Chapter 21
Chapter Twenty-One
Prime
It was just a random Thursday with enough tourists and teens to keep the island alive. At least one thing was going right.
The island was making money again.
Push and Post were running the crowd-control path outside the haunted house. Anchor was in the surveillance room, watching feeds like a hawk, and Skull was overseeing the boat tours. Vin and Wannabe were doing rotations between the docks and the haunted house.
Cross was still at the hospital with Bob. There had been no change in him, but Cross told us that the doctor said that was good. He seemed to be healing even though he was sedated, and that was what Bob needed. Hopefully, he would be back with the club soon.
And me?
I was with Shay and Pearl inside the clubhouse.
Lost and Piney were stationed near the doors.
We were covered.
We had to be.
Shay was curled up on the couch with a blanket over her legs and flipped through one of Bernice’s old sketchbooks. Pearl sat beside her with her feet tucked under her and sorted through a pile of receipts like they were a fascinating book.
“Did you know Bernice saved a receipt for almond milk from 1998?” Pearl muttered and squinted at the receipt. “There’s no reason for almond milk to cost that much.”
Shay laughed. “Maybe she liked it.”
“No one likes almond milk,” Pearl said and made a face. “It tastes like wet cardboard.”
“You two drink Sex on the Beaches,” I pointed out and leaned against the wall. “You probably killed all your taste buds.”
Pearl raised a finger. “That is a delicacy your ol’ lady introduced me to. Don’t knock it.”
Shay elbowed her lightly. “I don’t know if I would call them a delicacy.”
“But they are delicious. Almost as good as an Old Fashioned.” Pearl reached for a tortilla chip that had been sitting in a bowl since yesterday. “Ugh. Stale.”
Lost’s voice cut through the moment.
“Prime,” he called from near the door. “Push just called and says someone’s coming up the path toward the clubhouse. He’s following them.”
My whole body went rigid. “Who?”
“No idea,” Lost said. “Alone. Not a tourist. Not one of ours.”
Pearl cursed. “Shit.”
Shay pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “Is it him?”
“No,” Lost said immediately. “Woman.”
I exchanged a long look with Pearl.
And then with Shay.
There weren’t many women who came to Skull Island alone.
None who walked toward the clubhouse like they knew exactly where they were going.
My phone rang, and I was surprised to see Anchor’s name.
I connected the call and put it to my ear.
“I know. I’m coming.” His voice echoed from the hallway just as he entered the room, phone in hand.
“I saw. Camera picked her up near the bend.” He tucked his phone into his pocket.
“Let’s go see who the hell this chick is. ”
By the time we got outside, Push was already talking to the woman.
She was tall with sharp eyes and black hair pulled back in a messy bun, but still somehow intentional.
She wore black jeans, a dark leather jacket, and boots meant for walking through trouble.
She also had a backpack slung over one shoulder like she could run a marathon with it.
She wasn’t scared, not even a little.
Push stood in front of her with his arms crossed and jaw clenched so tight it could cut steel.
“I told you last time you weren’t allowed past the haunted house,” Push growled.
The woman lifted an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Yeah, and I ignored you. See how that worked?”
Anchor pushed the door open, and all four of us stepped outside.
Lost stayed behind us just inside the doorway, blocking Shay and Pearl from view.
Push took a full step toward her. “I’m not playing this game.”
“I am,” she said sweetly. “And I know you’re not the one I want to talk to.
” She looked at each of our nametags and smiled when her eyes spotted Anchor’s.
“He’s the one I want to talk to.” She stepped toward the porch and smirked up at Anchor.
“President of the Kings of Anarchy Michigan chapter. Just the man I wanted to talk to. Name’s McKayla Day. ”
Anchor didn’t smile. “Just past the haunted house, private property.”
“So I’ve been told,” she said with a glare at Push. “Repeatedly. Loudly.”
Push scowled. “And yet here you are.”
“Here I am,” she agreed.
I stepped forward. “What do you want?”
Her gaze landed on me, sharp and assessing. She reached into her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. She held it out to us, and Vin grabbed it. He showed it to us, and it was a missing person flyer with a picture of a pretty blonde woman. “Answers.”
“Answers to what?” Anchor asked.
