had passed it by. He could remember how it had been a thriving little summer tourist town before then, but those days were long gone.
Gareth made his way through an opening in the slatted wooden sand fencing and walked onto the beachfront road. As he felt the soles of his shoes absorb heat from the pavement, he looked up at his house. Its first-floor windows were lit up and friendly …
Almost like somebody lives there.
Although “living” hardly seemed the word for Gareth’s own lonely existence. And thoughts of happier days—when his wife, Kay, was still alive and they were raising their daughter, Cathy—only made him feel more depressed.
As he walked along the sidewalk leading up to his house, Gareth glimpsed something through the screen door—a shadow moving around inside.
Who might that be? he wondered.
He wasn’t surprised that some visitor had let himself in. The front door was standing wide open and the screen door was unlatched. Gareth’s friends were pretty much free to come and go as they liked.
“It’s a free country,” he liked to tell them. “Or so goes the rumor.”
As he climbed the long crooked stairs up to his porch, Gareth figured the visitor might be Amos Crites. Maybe Amos had come over from where he lived on the other side of town to check out his properties along the beach. Gareth knew that nobody had rented either house for August, a notoriously hot and sticky month around here.
Yeah, I’ll bet that’s who it is, Gareth thought as he crossed the porch.
Amos often stopped by like that to bitch and moan about things in general, and Gareth was glad to chime in with grumbling of his own. He supposed maybe he and Amos were a bad influence on each other that way …
But hey, what are friends for?
Gareth stood outside the doorway, shaking some sand off his sandals.
“Hey, Amos,” he called out. “Grab yourself a beer from the fridge.”
He expected Amos to call back …
“Already got it.”
But no reply came. Gareth guessed that maybe Amos was back in the kitchen, just now getting a beer. Or maybe he was just crankier than usual. That was fine with Gareth …
Misery loves company, as they say.
Gareth opened the screen door and walked inside.
“Hey, Amos, what’s up?” he called out.
A flash of movement caught his peripheral vision. He turned and glimpsed a shadowy form silhouetted against the living room lamp.
Whoever it was rushed at Gareth too fast for him to ask any questions.
The figure raised an arm, and Gareth glimpsed a flash of steel. Something unspeakably hard crashed against his forehead, and then an explosion burst through his brain like shattering glass.
Then there was nothing.
CHAPTER ONE
Morning sunlight was glistening on the waves as Samantha Kuehling drove the police car along the waterfront drive.
Sitting next to her in the passenger seat, her partner, Dominic Wolfe, said …
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
Sam didn’t reply.
Neither she nor Dominic yet knew just what “it” really was.
But the truth was, she pretty much believed whatever it was already.
She’d known fourteen-year-old Wyatt Hitt all his life. He could be ornery, just like any boy that age, but he wasn’t a liar. And he’d sounded downright hysterical when he’d called the police station a little while ago. He hadn’t made much sense, but he’d been pretty clear about one thing …
Something happened to Gareth Ogden.
Something bad.
Beyond that, Sam didn’t know a single thing. And Dominic didn’t either.
As she parked the car in front of Gareth’s house, she saw that Wyatt was sitting at the bottom of the stairs that led up to the porch. Beside him was a cloth bag of undelivered newspapers.
When Sam and Dominic got out of the car and walked over to him, the towheaded kid didn’t even look at them. He just kept staring straight ahead. Wyatt’s face was even paler than usual, and he was shivering, even though it was already getting to be a hot morning.
He’s in shock, Sam realized.
Dominic said to him, “Tell us what happened.”
Wyatt sat upright at the sound of Dominic’s voice and looked back at him with glazed eyes. Then Wyatt stammered in a hoarse, frightened voice made worse by the changes of adolescence.
“He—he’s in there, up in the house. Mr. Ogden, I mean.”
Then he stared off toward the Gulf again.
Sam and Dominic looked at each other.
She could tell by Dominic’s alarmed expression that this was starting to get real for him.
Sam shuddered as she thought …
I’ve got a feeling it’s about to get awfully real for both of us.
She and Dominic climbed the steps and walked across the porch. When they looked through the screen door, they saw Gareth Ogden.
Dominic staggered backward from the door.
“Jesus Christ!” he yelped.
Ogden was lying on his back on the floor, his eyes and mouth wide open. He had some kind of open, bleeding wound on his forehead.
Then Dominic wheeled back toward the stairs and yelled down at Wyatt …
“What the hell happened? What did you do?”
Feeling a bit surprised not to share Dominic’s panic, Sam touched his arm and quietly said, “He didn’t do anything, Dom. He’s just a kid. He’s just a paperboy.”
Dominic shook her hand off and stormed back down the stairs. He hauled poor Wyatt to his feet.
“Tell me!” Dominic yelled. “What did you do? Why?”
Sam dashed down the stairs behind Dominic. She grabbed the hysterical cop and forcefully pulled him onto the lawn.
“Leave him alone, Dom,” Sam said. “Let me handle this, OK?”
Dominic’s face looked as pale as Wyatt’s now, and he too was shivering with shock.
He nodded mutely, and Sam walked back over to Wyatt and helped him sit down again.
She crouched in front of him and touched him on the shoulder.
