Chapter 51
chapter
fifty-one
Millie waited as Caleb closed the distance between them and paused in front of her. She could clearly see the concern in his gaze and the tension across his chest.
He stepped closer and lowered his voice to an almost intimate level. “You okay?”
She nodded slowly. “Thanks to you.”
“I’m glad I got there when I did.”
They stared at each other a moment, unspoken conversations lingering between them.
But instead of having them here and now, he touched her arm. “It’s cold out here. Let’s get you inside. We can talk more later.”
She nodded in agreement.
Millie stepped through the side door, Caleb close behind her, and she had to blink against the bright lights in the kitchen. Everything looked the same—the clean counters, the neatly arranged barstools, the coffee maker still half-full from earlier.
Like nothing had happened.
Like she hadn’t just faced her worst fears in the woods behind the property.
The disconnect made her dizzy.
“Millie!” Naomi rushed from the couch and pulled her into a fierce hug. “I was so worried. When Max told me what was happening—”
“I’m okay,” Millie insisted, though her voice came out hoarse and unconvincing.
Naomi pulled back, her hands gripping Millie’s shoulders as she searched her face. Her gaze lingered on the bruises already darkening on Millie’s throat.
“You’re not okay,” Naomi said. “But you’re alive. And that’s what matters right now.”
Millie managed a weak smile. “Yes, I’m alive.”
“This place was never supposed to turn into this.” Naomi said. “It was supposed to be a place of refuge.”
“I’m sure when Sarah had plans of making it a bed-and-breakfast, she never guessed it had an even more powerful use,” Millie said.
Caleb paused. “Did I tell you that?”
Millie stared up at him. “Tell me what?”
“That Sarah wanted to make this place a bed-and-breakfast?”
She searched her thoughts before shaking her head. “I’m not sure. Someone mentioned it. Why?”
He shook his head as if brushing off the thought. “It’s probably nothing. I just don’t mention that to our guests. Not usually.”
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Sissy appeared in the doorway, one hand pressed to her swollen belly, her face pale with concern. “Millie . . . are you—? Is everything—?”
“I’m fine,” Millie insisted. “You shouldn’t be up. You should be resting.”
Caleb edged closer to her, almost as if he feared her legs might give out.
She didn’t mind his concern and attention. It felt good to know someone was looking out for her.
“I couldn’t rest. Not with everything happening.” Sissy moved closer, her eyes wide and frightened.
“It’s safe now,” Caleb murmured.
Relief flooded Sissy’s face. “I was so scared for you when I realized what was happening.”
The younger woman looked genuinely distressed—her hands trembling slightly, her breathing shallow.
A pregnant woman shouldn’t be dealing with this kind of stress. It wasn’t good for her or the baby.
“You should sit down,” Millie said. “Please. I don’t want you going into early labor because of all this.”
Sissy nodded and lowered herself carefully into one of the kitchen chairs. Georgie immediately jumped into her lap, and she stroked the little dog’s fur with shaking hands.
Naomi moved to the stove. “I’ll make tea. Warm drinks always make everything better.”
As she busied herself with the kettle, Millie sank onto one of the barstools, suddenly exhausted as the adrenaline started to fade.
Caleb lingered close.
Biscuit pressed against her legs, and she reached down to touch his head.
For the first time in what seemed like forever, normal seemed within reach.
But there was still something niggling at the back of Millie’s mind. Something that didn’t fit.
She thought about the night the dogs had gotten loose. About how all the kennels had been opened, creating chaos.
About the cameras that had been vandalized.
About how Biscuit had gotten out of her room earlier today.
Too many things going wrong at convenient times.
Too many coincidences.
Millie began to piece together fragments.
Sissy had been here for a month, longer than anyone else currently staying at the shelter.
Sissy asked a lot of questions. About the property. About security. About how things worked.
Sissy was always around but never quite present. Quiet. Observant.
Millie’s hands tightened around the edge of the counter.
What lingered beneath that quiet exterior?
No, she couldn’t think like that. Trauma was making her suspicious of everyone.
Sissy was just a scared young woman having a baby. She was a victim, just like Millie.
But the thought wouldn’t leave.
And Millie couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all missing something important.
