Murder House

NOAH WALKER SITS on his idling Harley, down the street from Justin’s house in East Hampton. He’s logged a lot of miles tonight looking for Jenna Murphy, driving loops around Bridgehampton, hitting some familiar spots like Murphy’s apartment, Tasty’s, the Dive Bar, even Aiden’s house, but always doubling back here to Justin’s place.

Because Justin’s the best bet for finding her. Jenna was last seen, according to Isaac, being picked up outside the police station by someone driving a Jaguar, which almost assuredly means Justin. And it would make sense she’d call him.

They aren’t together right now, apparently, because all Justin has done for the last couple of hours is pace back and forth in his living room.

There he is right now, standing close enough to the window on the west side of his property that Noah can see him. Checking his watch. Pacing. Running his hands through his hair. Nervous. Anxious.

Maybe it’s time to drive around some more, do another loop.

He jumps at the sight of Justin’s garage door lifting. A moment later, the Jaguar pulls out of the driveway, backing up not far from where Noah rests on his Harley.

This is it. He’s sure of it.

He waits until Justin has turned off his street before he starts up his bike and drives. He turns in the same direction as Justin and follows him from a distance, only a small amount of traffic on the roads but sufficient to hide his presence.

Justin travels west on Main Street toward Bridgehampton. Noah keeps his distance, considers even killing his lights, but he sees no indication that Justin knows he’s being followed.

If only he knew where Justin was going. If he knew that, he could—

Justin’s car slows near the cemetery. He puts on his signal for a right turn.

Wait.

Wait a second.

He’s heading for Ocean Drive. Sure. Of course. He’s going to that house.

And I know a shortcut. I can beat him there.

Noah veers off Main Street and drives his bike across the open field of the cemetery, taking a straight line instead of the right angle Justin is forced to take by driving on the streets.

Noah crosses through the south end of the cemetery and hits Ocean Drive before Justin has even turned off Main Street. With a good two blocks’ lead on Justin, he kills the lights on his bike and guns it forward, making sure he’ll arrive at the mansion at least a full minute before Justin.

He stops at a group of trees just off the street, very close to the mansion. He looks back, seeing the headlights of a car in the distance, heading his way.

He removes his gun and flashlight from his saddlebag. Then he ducks into the shrubbery across the street from the mansion and waits. Only moments later, the Jaguar pulls up in front of the mansion.

Justin gets out of his car without any sense that Noah is nearby, or that he’s been followed, jogging up to the mammoth gate blocking the driveway. He grabs it, then pushes it open and heads onto the driveway.

Noah creeps closer, obscured by darkness, in soft grass, watching Justin.

Justin jogs slowly up toward the dark house, looking at it. Looking, as well, at the old carriage house at the end of the driveway.

Noah crosses the street and hides behind the Jaguar.

Justin, at a crossroads, decides to head up the driveway, toward the carriage house. Noah slinks up to the gate by the curb and pushes it open as softly as he can.

A flashlight comes on, Justin illuminating the space in front of him.

Noah sees what Justin saw, the reason he chose to head up the driveway.

The door of the carriage house is wide open.

Justin starts jogging toward it, while Noah follows, moving at a slightly faster clip, closing the distance but taking care not to announce himself.

“Jenna!” Justin calls out in a harsh whisper. “Jenna?” He approaches the carriage house with caution, slowing his pace.

Then Justin disappears inside.

Noah reaches the doors and readies himself.





115


NOAH PEEKS INSIDE the carriage house.

Justin is shining his flashlight around. “Shit,” he says.

You don’t know what shit is, Justin.

But you’re about to find out.

Noah springs forward into the room. Before Justin can do anything more than turn around, Noah plows into him, sending him sprawling, crashing into the wall. Noah grabs Justin and throws him facedown on the cement floor, gripping his hair, shoving the gun into the back of Justin’s neck.

“Where is she?” Noah growls.

“Noah?” Justin manages, catching his breath. “Is that … you?”

“Tell me where she is, Justin, or I’ll kill you right now.”

His fingers tightly gripping Justin’s hair, Noah jerks Justin’s head upward and then down, hard, onto the cement floor.

“That’s me being nice, Justin. You wanna see me when I’m mean? This is your last chance,” says Noah. “Where is Jenna Murphy?”

“I don’t—I’m looking for her, too. I thought she might’ve … come here.”

Cool air to Noah’s right. He looks over, shines his flashlight over the trapdoor, wide open.

“Did she go down there?”

“I’m telling you, I don’t know.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”