Chapter 8
Eight
“PEN,” IZ SAID, moving to her side. “We’re safe.”
Pen’s gaze darted about, pinging from one side of the room to the other. “How do you know? Have you checked the house?”
“I’ll check the house,” Joel said. “I need to take count of the supplies anyway.”
“I already did that,” Heath said, then shrugged. “For the most part.”
“Did you check the cellar?” Or behind the walls?
Although, he wasn’t adding that little tidbit about the lodge now.
It’d only freak Penelope out further to know there were passageways built behind the walls.
Originally to hide servants from the guests’ view until that became an outdated notion, then they just sat empty until he and his siblings terrorized each other playing hide-and-seek in the maze of tunnels.
“Besides the slasher possibility, I’m freezing.” Penelope rubbed her arms faster.
Valid point. “Any sign of firewood?” Joel asked, scanning the room.
“Not in here,” Heath said, “but we should check the outer buildings. I saw several from the side and back porches.”
“Good idea but go out in pairs. We don’t want anyone by themselves getting turned around or lost.”
“Got it,” Heath said. “Here.” He handed Joel the lantern. “I’ll head out with Devon, and he’s got a working flashlight.”
“Absolutely.” Devon got to his feet.
Brady stood up. “Who’s pairing up with me?”
“I’ll go,” Lyle said, to everyone’s surprise.
Joel expected Lyle to weasel out of looking. The guy didn’t mix with adventure or even the outdoors. He looked like a bug pincushion every Fourth of July cookout. But he followed close on Brady’s heels as they exited the parlor.
“I’ll go—” Jayce started.
“Why don’t you stay here and keep everyone . . .” Safe. “Good.”
“Roger that.” Jayce took a seat in the chair beside Mia, her leg now sutured up.
“Good job.” Joel shoulder-bumped Cassie with a twinge of a smile.
“Thanks.” She smiled back.
“What about us?” Talbot asked, indicating himself and Scott.
“You two take the garages on the east side of the house.”
“On it.” Talbot and Scott nodded in near unison.
“Oh, wait. Hey, guys,” Joel yelled, rushing into the hall, grabbing the dudes before they exited. “Watch out for the wolves, especially now you’re in lower numbers. And stay on this side of their den.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem with the shed locations,” Devon said.
“You guys be safe. While you’re out in them, I’ll search inside for supplies.”
“And canoodle with Cassie,” Heath chuckled, using air quotes.
Was the guy twelve or outright mocking him? He and Cassie were clearly not together, as painful as it was to admit. “Excuse me?”
“I saw that look between you two.”
What look? Had there been a look when he’d said ‘good job’?”
“Let’s go.” Brady yanked Heath by the jacket collar, and out the door the four guys went.
Joel headed back to the parlor as a bracing draft swooped in upon the guys’ exit.
“Close the door. It’s freezing, remember?” Penelope gripped a thin throw blanket around her shoulders and sat in the burgundy armchair.
When he was a kid in that very chair, he’d thought he was so grown up at afternoon tea, but his feet couldn’t even touch the floor.
He’d always wanted to bring Cassie here with it playing such a large part in his childhood adventures, but Stan had built the new lodge before they got together two years ago—a year together and now a year apart, but he couldn’t dwell on that.
Though once they made it safely out of this—and they would; he’d see to that with everything in him—he had to tell her how he felt.
He’d nearly lost her again today. Nearly lost the chance to say I love you one last time.
Even if nothing had changed on her end .
. . he needed to let her know. He wasn’t going to live with regrets any longer.
A bang nailed the window by Penelope’s head. She swung around on a jump and screamed.
Heath stood at the window with the lantern eerily lighting up his face, and a snarl across his features.
Her scream continued, and Heath cracked up.
“Not cool, dude,” Devon hollered from behind him. “Come on, we have a job to do.”
“What? It was funny.” He waved and stepped off the porch and back into the fierce blizzard.
Cassie stood up, wobbled, but regained her balance.
“What are you doing?” She should be in the chair with her leg propped up.
“Going with you to search the house.”
“That’s thoughtful of you”—and he’d cherish any alone time with Cassie no matter how it was spent—“but I should check out your leg, then you should rest.”
“It’s fine. Well . . .” She scrunched her lips in that thinking way of hers. “Not fine, but it’s just a twisted knee. It hurts, but if I balance right and hold on to rails, I’ll be good to go. It beats just sitting and waiting around.”
“All right.” Sitting and waiting wasn’t in Cassie’s wheelhouse. “But let me take a look first.”
She exhaled. “Fine.”
He smirked at her stubbornness. It should annoy him but, heaven help him, he still found it adorable.
Taking off her boots, he gripped her wet socks. “This isn’t good.”
“We get a fire going, we can hang them by it. Besides, I’m sure everyone is in the same boat.”
He peeled the sock down, expecting terrible frostbite, but there was just the first hint of it.
She leaned forward. “I appreciate your concern, really I do, but until we get a fire going or a way to heat up warm water for our feet, the best thing we can do is keep moving.”
He hated to admit it, but she was right, and the smirk on her face said she knew it. Man, she lit a fire in him. He was never more alive than in her presence, but soon this adventure would end, and she’d be back out of his life.
But with her stalker gone . . . Sheriff Gonzales checked in with him often.
A weekly call. Fifty-two weeks and no sign of the stalker.
She was finally free. Maybe now that fear and stress weren’t a part of their daily lives, they could begin again.
Had that been it? Because he really had zero clue why she left.
“Ready?” she said, limping for the door.
“Whoa! Let’s at least get you something to lean on.” He scanned the room. Nothing that would work. “Okay. We’ll look for something, but I want you to lean against me until we find you something stable.”
“Okay.”
Was that a smile on her face?
Entering the shed, I slipped inside—Brady too preoccupied to notice. I waited, observing. Thinking how easily the knife in my hand would slice into him. But only if necessary.
He moved along the work benches. So far, safe. The annoying fool whistled while he worked. What was he, a dwarf?
Trying to block out the noise, I slipped farther back between the two metal shelf racks disguised in darkness. Brady moved, striding mere feet away. People were so oblivious.
Cassie, her ex, and the cops still had no clue how I moved so easily in and out of her place. If you knew a few techniques, it was as easy as slicing pie . . . or Brady, if he got much closer.
My muscles coiled, heat rushing through them.
Brady moved for it.
Don’t do it.
The fool lifted the cover off. He’d seen my exit strategy. Night night for Brady.
I stepped from the shadows and moved behind him. They’d said it was hard slitting a throat, but I had it in me. I always had.