Chapter 6 Carrie #2
The air outside felt cooler, threaded with the sweet scent of wet hibiscus and the faint, spicy smell of crushed pine.
The path between the two houses glistened.
Fallen palm fronds had scattered across the lawn, but nothing heavy had come down.
The sky was clearing by slow degrees. The sun was trying to find the openings in the cloud bank and painted the puddles a bright orange.
As they walked, Carrie curled her fingers inside her pocket and felt the folded paper again.
The urge to look at it tugged at her. Instead, she curled her hand tighter around it and kept pace with the others.
The sensible voice in her head said that whatever Ian had slipped her could wait a little longer.
The grandmother in her wanted the children under a roof and busy with something sweet and cold. She followed the grandmother.
They reached Matt’s porch, and he unlocked the door. When they stepped inside, the place smelled like cedar and clean laundry. No glass glittered on the floor. No water crept under the threshold. The storm had been loud, but the house had held.
“Look at that,” Matt said, the surprise open in his voice. “Not much damage at all.”
“Thank goodness,” Carrie said as the kids and dogs rushed past her.
Twenty minutes later, they had pulled most of the boards from the windows and checked the house. They had all gathered in the living room when Andy’s phone rang in his pocket.
He answered at once. “Yes.” He listened, nodding. “All right. The police dinghy is here.” He tucked the phone away and looked toward Lori’s house, visible through the tops of the scrub. “I should go get Ian.”
“I’ll go with you,” Carrie said before she had time to weigh the thought. The note in her pocket had grown heavier by the second. “Alisha, do you mind keeping an eye on the kids for a minute?”
“I left my phone at your house,” Alisha said, glancing at Matt. “Can you keep them while I run back and grab it?”
“Of course,” Matt said. He clapped his hands once and put on his best grandfather conspirator face. “Who wants to make milkshakes? We have a lot of melted ice cream that needs rescuing.”
The children exploded with a cheer. The dogs barked as if they understood they were about to be official tasters. Matt herded the little parade toward the kitchen, and Carrie felt the house fill with a different kind of noise. The good kind. The kind that meant life had edged back in.
She stepped outside with Andy and Alisha.
The path gleamed under their feet. As they crossed the yard, a small nagging prickle climbed the back of Carrie’s neck.
She told herself it was only the quick return to Lori’s doorway and the thought of Ian’s grim face at the bottom of the stairs.
She pressed the feeling down and kept walking.
They reached the porch. The front door stood slightly ajar. Carrie lifted her hand to push it open, hesitated for a moment as the creeping feeling intensified. She pushed it aside and nudged the door open, stepping inside. The quiet met her like a wall. Not house-quiet. Empty quiet.
Andy called out, voice firm and clear. “Ian?”
No answer.
A cold line traced Carrie’s spine. She took the stairs two at a time.
At the top, the hallway stretched away, neat and still.
She turned into the main bedroom and stopped.
The bed had been shoved aside just enough to expose a dark rectangle.
Two floorboards lay pried up on the rug like ribs. The space beneath gaped.
Her head snapped toward the door. No sign of Ian. No sign of Trent. The little sound that left her throat surprised her. She spun out into the hall and checked room after room. Nothing. No voices. No movement.
Downstairs, Andy stood in the entry with the same baffled look she felt on her own face.
“Where are they?” she asked, her voice a whisper and a demand at once.
“I don’t know,” he said, meeting her eyes. “They’re not here.”
Carrie’s heart slammed so hard she felt it in her fingers. “Ian took Trent,” she said. The words rushed out with the breath she had not meant to give up. “He’s taken him. It was Ian all this time. He lied to us.”
Alisha came in from the kitchen with her phone in hand. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” She held out a small square of paper. “I found this stuck to my phone.”
Carrie unfolded it. The handwriting was brisk, unadorned, and very familiar—it was Trent’s.
I know you have questions and suspicions. The answer to your question is this. I am the good guy, and yes, I am here early, not because I got off work earlier, but because I was assigned to a task.
“I don’t think it was Ian who took Trent.” Alisha’s voice steadied as she looked at Carrie. “Trent has taken Ian.”
“I don’t understand,” Carrie said. The words felt thin. “What does that mean?”
“It means your son is not who you think he is,” Alisha said. Her eyes were kind, but there was no doubt in them.
END OF BOOK FOUR
Take me to Book 5 of Lost Love Cove!
Lost Love Cove (Sunset Keys Romance Series Book 5)
She came to the cove to escape her past. He came to rebuild his future. Neither expected to find the one thing they’d both given up on—love.
After a near-fatal shooting and a broken heart, sixty-year-old police captain Carrie Ware heads to Florida’s dreamy Sunset Keys to regroup. Swapping homes with her childhood best friend for the summer, she hopes Lost Love Cove will offer the peace her soul desperately needs.
But peace is hard to find next door to Matt Parker.
At sixty-five, Matt is a gruff, grieving widower with a hammer in one hand and a broken past in the other. He's not just rebuilding a house—he’s rebuilding a life. The last thing he expects is to clash with his new neighbor… or feel anything again.
When an unexpected land dispute unearths whispers of fraud, missing heirs, and old betrayals, Carrie’s instincts kick in—and so does her heart.
As the mystery deepens and danger creeps closer, Carrie and Matt must decide if they’re ready to let go of their ghosts and trust the tide that brought them together.
Set against a lush, coastal backdrop where the sea carries secrets and legends promise redemption, Lost Love Cove is an uplifting later-in-life romance with a light twist of mystery and magic.
Fans of heartfelt second chances, seaside legends, and clean, sweet romance with a touch of mystery will fall in love with Sunset Keys. Don’t just read the legend—live it.