9
Rowan took a sip of her soda as she studied her older brother.
“I want to make that.” Malcolm’s gaze was glued to the TV baking show, where stressed-out contestants were each attempting to assemble a complicated apricot couronne in the allotted time. “That looks awesome,” he said as he stroked his dog, Zeke, on the sofa beside him.
Rowan agreed. Topped with icing and sliced almonds, the fancy, twisted sweet bread was packed with dried apricots and cranberries. “Let’s plan it for our next baking day,” she suggested, feeling simultaneously delighted and sad. Delighted that Malcolm was interested in tackling complicated recipes, and sad that he’d never cooked a meal or even baked a cookie until recently.
After seeing his fascination with baking shows, Rowan and her twin sisters had decided to have sibling baking days twice a month. The four of them would agree on a recipe and then have a baking contest to see who could make it the best. At first Malcolm had been paired with one of the sisters, but he’d studied and practiced all sorts of recipes and was now skilled enough to hold his own against the three women.
Rowan exchanged a grin with Iris. Having Malcolm back in their lives was a blessing and a true pleasure. Kidnapped when he was seven, Malcolm had lived twenty-five years under the cruel thumb of his abductor. No schooling, no friends, no belongings. Books had been his only friends, read on the sly when the kidnapper borrowed library books for himself. Last summer he’d escaped and made his way back to his family, deeply uncertain of his welcome because of lies told by his tormentor.
Malcolm had been skin and bones and could barely look a person in the eye when he returned. But with love, nutrition, and emotional support, he’d improved by leaps and bounds. He had put on weight and muscle and now was the spitting image of their father when he was younger. Rowan gave a lot of credit to his dog, Zeke, for helping him gain confidence and manage his anxiety. It had been her idea to get him a dog after seeing how often he sought Thor when he was stressed. Together they’d found the golden retriever mix at a rescue. The easygoing dog had immediately bonded with Malcolm, and Rowan suspected Zeke had felt how deeply her brother needed a pet of his own to love and care for.
Once a week the four siblings met up to watch reality TV and order takeout. Before Malcolm returned to their family, the sisters had usually watched trashy dating shows and emptied a few bottles of wine. Now they’d switched to food-oriented TV shows and cut way back on the alcohol because Malcolm hated the taste. Everyone was happy with the change. Rowan looked forward to the mental and emotional escape the evening always provided. She’d been thinking nonstop about Sophia McLeod and her father since hearing the news. The horrible situation made her appreciate her family even more tonight.
What would I do if my father was murdered like that?
She couldn’t fathom it.
Rowan took a bite of chicken curry as she watched the bakers on TV scramble. Malcolm had chosen an Indian restaurant for that night’s meal. The siblings rotated whose home they watched TV at and who got to choose the food. Malcolm’s favorite food was cheeseburgers, but after he’d chosen McDonald’s several times, the sisters rebelled and made a rule that if he wanted a burger, he had to pick a restaurant that wasn’t fast food. He had slowly expanded his palate and now confidently selected restaurants with food he’d never tried.
Tonight they were at Iris’s home. She shared the little house with her boyfriend, Matt, who didn’t mind vanishing on the family’s special night. Matt hung out with them plenty of other times and knew these nights were sacred to the siblings.
Iris’s identical twin, Ivy, was sprawled in an easy chair, her feet up on an ottoman, her dark hair styled in a perfect flip and slicked back from her face with a black velvet headband. The twins were hairdressers and owned a successful Bend salon. While Ivy leaned more toward the elegant hairstyles and fashions of the mid–twentieth century, Iris liked to style her hair and dress with a theme. She’d been on a Barbie kick lately, and Rowan wondered how much she had spent on the numerous pink outfits.
“That is gorgeous,” said Ivy as a baker took a couronne out of the oven. She took a long sip of wine, leaving red lipstick on her glass’s rim. Ivy still enjoyed a glass of wine on their nights with Malcolm. “This is my night with no kid,” she’d pointed out. “I can no longer enjoy a glass at home because I feel as if I must always stay on guard.” Her son, West, was eight. Last summer he’d been kidnapped by one of the same men who’d taken Malcolm decades before. Rowan didn’t know if Ivy would fully recover from the ordeal, no matter how much therapy she had. West had bounced back from the traumatic event much faster.
Thor nosed Rowan’s hand, interested in her curry, and she scratched his chest instead. Realizing she wasn’t going to share, he joined Zeke on the sofa, curling up so their backs were pressed together. The dogs had quickly become best buddies.
“Traitor,” Rowan said softly, drawing a grin from Malcolm.
Ivy abruptly sat up straight in the easy chair. “What the hell?”
Malcolm jumped at her shout, and the dogs’ heads shot up. Thor leaped off the sofa, looking to Rowan for instruction.
Ivy dashed across the family room to the tall stool where Iris sat at the kitchen bar, a glass of orange soda in her hand. Ivy snatched the glass away and lifted Iris’s hand. “Why didn’t you say anything?” she yelled at her twin, but then hugged her and started to cry.
Rowan exchanged a confused look with Malcolm and paused the TV show. Then she saw a diamond ring glitter on Iris’s left hand during the hug.
