Page 80 of Property of Anchor
Just a regular moment, one Bernice hadn’t known someone else was watching.
Anchor’s voice was quiet but lethal.“They’re not just playing games anymore.They’re getting braver.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Anchor
“What are you going to tell her?”Pearl asked as we rounded the bend toward Bernice’s cabin.
I didn’t have a damn clue.
Right now, I just wanted to make sure she was still breathing.
“Something,” I muttered.“I should’ve told her she couldn’t stay on the island anymore.This wouldn’t be happening if I had.”
Pearl shook her head, her brows tight.“How were you supposed to know this was going to happen, Anchor?That photo was taken yesterday.Whoever’s behind this is planning everything.If she was off the island, it’d probably be even harder to get to her.”
I growled low in my throat.She was right, but that didn’t make it sit any easier.
I took the porch steps in two bounds and pounded my fist against the door.No answer.
“Bernice!”I barked, banging on the door again.
A shuffle.Something thumped inside.
“What in the world?!”Bernice hollered, her voice muffled through the wood.A second later, the door creaked open like the gates of hell, and she stood there blinking at us like we’d risen her from the dead.
“What in the h-e-double hockey sticks are you doing pounding on my door at this hour?”she snapped, squinting at me.“Can’t a woman take a damn day off without the cavalry showing up?”
She looked like she’d rolled out of bed and survived the apocalypse.Her light blue muumuu was decorated with cartoon cows wearing sunglasses.Yellow terry cloth slippers hung half on, half off her feet.Her gray hair stuck out in every direction like she’d spent the night fighting ghosts in her dreams—and losing.
“Bernice,” Pearl breathed, relief flooding her face.
“Pearl,” Bernice replied flatly, as if they weren’t standing there like the end of the world was knocking.Her gaze flicked to me.“Biker boy.We good now?”
I couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped.Bernice had a way of knocking the edge off a panic attack.“We’re good,” I said.“We were just checking on you and wondered if you wanted to come to the clubhouse for breakfast?”
There was no breakfast.Not yet.But we’d slap together some eggs and pretend if that got her out of this damn cabin and somewhere we could keep eyes on her.
“No,” Bernice grunted.She started to shut the door in our faces.
I threw my hand out and caught it.
She narrowed her eyes like a sniper lining up a shot.“Careful now, biker boy.You slam a hand in my door, and I ain’t paying your medical bills.”Her eyes flicked to Pearl, then back to me.“You two look like a pair of raccoons caught in the garbage.What’s going on?”
I held up both hands in surrender.“Nothing’s going on.If you need anything, just let me know.”
She narrowed her eyes at me like she didn’t believe a damn word I said.“Hmph.”
Then, without another word, she slammed the door in our faces.
Pearl and I just stood there for a second, staring at the freshly closed door.
“Breakfast at the clubhouse?”Pearl whispered.
I let out a low chuckle and rubbed the back of my neck.“I panicked.It was the first thing that came to mind.You didn’t really help me out.”
She sighed dramatically.“I haven’t even had breakfast in the clubhouse, but you just asked Bernice to breakfast.”
