Chapter Eighteen
McKayla
I was starting to understand why people liked haunted houses.
Not because they were scary, but because they let people scream about something fake for a little while instead of the real things eating them alive.
The late evening air smelled like popcorn, grease, lake water, and fog machine smoke while tourists wandered through Skull Island laughing and taking pictures like there wasn’t a murderer somewhere on the property.
Honestly, good for them. Ignorance looked relaxing.
The sun hung low in the sky, throwing orange light through the trees surrounding the haunted house area while the attractions slowly came to life for the night.
Actors in makeup shuffled around the midway, staying mostly in character while groups of people drifted between the entrance to the haunted house and the loading area for the ghost boat tours.
It wasn’t busy yet.
Push had agreed to let me out of the clubhouse only if we came before dark. Apparently me wanting fresh air had turned into a negotiation.
“You can walk around,” he’d said earlier while leaning against the kitchen counter drinking coffee, “but we’re doing it before dark.”
I’d narrowed my eyes at him. “You say that like I’m a gremlin.”
“You get into trouble like one.”
“Rude.”
“True.”
I’d flipped him off.
He’d kissed me five minutes later.
And now here we were walking through the haunted house area hand in hand like we weren’t in the middle of a murder investigation.
Not that my brain had stopped thinking about any of it.
That was the problem. The more I thought, the more tangled everything became.
Push’s hand stayed wrapped around mine while we walked slowly past the game booths and food stands. His thumb brushed lazily over my knuckles every few seconds like he did it without thinking.
Pearl walked beside me wearing oversized sunglasses even though the sun was almost gone, while Piney trailed behind us eating popcorn from a giant paper bag like it was his full-time job. Actually, maybe it was.
Pearl glanced over her shoulder at him. “How are you eating that?”
Piney blinked at her. “Eating what?”
“The popcorn.”
He grabbed another handful and tossed it into his mouth. “Like this.”
Pearl rolled her eyes. “I mean how can you stand smelling it all the time? The smell wafts over to the clubhouse every night. I don’t think I could stomach one kernel anymore.”
Piney shrugged. “Same way I eat two hot dogs and a nacho from the concession stand every night. It’s good.”
Push barked out a laugh beside me. “Damn, brother. It’s amazing you haven’t put on pounds.”
Piney looked down at himself thoughtfully. “Maybe all the walking balances it out.”
“You don’t walk,” Pearl said immediately.
“I walk emotionally.”
“That doesn’t even make sense,” I laughed.
Piney pointed at me with a butter-covered finger. “It does in my mind.”
Push squeezed my hand lightly. “Don’t encourage him.”
Too late. Piney already looked pleased with himself.
I glanced around while we walked farther into the haunted house area. Employees moved around resetting props and checking lines while tourists wandered toward the attractions. Everything looked organized chaos.
“How do you guys do all of this?” I asked.
Push shrugged slightly. “There are twelve of us, baby, and we also have a full staff.”
“And Ron,” Piney added around another mouthful of popcorn.
Pearl looked over. “Ron?”
Something about the way she asked it caught my attention.
“Who’s Ron?” I asked.
Push motioned vaguely toward the attractions around us. “He handles all the ordering and shit. All the behind-the-scenes stuff for the haunted house and ghost boat.”
“Basically the reason this place doesn’t completely fall apart,” Piney added. “No one really sees him, though. Anchor is the guy in charge, but Ron is his hands.”
“Is he a member of the club?” I asked.
Push shook his head. “Nope. Just deals with the haunted house and ghost boat tours.”
That surprised me a little.
I hadn’t really thought much about the people working around the island beyond the club members themselves. The employees blended into the background so easily that I’d barely noticed them.
Tour guides. Concession workers. Actors. Maintenance people. Just pieces of the scenery.
“Erin!”
I froze. The name hit me like someone throwing ice water over my head. My eyes snapped around the crowded midway immediately.
What?
Where?
Was she here?
My pulse started pounding.
“Hey!”
A woman near one of the game booths waved toward us while weaving through a small group of tourists.
Push instantly moved half in front of me. Protective.
The woman stepped closer, looking confused. “Erin?”
I pointed at myself. “Are you talking to me?”
The woman stared at me like I’d lost my damn mind. “Of course I’m talking to you.”
Push shifted slightly closer.
The woman finally noticed him fully and wrinkled her brow. “You’re new.”
That almost made me laugh because technically he wasn’t new.
“I’m not Erin,” I said quickly. “Erin is my sister.”
The woman blinked hard and really looked at me. Then her eyes widened. “Wow,” she said slowly. “Sorry. You guys look alike.”
My stomach twisted.
That wasn’t the first time someone had said that, but hearing it here on the island felt different.
Personal.
“How do you know Erin?” Push asked.
