Page 13 of Tangled Past
Chapter Five
The wind kicked up off the Atlantic, howling across the rocky coastline and slamming into the side of Maya’s cottage with a force that shook the windows. On the porch, the rockers creaked and scraped against the boards.
Inside, Maya curled up in the oversized chair beside the fireplace with a thick blanket wrapped around her shoulders. The coffee in her mug had gone lukewarm.
Snow had started falling around dusk—soft at first, then sharp, like needles carried on the wind. Now it blanketed the beach trail and erased the horizon in a blur of white and gray.
Still, the unease pressed in closer than the storm ever could.
She’d gone outside earlier to take a walk along the shore before the storm rolled in, but she hadn’t made it past the porch. That feeling of someone watching her had returned. Stronger. More persistent. Maya had rushed back inside and bolted the door.
Since then, she’d been huddling in her chair, clenching the mug. “It’s nothing,” she whispered, not quite believing herself. “You’re just on edge.”
She couldn’t shake the feeling. It had stalked her for days now. Weeks, maybe. The sensation of unseen eyes tracing her every step—a presence just beyond reach, coiling in the corners of her awareness.
Maya stood, the blanket slipping off her shoulders to the floor. She crossed to the window. Snow covered everything outside. The dunes, the pine trees, the winding trail leading to the beach. but it wasn’t the snow that made her breath catch in her throat.
A man stood at the edge of the woods, barely visible from her vantage point.
Maya’s fingers went numb. She blinked once. Twice. The figure was still there. Out of sight enough for her not to be able to make out anything other than that he appeared rather tall. Her stomach clenched as a memory surfaced, unbidden. The sound of boots moving closer across a wooden floor. She was hiding behind something, fear threatening to swallow her up.
“No.” She pressed her clenched hand to her head and closed her eyes. When she opened them, the figure was gone.
She stumbled away from the window, nearly dropping the mug. Her hands shook violently.
Asa Dutton’s card sat on her mantel. She’d tucked it away in her coat pocket and found it once she’d returned home that night. There’d been something about him and what he said that kept her from tossing it into the trash.
Asa believed their pasts were connected, but how could she be connected to a past she didn’t remember?
Maya retrieved her cell phone and punched in the numbers before she talked herself out of it. One ring before his voice answered, steady, calm, exactly what she needed.
“Dutton.”
“Asa?” Her voice cracked. “It’s Maya.”
A pause had her rushing on before she lost her nerve and hung up.
“I—I saw someone. I think he’s watching me. Outside my cottage. Near the trees.”
Silence. Then, his voice again. Lower. Firmer. “Are you inside? Doors locked?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Stay there and don’t go near the windows. I’m on my way.” He didn’t ask for her address. She had a feeling he already knew everything about her life here on the island, as sad as it was.
Maya squeezed the phone tight. “Asa, there was something about him. I couldn’t see his face, but still, I think I’ve seen him before.”
“I’ll be there in ten. Dial 9-1-1- if he comes up to the house.”
The call ended, but she didn’t move. She just stood there, the silence pressing harder now that the wind had stilled. Too still. She returned to the front room and tucked Asa’s card into her pocket.
She refused to overlook the warnings or feign security. Instead of fleeing, she was moving directly toward the darkness. And she wasn’t alone.
???
By the time Asa reached Maya’s cottage, driving snow had all but obscured the trail leading to her place.
He cut the engine and stepped out, drawing his sidearm. Snow crunched beneath his boots while he moved up the narrow porch. His eyes scanned the woods first, dense and dark, then along the beach trail where gusts of wind erased every trace of movement almost as soon as it happened.
