Chapter 24
Chapter
Twenty-Four
At eleven, Nora and Austin were still sitting at her kitchen table.
Neither had mentioned that he should probably leave.
The bowls from the vegetable soup she’d warmed earlier sat in the sink, while an open sleeve of crackers remained between them.
The hymnal page was gone. Luke had sent a deputy to collect it, along with the envelope. Nora should have felt better knowing it was being treated as evidence.
Instead, the empty spot on the table bothered her almost as much as the page itself had.
Austin turned a glass of water between his hands and glanced around the kitchen. “This is the house where you grew up?”
“It is. Mom stayed after Dad moved out, but eventually all the reminders of Christian became too much. She found another place, and I stayed.”
“And now she’s back.”
“Most nights.” Nora glanced toward the ceiling. “Partly because of Christian. Partly because she and Dad are apparently rediscovering each other after years of pretending they could barely stand being in the same room.”
Austin’s eyebrows rose. “That sounds complicated.”
“You have no idea.”
“My parents stayed married until Mom died, but I’m pretty sure Dad irritated her every day of it.” A brief smile crossed his face. “It may have been the secret to their success.”
“Irritating each other? I’ll have to remember that.” Nora studied him. “How old were you when she died?”
His thumb stilled against the glass. “Twenty-two. Pancreatic cancer. It happened fast.”
“I’m sorry.”
He nodded, the humor disappearing from his face. Then he added, “Dad drove her crazy through the whole process.”
“What do you mean?”
“He researched every treatment, specialist, and clinical trial he could find. Mom finally told him if he printed one more medical journal article, she was going to smother him with it.”
Nora laughed quietly. “I would’ve liked her.”
“You would have.” His expression softened. “She would have liked you too.”
Warmth touched Nora’s face. She lowered her gaze before he could notice.
Austin reached for a cracker, almost as if he needed the distraction. “There’s one part of this you haven’t told me much about.”
She looked up.
“Jacob.”
The warmth vanished. “You’ve researched him.”
“I know what’s in the reports and what made the news. I don’t know what happened from your side.”
Nora stared into her coffee. “We dated for almost four months. He ate dinner here. Prayed with us. Talked about his daughter and listened when I talked about Christian.” She traced a small chip along the rim of her mug. “I told Wren he was steady. Then he took her son.”
Austin’s jaw tightened. “How much did he know about your family’s routines?”
“Everything he needed to know. That Wren lived in the cabin next door. Where Mason went to school. When Mom came over. Which doors we usually locked.” Nora swallowed against the pressure in her throat. “I gave him all of it without realizing I was doing it.”
“He spent months making sure you wouldn’t realize.”
“I should have anyway.”
“Did he act nervous around Mason? Ask questions that didn’t fit? Push you for access to your family?”
“No. He was patient. Helpful. He never seemed to push for anything.”
“That wasn’t an accident.” Austin leaned forward. “People like Jacob don’t gain access by acting dangerous. They become the person no one thinks they need to guard against.”
“That doesn’t change the fact that I let him in.”
“No. But it changes who’s responsible for what he did afterward.”
She looked at him. His anger wasn’t directed at her. She could see it in the controlled set of his mouth and the way his fingers curled against the table.
“He told Wren this wasn’t just about him,” she said. “He still won’t say who ‘we’ is.”
“Do you think there is a ‘we’?”
“I wanted to believe he was talking big. Not anymore.”
Austin went still. “You said you dated almost four months.”
“Yes.”
“And Christian came home three weeks ago.”
Nora waited, not yet seeing where he was going.
“Jacob was already inside your family before Christian reappeared.”
“He could have been waiting for an opportunity.”
“Maybe.” Austin’s gaze held hers. “Or maybe he was put in place for some other reason.”
The floorboard creaked overhead.
Nora’s attention snapped toward the ceiling. Austin closed his notebook, the unsettling question about Jacob still hanging between them.
Another creak followed. Then footsteps moved across the second floor, slow and measured.
