Chapter 22
Chapter
Twenty-Two
Lunch was chicken tenders and chips. Christian had woken up, and he’d been quiet as he’d eaten with them.
They’d asked him if he’d remembered anything new.
He’d said no.
So, for now, they let him eat.
“This is good,” Christian said as he practically inhaled his chicken. “I don’t know the last time I had these. They’re delicious.”
“I’m glad you like them,” Nora said.
He ate for another few minutes before he set the tender on his plate. Then he looked at each of them, something hardening in his gaze.
“I want to see Mom and Dad,” he announced. “Are you going to let me do that today?”
The sisters all exchanged glances as the table went still.
“Today?” Nora repeated, probably just to buy time.
“Yes. I miss them. Please.” Christian pushed his plate away. “I don’t understand why you’re keeping me from them.”
“We’re not trying to keep you from them,” Wren said. “It’s just a delicate situation. They went through a lot.”
“And you’re not sure if I’m really your brother?” There was almost accusation in his gaze.
“I didn’t say that,” Wren quickly told him.
“You have to understand that this is hard for us also,” Nora added.
Marlowe raised her chin. “But I believe you.”
“I didn’t say I didn’t believe him—” Wren started.
“But you don’t, do you?” Christian turned toward her, hurt in his gaze. “That’s the truth, isn’t it?”
Wren opened her mouth, trying to find the words. But none came. She didn’t want to lie.
Her phone rang, and Cody’s name appeared on the screen. Part of her felt relieved for the interruption. “Sorry. I need to take this.”
She hurried down the hall, where she’d be out of earshot.
“Hey,” she answered.
“Hey,” Cody said. “Can I swing by and pick up Mason? Last night was crazy with finding Roy. Then there was a car accident. Anyway, I told them I couldn’t work today. I can be there in about an hour to get Mason, if that works.”
“An hour’s fine.” She glanced back at the kitchen and everyone sitting at the table. “Actually, that’s good. That’s—yeah. That’s good.”
It was better if Mason wasn’t here for all of this. Plus . . . she had questions that had been nagging her. Questions that she didn’t want to sit on any longer.
She’d meant what she said earlier. She was tired of not doing anything and just waiting.
They weren’t going to move forward by doing nothing.
“Perfect,” Cody said. “See you soon.”
She ended the call and stood in the hallway another moment. She listened to the low murmur of conversation in the kitchen, though she couldn’t make out any of the words. Maybe some of the tension had eased. She hoped.
Roy’s death lingered in her mind.
She wanted more answers.
She needed more answers—especially if she was going to sleep at night.
But she didn’t know yet what that meant, only that she couldn’t do it alone—not the asking-around part, at least. She needed someone who knew how to investigate.
In other words, she needed Nash.
Mason had planted himself on the porch steps with Bo, watching the driveway the way he watched the clock before Christmas morning.
“Dad’s coming,” he told the dog as if Bo needed the briefing. “I wish you could come too.”
Wren stood on the front porch behind him, her arms crossed against the afternoon chill. She let herself have one uncomplicated minute of just watching her son wait for his father. It was easier than to think about whatever else the day had in store for her.
Marlowe joined her, and Christian trailed a step behind, his hands in his pockets.
“How much longer till Cody gets here?” Marlowe asked.
“He said an hour. That was forty minutes ago.” Wren checked her phone out of habit, though nothing had changed since the last time she’d looked.
A car appeared at the end of their drive, and Mason was immediately on his feet. Bo rose and began barking a half-second behind him.
“That’s not Dad’s truck,” Mason muttered.
Wren stepped closer to Mason and put her arm around his shoulders. He leaned into her side and watched the sedan roll to a stop at the top of the drive.
As she waited, she felt someone’s gaze on her and looked up.
Christian.
He wasn’t looking at the car. He was staring at her, with her arm around Mason.
Something crossed his face, gone before she could pin it down. A wave of guilt washed over her.
Maybe she should be embracing him. Maybe she shouldn’t be so cautious around him. Maybe she should ignore all the questions pummeling her.
But she couldn’t.
“Who is that?” Christian asked, his voice low as he nodded toward their visitor.
Wren turned back to the car. She didn’t recognize it. “I don’t know.”
“Were you expecting anyone?” Marlowe asked.
“Not me,” Wren said.
They all stared, almost as if each of them expected bad news.
The driver’s door opened. A tall, well-dressed man climbed out, his suit jacket draped across his arm. He looked up with mild uncertainty as he studied the small crowd gathered on the porch.
Behind them, the screen door banged open, and Nora stepped outside. “Jacob . . .”
Jacob? Wren mused. Who was Jacob?
Nora hurried toward the man, touched his arm, and murmured something to him.
Then she turned toward the others with a rueful smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend.”