BooksBarbecue
Back The Lying House Save as PDF
Chapters (103)
  1. Cover
  2. Back Cover Text
  3. Praise
  4. Booklist
  5. Dedication
  6. Epigraph
  7. 1
  8. 2
  9. 3
  10. 4
  11. 5
  12. 6
  13. 7
  14. 8
  15. 9
  16. 10
  17. 11
  18. 12
  19. 13
  20. 14
  21. 15
  22. 16
  23. 17
  24. 18
  25. 19
  26. 20
  27. 21
  28. 22
  29. 23
  30. 24
  31. 25
  32. 26
  33. 27
  34. 28
  35. 29
  36. 30
  37. 31
  38. 32
  39. 33
  40. 34
  41. 35
  42. 36
  43. 37
  44. 38
  45. 39
  46. 40
  47. 41
  48. 42
  49. 43
  50. 44
  51. 45
  52. 46
  53. 47
  54. 48
  55. 49
  56. 50
  57. 51
  58. 52
  59. 53
  60. 54
  61. 55
  62. 56
  63. 57
  64. 58
  65. 59
  66. 60
  67. 61
  68. 62
  69. 63
  70. 64
  71. 65
  72. 66
  73. 67
  74. 68
  75. 69
  76. 70
  77. 71
  78. 72
  79. 73
  80. 74
  81. 75
  82. 76
  83. 77
  84. 78
  85. 79
  86. 80
  87. 81
  88. 82
  89. 83
  90. 84
  91. 85
  92. 86
  93. 87
  94. 88
  95. 89
  96. 90
  97. 91
  98. 92
  99. 93
  100. 94
  101. Epilogue
  102. Acknowledgments and a Personal Note
  103. Excerpt

Loften was still out there in the night, and he’d vowed to return. Jeff was gone. She couldn’t find Dillard.

She was alone.

Cruz’s words about Loften echoed in her head. He could be anywhere…

Then Loften’s threat. I’m going to come back and…

She spotted a figure down the street, uncertain if it was a man or woman. The person was approaching. Getting closer.

Her pulse pounded.

Relieved to arrive at her driveway, Lisa raised her phone and began submitting the entry code to unlock the front door. When she reached it, the door failed to open. She flinched when, behind her, the sound of growling and a jingling chain pierced the night.

Lisa turned as a German shepherd and its owner strained the leash between them.

“Sorry,” the dog’s owner said. She scolded her animal. “That’s not nice, Rusty!”

Lisa then manually entered the code, and it worked.

Once she got inside, she checked the security system and set the alarm again. Then she took a breath and texted Jeff.

Did you find Vida?

A full minute passed then another without his response.

When’re you coming home?

A minute passed, then two, three, five without Jeff responding. She knew that even if he were driving, he’d respond at a red light.

Answer me please! she wrote in her third text.

But he didn’t respond.

54

The faltering neon sign read O…wave…den in the early-evening dark when Jeff pulled up to the office of the Oceanwave Gardens Motel.

Two men bent with age wearing torn floral shirts and ripped pants drank from a shared bottle in a paper bag, beside the office door. A splashing sound drew Jeff’s attention to a third old man relieving himself against the wall near the ice machine in the breezeway by the door with the word Laundry scrawled on it in black marker.

Jeff’s car chirped when he used his key fob to lock it.

The office doors and windows were open, and a radio tuned to a conspiracy-theory show spilled from it. The reception area, with its tape-patched furniture, smelled of something unpleasant and leathery. Jeff could see the unshaven night manager, his stained T-shirt stretched over his belly, seated behind the counter watching porn on a laptop while sipping from a ceramic coffee cup. Next to the man was half a bottle of Coke and half a bottle of whiskey. His chair creaked when he swiveled.

“Need a room?”

“I need your help.”

The toothpick in the corner of his mouth shifted. “You a cop?”

“No. I’m looking for my cousin—her family’s concerned. We understand she’s a guest here. I need to check on her. Her name’s Vida Warren.”

“We got rules about privacy. We don’t give out that kind of information.”

Jeff saw that the man’s eyes were glassy and he was struggling to appear sober.