Nora set down her mug. She knew the difference between someone walking half asleep and someone moving with a purpose. Whatever she was hearing didn’t sound quite like either.
“Nora?” Austin’s chair shifted as he started to rise.
She held up a hand. “Wait.”
The footsteps reached the stairs. A few seconds later, Christian appeared at the end of the hallway wearing the same sweatpants and T-shirt as before. His feet were bare, and his hair was flattened on one side from sleep.
His eyes were open, but they weren’t focused.
Nora stood slowly. “Christian?”
He kept walking.
Austin rose too, but he stayed behind the table as Nora moved into the hallway. She stepped between Christian and the back door.
“Christian, stop.” Nora kept her voice firm without raising it.
But Christian continued toward her as if she weren’t there.
She moved aside before he walked into her. His hand closed around the deadbolt, and her pulse lurched as the lock turned.
Austin stepped closer. “Should we wake him?”
“Not suddenly.” Nora didn’t know whether that was the right way to handle a sleepwalker. She only remembered how terrified Christian had been when Wren startled him near the barn. “Let’s see if we can guide him back inside.”
The door opened, and cold air swept into the kitchen. Christian stepped onto the porch without hesitating.
“Christian, it’s Nora.” She followed him outside, hoping her voice would reach whatever part of him remained awake.
Christian crossed the porch and continued onto the grass, his bare feet pressing into the damp ground.
Austin stepped through the door behind her but kept several feet between them.
Christian continued toward the trees. Moonlight caught one side of his face, but nothing changed in his expression.
“Christian.” Nora lengthened her stride and came alongside him. “You need to stop.”
His head turned slightly. For one hopeful second, she thought he’d heard her.
Then he whispered, “Sinner, come home.”
Nora’s breath caught. The words from the hymnal page rushed back with enough force to stop her where she stood.
That line was from “Softly and Tenderly.”
Christian reached the edge of the woods and stopped beside several rocks clustered around the base of an oak.
For a moment, he stood perfectly still.
Then he bent, picked up one of the rocks, and carried it several feet into the trees.
He set it down.
Returned for another.
Nora stared at him. “Christian?”
He didn’t look at her. He lifted a second rock, carried it to the same spot, then placed it beside the first.
“What is he doing?” Austin murmured behind her.
“I don’t know.”
Christian returned to the tree and reached for another.
He wasn’t digging this time. He wasn’t searching for anything.
He was moving rocks from one place to another.
“Christian, stop.” Nora stepped closer.
He continued as if he hadn’t heard her. Back and forth. One rock at a time. His bare feet sinking into the damp earth, and his breathing growing heavier with the effort.
Nora moved into his path. “Christian.”
He stepped around her.
A chill swept through her that had nothing to do with the cold.
She caught his arm. His whole body jerked beneath her hand as she tightened her grip. “Christian, wake up. It’s Nora.”
He spun toward her, eyes suddenly wide. The rock slipped from his hand and struck the ground with a dull thud.
Terror flashed across his face before recognition slowly replaced it.
“Nora?” His voice sounded younger than it had inside the house.
She loosened her grip but didn’t release him. “Yeah, it’s me.”
Christian looked around at the dark yard, the trees ahead of him, and the two small piles of rocks. Austin stood several yards behind them, ready to move closer if Nora needed him.
Christian’s face tightened. “What happened?”
“You came downstairs and walked outside.” She rubbed one hand along his arm, trying to warm skin that had already gone cold. “Then you started moving rocks.”
His gaze snapped toward the pile behind her.
“Do you remember any of that?” Nora asked.
He shook his head, still staring at the rocks. “No, I must have been dreaming.”
“About what?”
“I don’t know.” His answer came too quickly. Christian dragged a hand over his face before adding, “I thought I heard something, but I don’t remember.”
Nora studied him. “You said, ‘Sinner, come home.’”
His gaze jerked toward hers. For an instant, the fear returned. “I said that?”
“Yes.”
Christian rubbed both hands over his arms. “I don’t know why.”
