“Hey, man. You on your way yet?”
“Had to turn back. Someone was at Grace’s cabin last night.”
“Wasn’t us.” Nick, Conner, and Taylor had driven up to my place to help me set things up last night for my date. “Didn’t see anything out of the ordinary either, but to be honest, I wasn’t really looking.”
I figured that was the case. “She said the cabin’s flooded.”
“Pipes burst from the storm, maybe?”
“Maybe.”
“Damn.” The disappointment in his voice reflects how I feel. “I’ll come take a look as soon as I’m done here.”
“I appreciate it.” I pull up to the cabin and hop out, leaving the truck running with the heat on for Oscar’s sake. My boots pound up the front steps and Grace automatically opens the door. Her eyes are big, cheeks red. She’s been crying.
“Come here.” Dragging her in for a bear hug, I hold her tight. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not okay! Bryson had to have done this.”
Her accusation is the same one echoing in my head, but that’s a big jump to make.
“Show me the boot prints.” Because where I’m standing, I don’t see any.
She leads me around the left side of the porch. And yeah. There they are.
“This is all my fault,” she says, a slight tremble in her tone. “I pissed him off and he retaliated.”
I don’t know what’ll be worse, if this is the only cabin wrecked, which means she was targeted, or if all my cabins have suffered the same fate, and this is just the first one we’ve seen.
One problem at a time.
First, I have to check the other cabins.
“Are you sure they’re not your boots?” I ask.
“Not the same tread. And the ones I wore last week didn’t leave prints. There wasn’t enough snow for that.”
My girl is incredibly observant. And now I’m more obliged to believe we’ve got a sabotage situation, instead of a freak accident.
“I need to check the other cabins.”
Grace stays close as I trek through the snow and enter the next one.
And the one after that.
And the one after that.
“I can’t believe this.” Grace is seething, just like me. “Every. Fucking. Cabin. Ruined.”
It’s like I’ve been told my grandfather is dying all over again. The damage has been done, and I can’t do anything to stop it. Nor do I have the means to fix it.
Life can fuck you so fast. Last night I was on top of the world. Not even twenty-four hours later, I’m about to lose everything.
“How could he have done this?” Grace asks as we make our way back to my truck. “It doesn’t look like he even tried to break in. And how would he make all the pipes bust?”
I have no idea.
The locks weren’t picked. The windows were locked. These cabins were sealed shut and there doesn’t appear to be any damage like I’d expect for a break in. It’s like a ghost came in and wreaked havoc on everything. The ground is covered in two feet of fresh snow. Beyond the porch, any tracks he made are covered.
