Page 6 of Trick me. Treat me

SO AM I

Lacey

Location on. All night.

Already done. But I check it again anyway. Then I send her the screenshot of Mr. Pickles and she responds almost instantly telling me how adorable he is and that I should try and cat-nap him.

The first fifteen minutes of the drive, everything seems normal. The usual city traffic with people in costumes spilling across the sidewalks. A group of girls wearing matching angel costumes stand outside a bar despite it not even being five yet. Two little kids dressed as dinosaurs race down the sidewalk ahead of their parents. Orange lights hang from balconies. Pumpkins sit on doorsteps. Then the buildings begin thinning.

I watch through the window as the city disappears behind us, trees replacing houses as the road narrows. My signal drops from five bars to three. Then two.

“How much farther?” I ask, my anxiety starting to ramp up again.

“Approximately twenty-five minutes.”

My phone buzzes in my hand, a text from the unknown number flashing on the screen.

Unknown

Good girl for getting in the car.

What? Heat creeps up my neck. I look toward Harris but he’s focused on the road. Why the fuck would they text their cat sitter saying good girl for getting into a vehicle? My thighs press together before I can stop them, my praise kink rearing her ugly little head. I quickly separate them, shuffling in my seat awkwardly. Nooooo way. I am not about to get turned on because a stranger fucking praised me for following basic instructions.

Outside the car, forest surrounds us, growing thicker by the mile. Tall pines crowd either side of the road, their branches knitting together above us in places. Fallen leaves blanket the ground in rust and gold, and the late-October sky has already started darkening behind them. It’s really beautiful. I’m truly a fall girl through and through, and scenes like this remind me why. But… this is also an exceptional location for homicide, and my phone is down to one bar.

I open the text thread with Lacey.

Me

Getting into the woods now.

The message hangs, taking longer than usual for the progress bar to slide across the screen. Thankfully it sends just before we turn onto an unmarked road and my signal vanishes completely.

“No service,” I whisper.

“There isn’t much out here,” Harris says. I lift my head to see him watching me through the rear-view mirror. “There’s Wi-Fi at the house.”

Oh thank freaking god for that.

We drive for another five minutes before reaching a set of huge black metal gates that slowly open as the car approaches. I turn to watch them close and disappear behind us through the rear window, my stomach fluttering nervously. Then the trees break ahead of us and my anxiety is replaced by utter awe.

“Holy shit.” I breathe.

I expected to see some kind of cabin. But calling this a cabin would be an extreme under-exaggeration. The house rises between the trees in dark timber and stone, enormous windows reflecting the dying light. Two stories. Wraparound deck. Huge stone chimney. Warm golden lights glowing from inside. Beyond it, through the trees, I catch the silver-black shimmer of water. A huge, gorgeous lake with a little dock that stretches out into the water. It’s breathtaking. Like something from an architectural magazine dedicated specifically to houses I’ll never afford.

Harris pulls up in front of the house and hops out of the car to open my door. I slide out, cold air hitting me immediately, making me tug my sweatshirt sleeves over my hands. The forest is so quiet and peaceful. No cars or voices or sirens blaring. Just wind whispering through trees with the sound of birds calling in the distance. I look toward the woods and my stomach tightens. They’re so dense. Dark already between the trunks despite the remaining daylight.

“Miss?”

I jump, an involuntary squeak leaving my throat. I turn to find Harris holding out my bag. Apparently he retrieved it while I was busy imagining all the places someone could hide my corpse.

I take the bag with an apologetic smile, and he hands me a small black key fob. “The front door will lock automatically from the inside. This opens it on the pad by the door.”

I curl my fingers around it. “Okay.”

“Everything you need is inside. Food and drinks are stocked. Your instructions for Mr. Pickles are on the kitchen counter.”

“And you’ll be back tomorrow?”