“What about the rocks?” she asked. “Have you done anything like that before?”
His body went still. Then he shook his head. “No. I . . . I don’t think so.”
Maybe he truly didn’t remember. But something in the way he avoided looking at the woods—or the rocks he’d moved—made Nora think he knew more than he could bring himself to say.
“Come inside,” she said.
Christian went with her without arguing, his steps quickening as they crossed the yard. Austin waited until they passed him before following.
Nora kept one hand on Christian’s arm as she led him into the kitchen. The words from the hymnal page followed her inside.
Someone had underlined a call to come home.
Less than two hours later, Christian had walked toward the woods as if answering it—and begun carrying rocks from one pile to another for a reason buried somewhere he refused to remember.
That wasn’t a coincidence.
Austin had interviewed sleepwalkers before. He’d seen people wake in strange places, do bizarre things, and insist afterward that they remembered nothing.
This felt different. Maybe because Christian had looked straight through Nora. Maybe because he’d walked barefoot without flinching.
Or maybe because of the words he’d whispered.
Sinner, come home.
Austin followed them inside and locked the back door.
Christian stood near the kitchen table, his bare feet leaving damp marks on the floor. Nora wrapped a throw around his shoulders and warmed a mug of water in the microwave.
“Sit down,” she told him. “You’re freezing.”
Christian lowered himself into the chair closest to the stove and curled both hands around the mug. His gaze moved briefly to Austin before dropping to the table.
Austin stayed near the counter, giving him space. The kid looked embarrassed now, but Austin had seen the terror on his face when he woke.
“Do you remember getting out of bed?” Nora asked.
Christian shook his head. “No.”
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
“Going upstairs. I got in bed and fell asleep.”
“You said something outside. You said, ‘Sinner, come home.’”
Christian looked at her over the rim of the mug but said nothing.
“Were you dreaming?”
“Maybe.” Christian shifted beneath the blanket. “I already told you I don’t remember.”
“Okay.” Nora straightened. “I’m not trying to upset you.”
Christian pushed his chair away from the table. “Can I go back upstairs?”
Nora handed him a dish towel. “Dry your feet first. I don’t want mud all over the stairs.”
A motion almost resembling a smile touched his mouth. He wiped his feet, then stood with the blanket still around his shoulders.
“I’m leaving the hall light on,” Nora told him. “If you wake up again, call for me before you get out of bed.”
Christian nodded and headed upstairs. Austin listened until his footsteps reached the second floor and a door closed.
Nora wiped away the remaining damp footprints. “Don’t say it.”
“That wasn’t random wandering.”
She stopped wiping. “He was sleepwalking.”
“I think he was too. But he didn’t drift around the house. He came downstairs, opened the door, and walked straight toward the trees.”
“You think he knew where he was going?”
“Not consciously. But something in the dream seemed to give him a destination.”
Nora glanced toward the hallway. “The last time Wren found him, he was digging beside the barn. I’ve found him in the kitchen and near the back door, but he’s never gone beyond the yard before.”
Austin looked at the empty place on the table where the hymnal page had been.
Nora crossed her arms. “Say whatever you’re thinking.”
“I think you need alarms on the doors tonight.”
Her posture stiffened. “You think he’s going to run away?”
“I think he walked outside barefoot at eleven o’clock and headed toward the woods. I don’t want him making it past that door again without someone waking up.”
“I don’t want him to feel like we’re trapping him.”
“Then don’t lock him in. Hang something over the doorknobs that will make noise and sleep downstairs.” Austin glanced at the dark window. “This is about keeping him safe until we understand what happened.”
After a moment, she nodded. “I can do that.”
Austin checked the time. Nearly midnight. He should return to his motel, call Luke, and try to get a few hours of sleep.
Instead, he carried his mug to the sink and rinsed it.
Nora watched him. “You’re staying?”
“For a while. At least until I’m sure he’s settled.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” Austin set the mug in the sink. This time, Nora didn’t argue.