Page 10 of Is Anyone Listening?
The tide was out, leaving a wide expanse of beach below the bluffs. The sand was wet and dark, scattered with seaweed and shells, and while the cove provided some protection from the wind, the ocean beyond was wild and rugged, and not at all inviting.
As I looked away from the sea, I saw a man by the rocks at the base of the bluff. He was tall and fit, wearing dark jeans and a black jacket. His gaze was turned upward, and he appeared to be studying the cliffs or the inn above us with an intensity that seemed a bit out of place, as if he wasn't just a curious tourist.
He turned suddenly, and our eyes met across thirty feet of beach.
I froze. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.
Then, because standing there staring at him felt ridiculous, I gave a small wave.
He moved toward me.
"Good morning," I said. "I didn't expect to see anyone down here so early."
He studied me before responding, his gaze sharp and assessing. "You're lucky the tide is out. This beach isn't always accessible. This is the first day I've been able to get down here." Pausing, he added, "Are you staying at the inn?"
"Yes. I got in last night."
The words were out before I could think better of them. I didn't know this man. He didn't need to know my business. But something about the directness of his question had pulled a direct answer from me.
"What about you?" I asked.
"No. But I'm close by." He paused, then said, "Aren't you nervous about staying there?"
"What do you mean?"
"Women seem to go missing after staying at the inn."
My mouth went dry. "Women?" I repeated. "Are you talking about Natalie Warren? What do you know about her?"
"I know she disappeared."
"That was after she checked out," I said, repeating the official line I'd read in every article about the case.
"So I've heard." His tone suggested he didn't believe it for a second.
My investigative instincts kicked in, overriding my unease. "Do you think something else happened?"
"I do."
The certainty in his voice made my stomach clench. I stared at him, trying to read his face, understand what game he was playing. "If that's true, have you said anything? Have you spoken to the sheriff?"
"A lot of people have come here asking questions. No one is talking."
"Who are you? Why are you so interested in Natalie Warren's disappearance? Did you know her?"
"I didn't." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Did you? Because her name came right off your lips."
I'd been too eager, too quick to show my hand. "I didn't know her, but I heard about her disappearance."
"What's your name?"
I hesitated. Giving him my name felt like giving him power, but refusing would only make me look more suspicious. "Cassidy. And you?"
"Tyler."
"It doesn't sound like you live here."
"No, I don't."
