Chapter 13 - The Lake Shore Trap
Grace pushed through the thick wall of pine branches and briars, her boots sinking deep into the damp, decaying moss of the forest floor. The piercing scream of one of the girls still echoed in her ears, driving her forward despite the burning in her lungs and the mud soaking through the hem of her grey-and-white uniform dress.
As she broke through the final line of dense brush, the skeletal structure of the abandoned boathouse loomed ahead of her, rising up from the dark, stagnant water of the lake. The wooden planks of the pier were rotting and warped, groaning ominously under the heavy mist that rolled across the surface of the water. Tied securely to the weathered wooden pilings at the end of the dock was a small wooden rowboat, and sitting inside it, huddled together beneath a single wool blanket, were Lily, Maya, and their younger sister, all weeping silently.
Grace sprinted down the rotting wooden pier, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "Lily! Maya!" she called out, keeping her voice as calm as possible so as not to startle them further.
The three girls turned their tear-stained faces toward her as she reached the end of the dock. Lily immediately scrambled out of the rowboat, throwing her small arms around Grace’s waist and burying her face in the fabric of her apron.
"Grace! The bad man said you had to get in the boat with us," Lily sobbed, pointing a trembling finger toward the dark, open doorway of the boathouse behind the slip.
Grace wrapped her arms tightly around the three children, shielding them behind her body as she slowly lifted her gaze toward the shadowy interior of the boathouse. The wooden structure creaked loudly in the morning wind. Standing right in the center of the decaying room, leaning casually against an old wooden workbench, was a tall figure wearing a dark coat and a wide-brim speckled hat.
The figure slowly raised one gloved hand and tipped the brim of the hat back.
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Grace gasped, her breath catching sharply in her throat. The face staring back at her from the shadows was not a stranger, nor was it a ghost from the past. It was a face she recognized instantly from the personnel files at the Sterling Agency—a senior investigator named Marcus Vance, who was supposed to have
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