Chapter 5
LORI
The days began to blur together in the most wonderful way.
Lori woke each morning to sunlight streaming through the bedroom windows and Misty’s cold nose pressed against her hand.
They’d walk the beach before the day grew too warm, Misty racing ahead to chase seabirds while Lori collected shells and sea glass, filling her pockets with small treasures.
After breakfast, she’d set up in the sunroom or on the porch with her paints and paper.
Depending on the time of day, the light in both spots was perfect.
She worked on a series of seascapes, trying to capture the particular quality of Pelican Bay.
The way the water changed color throughout the day.
The rocks that jutted from the surf like ancient sentinels.
The curve of the beach as it disappeared around the point.
It felt good to paint again. Really paint, not just go through the motions. For the first time in two years, she felt inspired rather than obligated.
Afternoons found her in the bay window reading nook, working through Martha’s impressive book collection as she had already finished the two novels she’d bought in town a few days ago.
Lori had discovered that Martha had made notes in the margins of many books, observations and reactions written in careful script.
Reading them felt like having a conversation with a woman she’d never met but was coming to know.
She smiled as she read the one note: This passage made me think of Robert, one note read in the margin of a love poem. How he used to look at me across the breakfast table, like I was the only thing that mattered.
Lori traced the words with her finger, feeling the indent the pen had left in the paper.
Martha had been a widow, too. She had lived in this cottage alone for decades after her husband died.
Had she felt this same strange mix of peace and loneliness?
This sense of being suspended between one life and the next?
As she read the text again, Lori touched her wedding ring, turning it absently on her finger.
Trevor had been her best friend. Her once-in-a-lifetime love, and to her surprise, an image of Mitch flooded her mind.
She tried to shake it off, but her mind went back to when they had come over to introduce themselves.
After the walk on the beach, she’d seen that he’d noticed the fresh tire tracks, and what stood out to her about that was the way he’d observed them.
Lori had known Carrie for a very long time, and Carrie did that exact same thing.
Observed something she thought was off in a way that most people wouldn’t notice.
He had said he was in intelligence before he retired and had worked for the government. A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. Misty jumped up and trotted to the entrance, tail wagging excitedly. Lori followed and opened it to find Piper standing on the porch with a bright smile.
“Hi, Lori,” the girl said. “Is it okay if I take Misty for a walk? I know I was just here yesterday, but I missed her.”
“Of course,” Lori said, stepping aside. “Come in. I’ll get her leash.”
Piper crouched down to greet Misty properly, the two of them engaged in their usual reunion ritual despite having seen each other less than twenty-four hours ago.
“I saw you going out early this morning,” Lori observed, retrieving the leash from its hook by the door.
“I go to summer camp each morning,” Piper explained. “I’ve actually just got home and thought I’d come and take Misty for a walk.”
“And I know Misty really appreciates it,” Lori said, handing Piper the leash.
“Do you want to come for a walk with us?” Piper asked.
“I was just about to start baking,” Lori told her. “How about I join you tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Piper said. “What are you baking?”
“I thought I’d bake some apple pies,” Lori answered.
“Oh, yum,” Piper said, her eyes lighting up.
“I’ll be sure to bake one for you and your grandpa,” Lori promised.
Her smile widened. “Thank you.” She hooked Misty’s lead on. “I won’t be too long.”
“Take your time.” Lori watched as Piper and Misty started down the stairs. “Be careful.”
“We will,” Piper called over her shoulder and waved.
Lori watched them go down the path toward the beach.
She was heading back to her reading nook to get her coffee mug and go start baking pies when another knock sounded at the door.
For a moment, she thought Piper had forgotten something, but when she opened it, she found a different woman standing on the porch.
The woman was tall, elegant, and perfectly put together, even in casual summer clothes. She held a gift basket, which Lori could see through the plastic had wine, cheese, bread, and grapes.
“Hello,” the woman said. “I’m Sally Lane. I don’t actually live in the neighborhood, but I’m a good friend of Mitch’s, and he mentioned you were here for the summer, so I thought I’d stop by and welcome you to Nantucket.”
“Thank you, how thoughtful,” Lori said, taking the gift basket. Not missing the emphasis the woman had put on the word ‘friend’ when she’d mentioned Mitch’s name. The woman was marking her territory. Something squeezed in her chest, but she ignored it. “Would you like to come in?”
