Lloyd speaks up. “My money’s on those squatters in the other buildings. They’ve been a problem for months.”

  “Those squatters, as you call them,” Kiara says, “are displaced, unhoused people. We can’t just assume they’re guilty of everything that goes wrong around here.”

  “Anything is possible,” I say. “That’s why it’s good we’re all together.”

  “Who would want to hurt Dallas?” Nina asks. “Everyone loved him. It had to be random. Wrong place, wrong time.”

  “The people who own this building would want to hurt Dallas,” Sawyer says. “He was always giving them hell.”

  “That’s—” Hazel stops herself, looks at me. “Well, I’d say that’s one possibility that can’t be ruled out.”

  Once again, every head turns toward Tyler. The air, already so close and humid that being in here was like being locked in a damp closet, grows even thicker with suspicion and fear. Every pore in the room seems to be giving off the scent of desperation.

  “You still haven’t told us about Alaina,” Kiara says.

  “She drove off,” Mackenzie says. Maybe she knows me well enough to detect something on my face, because she quickly follows up. “Right, Dad? Isn’t that the woman you gave the car to?”

  Again, all eyes turn to me. I wish they’d look anywhere else.

  “It’s true that Alaina took my car and tried to leave.”

  “She stole your car?” Kiara asks.

  “No. No, she didn’t steal my car. I gave her the keys. Dallas gave me his car so I could drive home, and I gave mine to Alaina because she wanted to leave. She had friends, I guess, who said she could crash with them on the mainland. She really wanted to get off the island. And, you know, Alaina, she’s not—she wasn’t—she’s had her struggles.”

  “A lot of that was self-inflicted,” Lloyd says.

  Catalina rings her bell, shakes her head. Lloyd presses his lips tight. Like he doesn’t intend to speak ever again. I’ve never seen anyone else have that effect on Lloyd.

  “So, yes, it’s true that Alaina tried to drive to the mainland…across the causeway…. I wish I hadn’t given her the keys. Or that I’d told her not to go…”

  “Why?” Jordan asks. “What happened?”

  “The causeway isn’t safe.” My eyes meet Jordan’s, and now it’s our turn to speak without words. As soon as her gaze catches mine, she knows. Her expression shifts from interest to horror. “The rain, the wind…You all know the guardrails aren’t very high to begin with. And now the whole thing is starting to fall apart. There’s a big chunk missing.”

  Kiara gasps.

  “Stanley and I were on the landing, and we saw Alaina try to drive across.” I pause for a long moment, take in a deep breath before I say it. “She didn’t make it. The car slid off the causeway and into the water. We saw it happen….”

  “Oh, my God,” Nina says.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I catch Catalina making the sign of the cross, her lips moving silently.

  “I know this is all terrible. And I wish, more than anything, I could bring those two people back. But I can’t. That’s why we need to stay together and make sure the rest of us get through this safely. And we can. I know that.” I look around the room, my eyes landing on each of my fellow tenants. “Really, we can.”

  “I don’t know how we’re going to—”

  I cut Sawyer off. “We will. Okay?” No one responds. I wonder if I’ve come off too strong again. “Look, can I just have a moment alone with my family? I’ve barely seen them since they got here, and we’ve been apart for six months.”

  “Sure, don’t mind us,” Nina says. “I mean, we’re all friends here.”

  “Actually, I was hoping…” I look around the room but there’s nowhere to go. It’s like all of us are standing in a jam-packed subway car.

  Catalina rings her bell. We all turn and look.

  She lifts her arm and points toward the bedroom down the hallway. “Go on….” Her voice is low but clear. We all hear her.

  I look at Lloyd, figuring he won’t want us in his private space. But I also know I’ve found the one person Lloyd will consistently defer to. He nods his head, lips still tight.

  “Thank you.” I grab a flashlight off the coffee table and flick it on before turning to Catalina. “Thank you both. Maybe everyone else should settle in. Sit on the floor. Eat some of the snacks…try to remain calm.”