The woman looked immediately nervous. Not guilty nervous, more like intimidated nervous. Push had that effect on people sometimes.
The woman looked between me and Push carefully before answering. “She worked here,” she said slowly. “With me. Over in the ghost town.”
Everything inside me locked up.
“What?” I asked sharply.
The girl blinked. “Erin. She worked a couple shifts with us. Ron hired her maybe… five weeks ago?” She looked confused now. “You seriously don’t know that? She broke up with her boyfriend and told me she needed to get some money so she could get out of here.”
Push went completely still beside me.
Pearl lowered her sunglasses slowly. “She worked here?”
“Yeah,” the woman said cautiously. “Ron hired her, though she only worked about a week before she just stopped coming.”
Behind us, Piney stopped eating popcorn.
Actually stopped.
The bag lowered slowly, and that was how I knew this was bad.
Push’s voice stayed calm, but I could feel the tension pouring off him beside me. “You know her boyfriend?”
The woman shook her head quickly. “Uh, no. She didn’t really talk about him either.”
She looked back at me carefully. “Why does it feel like you don’t know any of this about your sister?”
I laughed once, flat and humorless. “Because I don’t.” That felt horrible to admit out loud. “I haven’t talked to Erin in close to two months,” I said quietly. “Last I knew, she was coming to the island with her boyfriend for a date, but that’s it. Nothing about them breaking up, or working here.”
The woman frowned. “Well, I can tell you it’s been a little over a month since I saw her.” She shifted awkwardly. “She quit, and then I found a better job a couple weeks ago.” Her eyes flicked toward Push apologetically. “Sorry, but you guys don’t pay the greatest.”
Push shrugged easily. “I’ll pass that along.”
Piney finally recovered enough to shove another handful of popcorn into his mouth like stress eating was part of his emotional support system.
My brain was spinning too fast. Erin worked here.
Worked here.
How had nobody known that?
Push looked down at me briefly, clearly gauging whether I was about to spiral.
Fair concern, because my thoughts were racing so hard I could barely hold onto one long enough to process it.
“She stayed in the ghost town area mostly,” the woman added. “She was nice. Quiet though. Kinda seemed sad.”
That hit me harder than I expected.
Erin always got quiet when she was hurting.
As kids, I used to think silence meant she was okay because she stopped fighting. Later I learned silence usually meant the opposite.
“What was your name?” I asked quickly.
“Jenna.”
I pulled my phone out immediately. “Can I get your number?”
She hesitated slightly before nodding.
While we exchanged numbers, Push stayed beside me, scanning the area automatically while Pearl and Piney hovered nearby.
Protective biker perimeter intact.
I typed quickly before looking back up at Jenna. “If you remember anything else about Erin, literally anything, call me.”
Jenna nodded. “Yeah. Of course.” Then she looked uncomfortable again. “I hope you find her,” she said quietly.
My throat tightened unexpectedly. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Me too.”
Jenna gave us one last awkward look before wandering back toward the game booths.
The second she disappeared into the crowd, silence settled around us.
Piney finally popped more popcorn into his mouth and muttered, “Shit just keeps getting weirder and weirder.”
“No kidding,” Pearl murmured.
I stared out toward the ghost town area while my thoughts spun violently.
Erin had worked here for at least a week, and nobody in the club had known.
Push looked down at me carefully. “You okay?”
“No,” I admitted honestly. Because how the hell was I supposed to be okay?
Every clue about Erin made things worse instead of better.
“She worked here,” I whispered mostly to myself. I sighed hard and rubbed my forehead with my free hand.
Pearl stepped closer beside me. “At least now we know she was definitely here.”
That was true. It was the first solid confirmation we’d gotten that Erin hadn’t just visited the island.
She’d worked here.
Push looked toward the haunted house buildings thoughtfully. “We need to talk to Ron.”
Piney nodded immediately. “Yeah. Like now.”
“Not out here,” Push said.
I agreed.
The middle of the haunted house midway wasn’t exactly the best place for serious murder conversations.
Especially now that tourists were starting to fill the pathways more heavily as darkness settled over the island.
A chainsaw roared somewhere nearby and made a little kid scream dramatically.
Piney glanced toward it. “See? Chainsaws are effective.”
Pearl rolled her eyes. “You’re impossible.”
He grinned proudly.
I leaned slightly into Push without meaning to.
The movement was automatic now. Something steady while my world kept getting stranger.
Push looked down at me immediately, his expression softening just slightly around the edges in a way nobody else probably noticed, but I did.
“We’ll figure this out,” he said quietly.
I wanted to believe him. God, I wanted to, because for the first time since arriving on Skull Island, it felt like we’d stopped chasing shadows and finally found an actual thread.
Now we just had to pull it. And somehow, I had a feeling everything was about to unravel.