LOST TO THE LAKE: A gripping thriller full of suspense by Anna Willett

Author:Anna Willett [Willett, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: THE BOOK FOLKS bestselling publisher of thrillers, mysteries and suspense
Published: 2022-03-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

“Why didn’t you take the car?” Marty asked as they drove toward the shops. “Why take a lift from a stranger when we have a car? Sometimes I wonder about you, Beth.”

Why did you lie to me, Beth? That’s what he was really asking.

“The keys were right next to your head and I didn’t want to jingle them and wake you.” It was the truth. The best lies were built on the truth. She had learned that from him.

The shop turned out to be a hybrid, a mix of roadhouse and mini supermarket. Vine. A trendy name for a holidaymaker’s pit stop. They grabbed avocado and salad sandwich wraps, a bag of locally grown macadamias, wine, and a few other bits and pieces.

Feigning interest in reading labels, she wasted time tossing things in their basket. All the while she scanned the store looking for the bathrooms. As they were passing the fridges, she saw a rustic iron plaque hanging over a side door that said ‘Toilets’.

“I need the bathroom,” she said. “I won’t be long.”

He fixed her with those hazel eyes and under the shop’s harsh lights his irises looked almost red.

She moved quickly, not giving him time to question or delay her. If she hesitated, her resolve would fracture and she wouldn’t have the strength later. But more than that, she wanted to be away from those bizarre red eyes. It was like she could feel them burning her skin.

Once she flung the door open, she found herself outside. The toilets were housed in a separate structure that had entrances on either side. The doors were marked ‘Sheilas’ and ‘Blokes’. Someone’s idea of hilarity. Under different circumstances she would have giggled and asked Marty to take her photo under the ‘Sheilas’ sign. She thought of the caption she would write when she posted the picture on Instagram: The eighties called. They want their sign back. It was a stupid thought, one to distract her from what she was about to do.

Running, she crossed the ground between the buildings and dove through the bathroom door. After almost colliding with a young woman carrying a toddler, she stepped aside and mumbled an apology as the woman tutted and brushed past her.

The bathroom reminded her of the cabin, all wooden walls and mirrors with chunky frames. Her tongue felt dry so she lunged for the basin. Using her hand, she scooped deliciously cold water into her mouth then splashed some on her cheeks.

What was she doing wasting time faffing around with water when Marty was undoubtedly wondering what was taking her so long? He was probably on his way to the toilet block at that moment and knowing him he would walk straight into the ladies’. That sort of thing wouldn’t stop him, not Marty Jacobsen, the man who always had a plan.

With a fugitive glance at the door, she dashed into one of the empty stalls, closed and latched the door, then pulled out her mobile. One swipe and the screen came to life and just as quickly died.

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