  I point the light in the direction Catalina indicated. Jordan and Mackenzie go down the hallway ahead of me, toward the apartment’s lone bedroom, leaving everything and everyone else behind.

  Thirty-Three

  It’s strange to be in someone else’s bedroom. Their most intimate and personal space.

  I close the door behind us, and for the first time in a long time, the three of us are together with a few minutes to breathe.

  Jordan and Mackenzie come right to me, and we cling to one another. We’re a tangle of arms and heads pressed together. I pull them tight to my body, squeezing as hard as I can and wishing I’d never had to let go. Even as the moment begins, I know it will have to end, that we’ll have to release one another and deal with everything that’s happening.

  I try to drink in this brief moment, sear it into my memory. It’s all I’ll have to sustain me through the rest of the night.

  “Dad?”

  We’re still holding one another.

  “Yes, Kenzie?”

  “I’m sorry I popped off about the car.”

  “It’s fine.”

  “I was an asshole, wasn’t I? I mean, you were trying to do something nice for somebody, and I was all caught up in how it affected me. And now she’s dead.”

  “None of this is your fault, Mackenzie.”

  “It’s not your fault either,” Jordan says in my ear. “I can tell you feel guilty about giving her the keys. But that’s not your fault. You can’t control what anyone else does.”

  “I should have stopped her from going across the causeway. I knew how bad it was.”

  “We made it across. And so did you. She had someone she wanted or needed to see. I’m sorry, Jake. I’m really sorry. But it was an accident.”

  I give them one more squeeze before I let go. They both step back, and in the faint glow of the flashlight I see the worry on their faces.

  “What do we do now?” Jordan asks.

  “This isn’t really the time to lie to each other. As much as I hate to admit it, there might be—probably is—a killer out there. A looter, or one of the homeless people from the other buildings.”

  “Unhoused people, Dad. Kiara’s right. You can’t blame them for no reason.”

  “You know what I mean. And this storm is landing. I’ll tell you the real truth. This building is not in great shape. Dallas was always worried about it withstanding a hurricane, and Kylie is going to be a big one.”

  “Yeah,” Jordan says, “this place is…rustic?”

  Mackenzie jumps in. “It’s a dump, Dad. I can’t believe you live here.”

  “It’s served its purpose. All it has to do now is serve it for one more night. Then we’ll get out of here.”

  Neither one of them says anything, but they exchange a look. It’s something I’ve seen many times before—my wife and daughter speaking to each other without words, sharing an insight that I can’t quite figure out. I don’t even mind. In fact, I love their closeness, their deep unspoken bond.

  But right now, I can tell they’ve been talking about something they need to share. Or thinking about it, their minds linked like two computers on the same network, silently exchanging files.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Don’t worry about it now,” Jordan says. “We’ve got bigger problems. Obviously.”

  “No, I want to know. If there’s something that needs to be said…” I look between the two of them. “Did something happen at home? Are your mom and dad okay?”

  “Everybody’s fine, Jake. Mom and Dad are fine. As crazy as ever but fine.”

  “Grandpa’s totally freaking out.”

  “Kenzie…”

  “He’s all holed up at the lake house and refusing to leave. He thinks people are after him.”

  “He watches too much TV news, that’s all.”

  “Dad, he wants to convert all his money to silver and sink it in the water at the lake so no one can find it but him. It would be like hundreds and hundreds of pounds of silver. Like a shipwreck or something.”

  “He won’t do that, Kenzie. Grandma will kill him if he tries. No, it’s not that. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Then what?”

  Something familiar grips me. A twisting pain in my chest. Not a heart attack, not a physical ailment. No, it’s the pain and anxiety of worrying about our marriage, the nagging, wrenching worry I’ve lived with for months and months. Since long before I came to Florida. Has Jordan come to Florida not to get back together but to end it in person? Is this our last night as a family? And are we going to spend it under the relentless onslaught of Hurricane Kylie?