Caleb watched Millie from across the kitchen, his trained eye catching the subtle shift in her posture.
She’d gone still. Too still.
Her gaze had fixed on something—or someone—and her expression had changed.
He followed her line of sight to Sissy.
Then he looked back at Millie.
Something was bothering her.
Something was bothering him also. Millie’s mention of the bed-and-breakfast. How had she known that? He didn’t usually mention it.
It was probably nothing . . . but he couldn’t stop thinking about it.
“Millie,” he said. “Can we talk? Alone?”
Her eyes lifted to his, and relief flickered there, almost as if she’d been waiting for an opening.
“Sure. That would be good.”
“I’ll stay here with Sissy,” Naomi said. “You two take your time.”
Caleb led Millie down the hall to the office, closing the door behind them.
The moment they were alone, the tension in Millie’s shoulders seemed to intensify rather than ease.
She moved to the center of the room and turned to face him, her arms wrapped around herself.
“What’s wrong?” Caleb asked. “And don’t say nothing. I can see something’s bothering you.”
Millie glanced at the closed door, then lowered her voice. “I might be crazy. Or paranoid. Or both. But there are things that still don’t make sense.”
“Like what?”
She took a breath. “Like how Biscuit got out tonight. I know I closed my bedroom door before I got in the shower. I always close it. And even if I hadn’t, Biscuit couldn’t have opened the back door himself. Someone had to let him out.”
“Okay. What else?”
“And the dogs getting loose a few nights ago. That wasn’t an accident. Someone did that deliberately.”
“We assumed it was Valentina or Garrick—”
“But what if it wasn’t?” Millie’s eyes were intense now. “What if whoever opened those kennels is still here? And someone was messing around with the security cameras . . .”
The implications hit Caleb like a physical blow.
His eyes widened. “What are you saying?”
Millie hesitated, conflict clear on her face. “I don’t know what I’m saying. I might be completely wrong. But—”
“You think Sissy might be behind this?” The words came out sharper than he intended.
“I don’t want to accuse her if she’s innocent,” Millie said quickly. “But think about it, Caleb. She’s been here longer than anyone. She has access to the property. She knows the routines, the security codes—”
“She’s eight months pregnant and terrified.”
“I know. I know that.” Millie pressed her fingers to her temples. “Which is why I feel terrible even thinking this. But what if that’s exactly the cover someone would use? Who would suspect a pregnant woman?”
“I don’t know . . .”
“Plus, someone let Biscuit out of the house. I think . . . I think he sensed Garrick was close. I had my window cracked open. So he got out and ran after Garrick. That’s why I was in the woods. I was chasing him. Sissy’s the only one who could have done that.”
Caleb’s mind reeled.
Sissy had seemed so genuine. So vulnerable. The idea that she might be working against them—
But Millie’s points were valid. Too many things had gone wrong. Too many security breaches at convenient times.
“So what are you proposing?” he asked.
Millie met his gaze. “I’m proposing we watch her. Carefully. See if anything else doesn’t add up.” She paused. “And maybe we should ask the sheriff to look into her background. Verify her story.”
Caleb nodded. “Without her knowing we’re doing it.”
“Exactly. Because if I’m wrong—if this is just my paranoia talking—I don’t want to traumatize a woman who’s already been through a living nightmare.”
“But if you’re right—”
“Then we need to know what we’re dealing with before she does any more damage.”
Silence fell between them.
Caleb’s protective instincts warred with his training. His desire to see the best in people clashed with the cold reality that not everyone who came to Refuge Cove came with pure intentions.
“Okay,” he said finally. “We’ll look into it. Quietly. Carefully.”
Millie’s shoulders sagged with relief. “Thank you for not thinking I’m crazy.”
“I don’t think you’re crazy. I think you’re smart. And observant. And after everything you’ve been through, your instincts are probably sharper than mine right now.” He moved closer. “We’ll figure this out. Together.”
She nodded, but the worry didn’t leave her eyes.
And as Caleb looked at her standing there—bruised, exhausted, still thinking about everyone’s safety even after nearly being killed—he realized something.
Whatever had been set in motion at Refuge Cove wasn’t over yet.
The danger Millie sensed might not be paranoia at all.
It might be the truth they’d all been too distracted to see.