He sat on the hood of the wrangler and watched the waves wash over the golden sand on the beach.
The cigarette he held with his fingers was nearly done but he was yet to notice. His mind was years away, twenty years away to be exact.
He brought the cigarette to his lips and took another drag. He held in the smoke till his lungs complained and forced him to exhale. He shot a glance into the car through the windscreen and noted Abigail was still asleep in the back seat. She had made herself comfortable and dozed off the moment they had parked on the beach.
The plan was to wait for Edward to confirm the exact whereabouts of John Summers before they could move. They had avoided taking a room at the hotel in order to avoid drawing attention to themselves. The hope was they would find and