  “Despite what Kenzie says about this building—”

  “You said it too, Mom. Don’t throw me under the bus.”

  “Despite what both of us said about this building, it really seems like you have a good life here. I was worried we’d come down here and you’d be spending your days on the beach with a bunch of beautiful bikini-clad neighbors, but everyone seems so real, so down-to-earth.”

  I let out a little laugh. “You were worried about that? Trust me, Jordan—that’s not happening. And even if it was, I promise no one looks as beautiful in a bikini as you do.”

  Jordan rolls her eyes and blushes at the same time. “Please, Jake.” But as she says it, a small smile appears on her face. She loves it when I say things like that. What she doesn’t know is, I really mean it.

  “You have all these people who care about you—and who you obviously care for.”

  “Yeah, like that Hazel. She’s totally harsh, but I’d kind of like her to be my grandmother.”

  “She’d more likely be your great-grandmother,” I say, “but I get your point.”

  “Anyway,” Jordan says, “you like it here, and when you talk about your job, you sound so excited, so happy. We’re just not sure—” She pauses. Even in the dim light, I can read her. Emotion is catching in her throat and filling her eyes.

  “Mom?”

  “It’s okay. I’m okay.” She turns to me. “I’m just worried you’re not going to want to come back.”

  “No, no, it’s not like that….”

  The same way it feels sometimes like Jordan and Mackenzie share a brain, I know I can’t hide anything from Jordan. Ever.

  She’s picked up on something real—my feelings about my life here in Florida. My job. My renewed sense of purpose, belonging.

  I don’t want to lie to her. Ever.

  “I’m coming back to Ohio. To both of you. I’m already packed. Dallas gave me his car because he said it’d have a better chance of making it to Ohio than the Elantra. You’re all that matters to me.”

  “You’re coming back?” Jordan asks, and I hear her voice cracking. “But do you want to come back? Do you want to come back to that life? That job?”

  “I want to come back to the two of you. You are my life. You are—”

  Thud-thud-thud.

  We all turn toward the door. “What the hell?”

  “Jake?”

  It’s a woman’s voice. Is it Nina’s? Kiara’s? Can’t I get five seconds alone with my family after six months away from them?

  I open the door. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  “It’s Stanley and Lloyd, Jake. You better get out here.”

  Thirty-Four

  Everyone is standing in a circle that fills the cramped space. Catalina’s bell rings continuously. In the center of the group, Stanley and Lloyd are squared off. At least six inches taller, Lloyd looms over Stanley.

  They look like two obnoxious teenagers ready to throw down and fight.

  “Hey, hey.”

  The crowd parts so I can get through, but Stanley and Lloyd keep their eyes locked on each other. Tyler stands right behind Stanley, almost like it’s a duel and he’s Stanley’s second.

  “What’s the problem here?” I ask. “As if we don’t have enough of them already.”

  Lloyd turns to me. “He won’t give it back.”

  “Give what back?”

  “My gun. He won’t give my gun back.”

  I’d forgotten all about the Glock.

  “What’s the matter, Stanley? Why don’t you give the gun back to Lloyd?”

  “Ethan hasn’t shown up yet, Jake. I want to go look for him. And if I’m going to go out into the storm with a killer, then I want to be armed. And Lloyd won’t let me.”

  “He shouldn’t go out,” Lloyd says. “Nobody should go out. We need to barricade that door and stay inside, where it’s safe. If Ethan can’t get his ass down here because he’s looking for his stupid cat, then that’s his problem.”

  I look around the room. “Ethan still isn’t here?”

  “He’s not,” Stanley says. “And I’m worried about him. He’s— Well, you know Ethan. He’s sensitive. He doesn’t always make good decisions. I want to find him and bring him here. And I want to do it with a weapon.”

  “That seems reasonable, doesn’t it, Lloyd?”

