A pack of gum sat in one cupholder. An air freshener shaped like a surfboard hung from the rearview mirror.

“Knox tried teaching me to surf,” he said, catching my gaze as he climbed behind the wheel.

I buckled up with a grin, imagining how that might’ve gone. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. He gave me this the next day and said this was as close as I should go to another surfboard for a while.”

A broad smile stretched across my lips. “That’s not very nice.”

He shifted into reverse, gripping my headrest as he twisted to look over his shoulder. “Well, you weren’t there. I think it might’ve been an act of kindness.”

His lips quirked, then quickly flattened as he faced forward once more. He flicked the air freshener with his thumb and forefinger before moving the shifter into drive.