“My sister,” she said plainly. “She came here about a month ago. Texted me that she and her boyfriend were heading to Skull Island. Haunted house date night.” She lifted a shoulder. “And then nothing. No call. No text. No credit card transactions. No more sister.”
Through the screen door behind us, Pearl gasped audibly, and Shay sucked in a breath.
McKayla’s eyes zeroed in on the movement.
Busted.
Her tone changed, barely. “More of you inside. I think I might be outnumbered without knowing who you are hiding.”
Anchor stepped half an inch in front of me. “Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” she asked coolly. “Notice that the two women in your club are practically hiding behind you? Notice the way every man on this island tenses when I mention missing women? Notice that you’ve ramped up security without publicly announcing a reason?
” Her chin lifted. “I’m a PI, not an idiot. ”
Push cursed under his breath.
“Walk away,” Anchor said. Calm. Deadly. “Your sister isn’t here. Your fight is not here.”
“It is,” she said, her voice steady as stone. “Because my sister didn’t vanish. Someone took her. Someone on this island, or someone connected to it.”
“No one in this club hurts women,” Push snapped.
McKayla blinked. Once.
Then her gaze softened almost imperceptibly.
“I know,” she said quietly.
Push froze. Just a second. Just long enough for me to catch it.
McKayla continued, “If I thought one of you did it, I wouldn’t be standing here without backup. But women have disappeared around this area. Mine wasn’t the only one. A few years apart. All around the lake. All last seen near Skull Crossing.”
Anchor’s jaw ticked. We didn’t know anything about that. We only knew about the four bodies we had found.
“I can see you did a little digging, but your next hole to dig isn’t here,” he said. “Like I said, walk away.”
“I will,” she replied, “when I’m done. All you guys need to do is answer a few questions and let me see some of your surveillance footage from the night she said she was going to be here. That is all that I want.”
“We don’t have the answers you want, and no one outside of the club looks at our surveillance,” I said.
“But I think you’re wrong.” She stepped toward the porch until her toes hit the bottom step. “I just want to see if she was even here. I’m at a dead end until I confirm she was here.”
Anchor shook his head. “No.”
“But I—” She started, but Push stepped toward her. She glared at him.
“Get her out of here, Push,” Anchor ordered.
“With pleasure.” He swiftly planted a shoulder in her stomach before she could react, and he hoisted her over his shoulder. She kicked and cussed him out, but she was no match for Push.
“A piece of advice for you, McKayla,” Anchor called. “Your sister isn’t here, and I wouldn’t step foot on Skull Island again if I were you.”
“This isn’t over,” McKayla spat as she pounded her fists on Push’s back.
“Yeah, it is,” Anchor replied, final.
Push didn’t wait for another word. He turned and started down the path toward the haunted house with McKayla slung over his shoulder like a screaming, pissed-off sack of flour. Her hair swung wildly with each step, her fists beat on his back, and her voice echoed through the trees.
“Put me down, you asshole!”
Push didn’t even flinch. “Keep squirming, and you’re gonna make me drop you on purpose,” he said, completely unfazed, and walked like he was carrying nothing more than a throw pillow.
McKayla responded with another string of curses that would’ve made most men put her down. Push just snorted and kept moving. That man was a damn brick wall, and angry woman or not, he wasn’t breaking a sweat.
They disappeared around the bend in the trail, and her furious yelling cut off slowly as the sights and sounds of the haunted house swallowed them.
The porch door creaked behind us, and Pearl and Shay stepped out. Pearl folded her arms against her chest, her jaw tight, her eyes tracking the direction McKayla had gone like she was watching a storm roll in.
“What if her sister is one of the bodies the killer left?” Pearl asked.
Anchor’s gaze flicked toward her. “We don’t know if she is,” he said, voice firm but not unkind, “but we’re not going to let McKayla be the one to figure that out.”
He turned to Vin. “She said her sister disappeared about a month ago. See if you can find anything on the cameras. Search every face. If we can confirm she wasn’t here, then we don’t have anything to worry about.”
“And what if I find her?” Vin asked.
Anchor exhaled hard, rubbing the back of his neck. “Then we just added another fucking problem to our growing list.”