Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
When Roy didn’t answer the phone, Lily left a message asking him to call her back. Then she paced the house for two hours, checking her phone far too often. At ten to nine, with still no response from him, she typed out a message explaining the situation.
Staring at the screen, she waited for a notification that he’d read the message, but nothing came. With a low grumble, she went to stand by the front window.
The storm which Vanessa had warned her of had taken hold, and the trees swayed wildly while an onslaught of rain dappled the surface of the water.
The jetty was right there – fifty metres away.
Lamps at intervals along the wooden platform created pools of light which reflected on the water.
If she could see the jetty so clearly, all the other houses could too.
It definitely wasn’t the most inconspicuous place for a meeting.
One scream would have everyone looking outside. Whoever sent the note would know that.
Hastily, she checked her phone again. With no contact from Roy, she grabbed her jacket and pushed her arms into it while she shoved her feet into her boots.
There couldn’t be much harm in taking a quick look.
She wasn’t about to get on a boat at night, but she at least needed to see if anyone was around.
Wind whipped through her hair as soon as she set foot outside. It carried a torrent of rain which pelted her face. Tempting as it was to pull her hood up and dip her head, she resisted. She needed to be alert and aware of her surroundings.
Not a soul was around as she descended the steps to the road, but light spilling from windows gave her comfort that there were people around. It wasn’t as though she was going to some lonely spot in the middle of nowhere. The whole village was right here.
She reached the deserted car park at the marina and paused for a moment, watching the bloated raindrops glow orange under the street light.
The chill that rippled over her had little to do with the cold, and she forced her feet forward until she was standing at the start of the long wooden jetty. The slick wood would have been off-putting even if there wasn’t murky water flowing beneath it.
A shiver of fear hit her, and she whipped around, her mind convincing her that there was someone there.
Every shadow became a hiding spot, and her eyes darted nervously.
“There’s no one there,” she whispered to herself, but the words were ineffective at calming her racing heart.
Her gaze went up to the holiday cottage and then along to the other houses. Throbbing lights from TVs reminded her that there were people close by. Anyone looking out of their window could see her. Why would someone choose this spot if they had sinister intentions?
She was probably right that it was someone who lived on a boat. Inviting her over probably felt normal to them. That’s what she told herself as she took slow steps along the wooden planks. Small boats rocked wildly with the waves, and the strong currents had their tethers stretched taut.
Halfway along the jetty she stopped, telling herself she was being idiotic.
She looked back and had the urge to hurry back to the warmth and safety of Kingfisher Cottage.
Except, if she did that, she may never know what happened to her parents.
This was the only lead she had, and she desperately wanted to follow up on it.
A figure walking up on the road gave her a boost of confidence. If she shouted, she’d be heard.
After a deep inhale, she set off again, striding more certainly this time.
Three strides. That’s how far she made it. Then her sure-footedness became her downfall when the plank gave way beneath her.
Vaguely, she was aware of the sound of wood breaking, but then she dropped so quickly that she didn’t have time to think. The frigid water enveloped her, sucking the air from her lungs and sending her muscles into spasm.
The river tugged at her, taking her along for a ride. Her head hit something – a post from the jetty maybe. Dazed, she kicked her legs and grabbed blindly, desperate to grasp the jetty before the dark water washed her away.
Finally, she surfaced and gulped air.
Something grazed her arm, and she reached, wrapping her fingers around it and gripping tightly. The rope burned her palm as the water tried to take her in its flow.
Her boots were too heavy. If she could take them off, maybe she’d stand a chance, but that wasn’t possible. She had to focus on clinging to the rope. Water roared around her and the sudden rush of a wave filled her mouth and nose with the dirty water.
Her mind conjured an image of the person on the road. All she needed to do was scream, and help would come.
Just scream, her mind told her.
But her throat was choked with muddy water. She couldn’t get any sound out.
All she could think of was Flynn and how angry he was going to be that she’d been so utterly stupid as to wander on the jetty alone and in the dark.
The image of Flynn was momentarily calming.
As her mind started to go fuzzy she swore it was his voice in her head screaming at her not to let go of the rope.