“Just for a moment. I don’t want to impose.” Sally stepped inside, her gaze sweeping the room with barely concealed assessment.
“Please, sit. Can I get you anything?” Lori put the gift basket on the entry table and followed Sally into the living room, where she perched herself on a chair. “Iced tea? Coffee?”
“Iced tea would be lovely,” Sally said.
Lori retreated to the kitchen, her instincts prickling. Something about Sally felt calculated. Rehearsed. She poured two glasses of iced tea and returned to find Sally had stood and was examining the bookshelves.
“Martha had wonderful taste,” Sally said, accepting her glass. “Mitch told me that Carrie preserved the house. That was such a nice thing to do, as this place is so cozy.”
“It is,” Lori agreed, settling into the chair across from the one Sally sat on again.
“I believe you’re staying here for the whole summer?” Sally asked, and Lori felt as if she were being interrogated and assessed.
“Yes, I am,” Lori replied, taking a sip of iced tea and wondering what this visit was really about. Checking out a perceived enemy? A thought flickered across her mind. Did this woman hire the man in the windbreaker? Lori shook the thought off as absurd.
“I believe Carrie is staying at your house in Florida?” Sally questioned.
“She is,” Lori confirmed.
“What a quaint idea, a holiday house swap,” Sally stated. “It was such a shock hearing the news that Carrie had been shot. The entire island seemed to hold its breath as we waited to hear news of how she was on that terrible, terrible day.”
There was something in the way she said it. A judgment. An implication.
“I think she’s found a good balance,” Lori said evenly.
“Perhaps.” Sally set down her glass. “I understand you’ve met Mitch and Piper. They’re wonderful neighbors, aren’t they?”
“They’ve been very welcoming. Piper is actually walking Misty at the moment,” Lori told her.
“Piper’s a sweet girl. Mitch has done remarkably well with her, considering.
” Sally paused, like she was choosing her words carefully.
“He’s very private, you know. Mitch likes to keep to himself.
Some people find that mysterious, but I think it’s just his nature. He’s not the type to open up easily.”
Lori heard the subtext. The territorial marking. The subtle warning that Mitch was complicated, unavailable, or perhaps already spoken for in some way.
“He seems like a good man,” Lori said neutrally.
“Oh, he is. Very good.” Sally’s smile turned brittle. “We dated for a while, actually. A few years ago. It didn’t work out, but we’ve remained really good friends. I think we might try again eventually, when the timing is right.”
There it was. The claim. The line being drawn.
Lori kept her expression pleasant and took a sip of her tea. She had no intention of competing for anyone’s attention, but she also wasn’t going to be intimidated in Carrie’s home by a woman she’d just met.
“That’s nice,” she said and looked at her wristwatch.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to rush you, but I have some work to do.
” It was a white lie, but Lori had had enough of this woman, who had clearly come here not to welcome her but to suss her out to decide if she was a threat to Sally’s plan to get back with Mitch.
Sally smiled and started to stand. “Of course.” She smiled. “I just appeared on your doorstep after all.”
“It was kind of you to come and welcome me,” Lori said, trying to keep her smile from looking too stiff or false.
“It was nice meeting you, Lori,” Sally said before leaving.
“Well, that was interesting,” Lori said to the empty room as she watched Sally climb into her car and drive away.
The cottage settled around her with a soft creak, and Lori could have sworn she caught a whiff of lavender. Martha’s scent.
“I know,” she said to the air. “She was marking her territory. Message received.”
It wasn’t long before Piper returned with Misty, the dog tired and happy from their beach adventure. Lori made herself a simple dinner, then settled in to watch the sunset from the porch.
As darkness fell, she locked up the cottage and headed upstairs. The nightly routine had become familiar. Brush teeth, wash face, change into pajamas, and settle into the comfortable bed with a book.
But tonight, she couldn’t focus on the words. Her mind kept circling back to Sally’s visit. The subtle warnings. The territorial behavior over a man Lori had barely gotten to know.
She set the book aside and turned off the light, listening to the ocean’s endless murmur. Misty was already asleep on her bed in the corner, occasionally twitching in dreams.
