Chapter 4
A Lantern in the Woods
The silence in the wake of the clicking door was more terrifying than the sound itself. Elara stood frozen in the study, the photograph of Liam’s ancestor lying face-up on the floor like an accusation. Every nerve ending was on fire. Someone was in the house.
She snatched the walkie-talkie from her belt, her thumb pressing the call button. “Liam? Liam, are you there?” Her voice was a strained whisper.
Static hissed back, a hollow, mocking sound. She tried again. Nothing. The storm, or something else, was blocking the signal.
The writer was gone. The proof was in a locked box. And the man who had kindly cut the chain and lit her fire was connected to it all.
She had to get out. Now.
Abandoning her suitcase and most of her groceries, she grabbed only her purse, the journal, and the metal box, shoving them into her oversized bag.
The heavy iron poker stayed in her hand, a meager weapon against the unknown.
She crept down the staircase, every sense screaming, expecting a hand to grab her from the shadows.
The great room was empty, the fire now a heap of glowing embers. She slid the heavy bolt on the front door and slipped out into the blizzard.
The wind immediately stole her breath, whipping stinging snow into her face. The world had been erased, reduced to a swirling, white chaos. Her Bentley was already a ghostly shape under a thick blanket of snow. It was useless. She’d never get it down the unplowed drive.
Half a mile through the woods. Liam’s words echoed in her mind. His place was her only chance. But could she trust him?
A flicker of light through the trees answered her. Not from the direction of his house, but from deeper in the forest. A single, swinging lantern, just like the journal had described.
Fear clamped around her throat. They were out here. Watching.
Driven by a desperate instinct, she plunged into the woods, away from the lantern, away from the road. The snow was knee-deep, sucking at her boots. Branches clawed at her coat and hair. She ran blindly, the poker held out before her like a blind woman’s cane, the bag banging against her hip.
She didn't know how long she stumbled through the whiteout, her lungs burning, her body numb with cold and fear. Just as her legs began to buckle, she saw it—a darker shape in the relentless white. A small, sturdy log cabin, smoke curling from its stone chimney.
Liam’s place.
She staggered onto the porch, collapsing against the door and pounding on it with the last of her strength. “Liam! It’s Elara! Please!”
The door swung open instantly. Liam stood there, his face a mask of shock. He pulled her inside, out of the storm, his hands firm on her shaking shoulders.
“Elara? What happened? You’re frozen.” His gaze dropped to the iron poker still clutched in her white-knuckled hand, then to the bag slung over her shoulder. “What did you do?”
She was shivering uncontrollably, tears of relief and terror mixing with the melting snow on her face.
“There was someone in the house. I heard them. I found… I found his journal.” She fumbled in her bag and thrust the metal box at him.
“And this. From a hidden compartment. Your ring… the photograph…”
Liam’s expression hardened as he looked at the box. He didn't deny it. He took it from her, his jaw tight. “You shouldn’t have gone up there.”
“Who vanished, Liam?” she demanded, her voice trembling. “The writer? Or did you make him vanish?”
He was silent for a long moment, his blue eyes stormy. Then he let out a heavy sigh, the weight of generations in the sound.
“His name was Alex Price,” Liam said, his voice low. “And he didn’t vanish. He’s buried in an unmarked grave out behind the old Holt cemetery.” He held up the box. “And what’s in here isn’t proof of a crime he discovered. It’s the reason he was killed.”
He looked at her, his gaze filled with a terrible, grim resolve.
“My family didn’t kill him, Elara. We’re trying to protect the secret that got him killed. And now, because you couldn’t leave it alone, they know you’ve found it too.” He glanced toward the window, into the blinding storm. “They’re out there. And they won’t let you leave this mountain alive.”