She’s engaged!
Her throat tight and tears starting, Rowan set down her chicken and came around the sofa. “Ivy has a point,” she said as she hugged Iris. “Why didn’t you tell us? When did this happen?”
Ivy continued to tearily berate her twin as she gripped Iris’s hand and studied the ring.
“It happened this afternoon,” Iris said, wiping her own tears. “I thought it’d be funny to see who noticed it first.”
“It wasn’t funny!” Ivy glared at her sister.
“Ivy almost gave me a heart attack,” said Rowan. “And she terrified the dogs.”
“Congratulations, Iris,” Malcolm said with a wide smile, stretching past his sisters to give her a one-armed hug. “I really like Matt. I didn’t know you were planning to get married.”
“Me neither,” admitted Iris. “We’d talked about it a few times but never said anything for certain. I knew I wanted to, but I wasn’t certain he was on board yet.” She lifted her hand to look at the ring. “I guess he was.”
“How did he do it?” asked Ivy. “Where did he do it? Were you surprised? Oh my God ... did anyone record it? I’ll be furious if I can’t see how it happened.”
“Slow down,” said Iris. “He had a friend record it, so relax. He knew you’d have his head if he didn’t. We went for a walk along the Deschutes. You know where the newer footbridge is? He asked me there. Went down on one knee and everything.” She smiled, a dreamy look in her eyes. “We had our first kiss there last year.”
“I’m still going to kill him,” muttered Ivy. “He should have first talked to me about this.”
Rowan snorted, amused by Ivy’s annoyance. “You’re not Iris’s keeper.”
“Well, I know marriage isn’t to be taken lightly. Do not go to Vegas,” she ordered her twin.
Ivy’s marriage had lasted two months. She’d been young, and he’d been a jerk. Rowan had done something similar. A short-lived marriage a decade ago had been a very wrong decision, and she’d learned the same lesson as Ivy.
“Do Mom and Dad know?” asked Rowan.
“No. We’ll tell them together tomorrow.”
“At least I’m not the last person to know,” Ivy grumbled. “Now. I think this calls for ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.”
Malcolm’s face lit up. “On it.” He strode to the fridge and took three cartons out of the freezer. “You were prepared,” he said to Iris.
She grinned back. “I knew we’d be celebrating tonight. And ice cream would be everyone’s first choice. You’re all rather predictable.”
Rowan laughed and grabbed large bowls out of a cupboard. She set them on the counter and looked up to catch Ivy speculatively studying her.
She’s wondering about me and Evan.
“No,” Rowan told her firmly, glaring hard. “You’re jumping way ahead. One engagement at a time. Evan and I aren’t at that point anyway.” They hadn’t discussed marriage. Early on she’d told Evan about her previous one, and it hadn’t come up again.
Her phone rang, and she crossed the kitchen to get it out of her bag. “Speak of the devil.” A smile crossed her lips. Her usual reaction when he called.
“Hi,” she answered. “We were just talking about you.”
“I’m okay,” Evan said, his voice sounding strained. “I wanted to call you before you heard something through the grapevine. I wasn’t hurt.”
Rowan’s stomach dropped to her feet. “What?” she asked hoarsely. “What happened?” Her siblings turned to her, alarm on their faces.
“There was a shooting at an auto body shop outside of town. Noelle and I were there questioning a subject. Everyone is fine.”
Relief swamped her. “Good.”
“Well ... our subject got shot, but it’s a clean wound through his arm.”
“He was shot? Who shot him?”
“Don’t know. It happened outside the shop, and no one saw anything. It’ll be a late night. Don’t wait up.” Someone spoke to him in the background. “I’ll be right there,” replied Evan. “I gotta go,” he told Rowan. “I love you.”
“Stay as long as you need. Love you too.”
He was gone.
She slowly lowered the phone. “There was a shooting. Evan was there, but he and Noelle are fine.”
“Did someone die?” asked Malcolm, his face white. He’d seen too much death in his past.
“No. Someone got shot in the arm. Not law enforcement.” Her spike of adrenaline drained away, and she tried to relax. “Let’s eat ice cream.” She had to force the words, wanting to distract herself and her siblings from Evan’s call.
The other three exchanged glances. “Are you okay?” asked Ivy, her forehead wrinkled with concern.
“Yeah. It was an abrupt shock at first, but since he’s okay, I’m good.” No one looked convinced. “Just waiting for my heart to slow.”
“You’re staying here tonight,” announced Iris. “No excuses.”
Rowan eyed her sister’s determined face. The stubborn twins dug in their heels when they made decisions. It was easiest to go along with what they wanted. Rowan had suddenly felt very vulnerable, and not sleeping in an empty house sounded comforting.
Evan’s job put him in dangerous situations. Not as often as when he had been a deputy, but often enough to make Rowan worry she’d get that phone call that all law enforcement families dread.
“That sounds great,” she told Iris. “I’ll let Evan know I won’t be at home.” She tapped a text on her phone. “Now can we have ice cream? I really need it.”
Really, really need it.
Malcolm dug into the cookies and cream.
She’d see Evan tomorrow.