Chapter 18
Chapter
Eighteen
Wren found her sisters—and Bo—in the kitchen when she and Mason got back from practice. The two of them were sitting at the table, neither one talking.
Bo sat beside Nora’s chair chewing something.
Nora glanced down and gaped. “Is that my oven mitt?”
Bo froze.
“Goblin.” She scowled before snatching the oven mitt from him and taking it to the counter.
“I’ll buy you a new one.” Wren had to say things like that entirely more often than she’d like.
“Don’t worry about it. We have bigger issues right now.” Nora sighed.
As Mason ran to pet Bo, Bo greeted him with enough enthusiasm to knock Mason onto his backside.
Mason laughed and shoved at his chest. “Dude!”
“Christian’s asleep already.” Nora dropped back into her seat. “He’s clearly exhausted.”
Wren deposited her keys on the counter, reality hitting her again. “That’s good. He needs to sleep.”
“Why’s Mason still here?” Marlowe asked. “I thought this was Cody’s weekend to have him.”
Marlowe had never been a huge fan of Cody. “It turns out they’re short-staffed down at the station, and they asked him to work. I said it was fine.”
“That’s nice of you.” That wasn’t quite sincerity in Marlowe’s words, however.
Marlowe still counted from the beginning. Five years of Wren raising Mason alone, and then Cody deciding he wanted in. He’d been good recently. Marlowe just hadn’t agreed to start the clock over.
“I keep thinking we need to call somebody tonight.” Nora shifted in her seat. “The FBI, or figure out the DNA test, or—something. It feels wrong to just go to bed.”
“It also feels wrong to make a decision like that when none of us can think straight.” Wren pulled a chair out and sat. “I can barely remember what I ate for lunch. I think I skipped dinner. I don’t trust myself to decide anything that matters right now.”
Marlowe wrapped both hands around her mug, her eyes a little brighter. “So we wait? You’re actually listening to my opinion on this?”
“No one is winning in this situation,” Nora said.
“I didn’t say I was winning. It just feels nice to be listened to.”
Wren didn’t want to deal with this right now—not on top of everything else.
“Just until morning.” Wren looked between her sisters. “We’ve waited this long already. One night isn’t going to undo anything. I want to make the right decisions.”
Nora exhaled, some of the tension easing out of her shoulders. “Fine. Tomorrow. That’s when we can make a plan.”
“Tomorrow.” Wren leaned toward Nora. “Are you okay with Christian staying here tonight? I know it’s a lot, having him in the house.”
“He’s my brother.” Nora said the words simply as if the question answered itself. “Of course, he’s staying here.”
“I’m going to stay here too,” Marlowe added. “I don’t feel right leaving Nora alone with all of this.”
Something in Wren’s chest loosened at that. “Okay. Good.”
She herded Mason off the couch and toward the door. Bo followed behind them.
“Text me if anything happens,” she said. “Anything at all.”
“We will.” Nora walked her to the door. “Get some sleep, Wren.”
Tomorrow, they’d have clearer heads. Tomorrow, they’d know what to do.
At least, that was what she hoped.
Wren slipped her key into the deadbolt, bracing herself for the resistance that was always there. She really needed to have someone look at her lock, but it was far down on her to-do list right now.
However, the resistance didn’t come. The key turned clean, no catch, nothing to fight against.
It was already unlocked, she realized.
She went still with her hand on the knob.
She always locked the deadbolt. Always.
With everything that had happened today, had she forgotten? She supposed it was a possibility.
Mason didn’t notice her unease. He ducked past her legs the second the door gave, Bo at his heels. Both of them were already halfway to the hall before she’d even stepped inside.
“Night, Mom,” Mason called over his shoulder, his gear bag forgotten by the door.
“Night, Bug. Don’t forget to take a shower before you go to bed. You’re sweaty from practice.”
“I will. I love you!”
“Love you too!”
Wren stood in the doorway a moment longer, running the day back through her head.
She hadn’t forgotten the lock. She felt sure of it.
By the time she made it to the kitchen, Bo had abandoned Mason and was back at her side. He sniffed at the base of the back door before he went still, a low sound building in his chest that wasn’t quite a growl.
Alarm rang through her.
“Hey.” She crouched beside him. “What is it, boy?”
His nose continued working the air near the doorframe, his ears pinned back.
Did the dog smell something she couldn’t? Maybe an unwelcome visitor who’d been in and out while she was gone?
Or . . . what if this person hadn’t left?
Her limbs went stiff.
Wren forced herself to walk the cabin—every room, every closet, every dark space.
Nothing was missing. Nothing was out of place that she could see. The windows were all latched.
If someone had broken into her cabin, someone would have noticed. Right? Bo would have reacted.
Maybe the lock hadn’t caught earlier. That was probably it.
She wanted to believe that. She almost did.
So what had Bo been sniffing?
Suddenly, her safe place didn’t feel quite as safe.
Wren decided to forgo her bed. Instead, she got a blanket and stretched out on the narrow couch, where she could see the door.
Then she prayed sleep would find her.