Lori was drifting toward sleep when Misty suddenly stood up. The shepherd moved to the bedroom door and began pacing, her nails clicking on the hardwood. A soft whine escaped her throat.
“Misty?” Lori sat up. “What is it, girl?”
The dog continued pacing, back and forth in front of the door. Whine, pace, whine. Her ears were forward, focused on something Lori couldn’t see or hear.
Lori threw back the covers and went to the door, opening it carefully. The hallway stretched dark and empty before her. She flipped on the light. Nothing. Just the familiar corridor with its creaking floorboards and Martha’s watercolors on the walls.
“There’s nothing there,” she told Misty gently. “Come on, back to bed.”
But Misty wouldn’t settle. She paced to the window now, standing on her hind legs to look out, still whining low in her throat.
Lori joined her at the window and peered out into the darkness. The ocean was barely visible, just the faint line where water met sky. The beach path below was shrouded in shadow. Nothing moved. Nothing seemed wrong.
“Just the wind,” Lori murmured, stroking Misty’s head. “Or maybe Martha, checking on us. It’s okay, girl.”
Eventually, Misty settled back onto her bed with a soft huff. Lori returned to her own bed, but it took a long time to fall asleep. She kept listening for whatever had disturbed the dog, but the cottage remained quiet.
Sleep finally claimed her in the deepest hours of the night.
She woke to Misty standing at the window again. But this time, the shepherd wasn’t whining. She was growling. Low and steady, a sound Lori had never heard from her before.
Lori’s heart kicked into overdrive. She slipped out of bed and moved to the window, keeping to the side so she wouldn’t be visible from outside.
Misty’s growl continued, focused and intent.
Lori looked out at the darkness. The moon had set, leaving everything in deep shadow. She couldn’t see anything unusual. Just the familiar landscape rendered in shades of black and gray.
“What is it?” she whispered to Misty. “What do you see?”
The dog’s growl faded after another minute, and she stepped back from the window, tail still low. Lori stayed there longer, searching the darkness for whatever had alarmed Misty.
Nothing.
She went back to bed, but sleep was impossible now. She lay awake, listening, until the first hints of dawn began to lighten the sky.
As soon as it was light enough, she threw on shorts and a t-shirt and headed downstairs with Misty. The shepherd went immediately to the back door, and Lori let her out into the small yard.
She made coffee while Misty did her morning rounds, then took her mug out onto the porch. The sunrise was spectacular, painting the sky in shades of pink and gold. The kind of morning that should have felt peaceful.
But Lori couldn’t shake the unease from the night before. Misty’s unusual behavior. The growling. The sense that something had been wrong, even though she’d seen nothing.
She walked down the porch steps and around to the side of the cottage, following the path that led beneath her bedroom window. Misty trotted beside her, nose to the ground, reading the night’s stories written in scent.
Lori stopped beneath her window and looked around. Everything seemed normal. The beach roses were growing wild. The sandy path was worn smooth by years of footsteps. The rocky slope leading down to the beach.
Then she saw it.
A cigarette butt, lying on the path directly below her window. The filter was still white, not weathered or dirty. Fresh.
Lori crouched down, her coffee forgotten in her hand. She didn’t touch it, just stared at it. Someone had stood here. Right here, beneath her window. Had stood here smoking while she slept above.
How long had they been here? What had they been doing?
Watching!
The word came unbidden, undeniable. Someone had been watching the cottage. Watching her window.
Lori straightened on legs that weren’t quite steady. She looked around the yard, at the trees and bushes, at the empty beach beyond. Everything seemed so peaceful in the morning light. So normal.
But someone had been here in the dark. Standing beneath her window. They’d smoked a cigarette while they watched her house.
Misty had known. Had sensed the intruder and tried to warn her.
Lori went back inside and locked the door behind her, her hands shaking slightly as she set down her coffee mug. She should tell someone. Carrie. The police. Someone.
But tell them what? That she’d found a cigarette butt? That her dog had been restless in the night?
It sounded paranoid even in her own head. And maybe it was nothing. Maybe someone had been walking the beach late and stopped to smoke. Maybe it was a teenager sneaking out. Maybe there was a perfectly innocent explanation.
But she didn’t believe that.
Someone had been watching her cottage in the night.
And they’d been close enough to see into her window.