  “No. This is my home.” He points at the bed where Catalina lies. “And that’s my wife. And this is the place and the person I need to protect.” Lloyd steals a look at Tyler, but I don’t think anyone notices but me. “I did what you asked, gave you a chance to round up everyone. Now anybody outside of this apartment is on their own. Quit pushing me, Jake. I gave an inch, and you’re taking a mile. Actually, I already gave a mile, and now you want another.”

  “You’ve been very generous, Lloyd. You and Catalina both. I know that. We all know that. Right?”

  I turn to the others in the room, and they all nod. They take my cue and lay it on thick. Sometimes that’s just what a person like Lloyd needs. A thick layer of appreciation.

  It appears to work. His features soften a bit. He takes a step back from Stanley.

  The door of the apartment rattles in its frame, as if to remind us a hurricane is still blowing outside.

  “Stanley, if you want, why don’t we go look for Ethan? Together.”

  “Dad?”

  “Jake, wait—”

  I turn back to Jordan and Mackenzie. “We’re just going to take a quick look for Ethan. He lives up on seven. That’s too high. And Stanley’s right. Ethan doesn’t always make the best decisions. He might need help finding his cat—or deciding it would be best to stop looking for the cat and come down here where the rest of us are. We can help him do that.” I turn around again. “Right, Stanley? We can do that?”

  Stanley nods. “Sure, okay.”

  “Why doesn’t Tyler go?” Sawyer is the only person still sitting, likely due to his bad hip. “He’s the security guy. That makes him some kind of expert on taking care of himself. And if he was sent here by the owners to check on everything, well, that should include Ethan.”

  “I agree,” Kiara says. “Why doesn’t Tyler go?”

  “The owners don’t give a shit about us,” Nina says. “I’m sure Tyler doesn’t either.”

  Even before we’ve all turned Tyler’s way, he’s shaking his head. “I think it’s best we all stay here. It’s not that I don’t care—I’m not saying that—but the best course of action is for everyone to stay together. This Ethan guy, whoever he is—he had his chance. If he knocks on the door, we can let him in. Otherwise—”

  “Didn’t you hear what they said?” Kiara asks. “Ethan might need help. He’s…he’s like a child.”

  “I think we should all stay put.” Tyler glances at the window even though the blinds are down. “It’s getting worse out.”

  “That’s cold,” Sawyer says.

  “It sure is.” Kiara places her hands on her hips and shakes her head.

  Everyone starts to speak at once, and I wave my hands, shouting them down until they’re quiet.

  “It’s okay. It’s okay. We don’t want to make anyone do something they don’t want to do. Stanley and I will go up to Ethan’s place and have a look around. We’ll be as fast as possible. In the meantime, keep the door locked. When we come back with Ethan, we’ll barricade the door. No one else will be able to come or go after that. That will be it.”

  Everyone murmurs. It sounds like the murmurs represent agreement, but I can’t be sure.

  I turn to Stanley. “You ready?”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Is the safety on?” Lloyd asks.

  Stanley sneers at Lloyd. “Of course it is.”

  “Good to hear.” I pat Stanley on the shoulder. “Let’s go get Ethan.”

  “Wait.” It’s Sawyer again. “You want us to lock that door after you leave? So we’re safe?”

  “Absolutely,” I say. “My family’s here too.”

  “But when you come back, how will we know it’s you and Stanley and not the killer?”

  He has a point. “I’ll use a knock you can all recognize. Three slow knocks and then three quick ones. If you don’t hear that, don’t open the door.”

  Sawyer nods, satisfied.

  I look behind me at Jordan and Mackenzie. Why do I always seem to be leaving them when I have no desire to do so? Why?

  Words seem inadequate, so I just say, “We’ll be right back.”

  “Be careful,” Jordan says.

  “We will.”

  Stanley and I cross the room to the door. Stanley undoes the lock and the door flies open, letting in the rain and the wind—the never-ending reminder of the growing storm.