Page 81 of Rules to Love By

Eli ran his fingertips over the tarnished brass handle of the front entrance. “What happened to you?”

Of course the building didn’t answer, and Eli curled his fingers around the cool metal. “I’ll get him back here. Somehow.” Which was, of course, a ridiculous promise to make, even if he was making it to an empty building. It implied he had any control over Marcus’s decisions or what he did with his life.

“Wishful thinking.” He let his fingers trail over the padlocked chains holding the door closed. They made a hollow clanking sound against the plywood. Ridiculous promise? Maybe. But he couldn’t bring himself to take it back.

Retreating across the sidewalk to the curb, he craned his neck to gaze at the upper-story windows. The top of the building disappeared into the dark, out of the reach of the streetlights. As he watched, a dim blue glow came and went in one third-story window.

“The hell?”

The light shifted, its soft shine flitting around the lower edges of the frame as though someone moved about the room. But aside from that window being slightly brighter than the rest, nothing else happened. No figure conveniently silhouetted itself in the faded blue square of illumination. No other lights came on. No one else appeared on the street.

After a few minutes, the light disappeared. Eli waited and watched, but it didn’t reappear in any other window. He was on the verge of giving up and going home when a shadow moved at the far side of the building where a narrow alley emerged under another still-orange streetlight. He watched the tall form as it slipped out to the sidewalk, paused, then hurried away.

That all seemed like something he should tell someone. But from this distance, he couldn’t identify anything. Maybe the person was male. Maybe he’d come from the back of the diner. Maybe he’d been sleeping in the alley. Maybe he’d ducked back there to take a piss.

Or maybe it had all been in his head. The light had been so faint. Could have been headlights reflecting off the window. The shadowy form could have been shifting patterns of light and dark under the trees. There was nothing to report.

“You trying to tell me something?” he asked no one except maybe the building.

If he’d learned anything growing up in Griffon’s Elbow, it was that buildings could be notoriously cryptic. So if he got an answer, it wasn’t one he recognized. If he’d learned anything in the city, it was that expecting a building to be more than an inanimate pile of construction materials wasn’t exactly regular.

But he had grown up in Griffon’s Elbow, so he did expect a response. It was disconcerting to get nothing. However, if he stood in the street much longer, looking like he was casing the place, he would get a typically city response from the cops, so he stuffed his hands into his pockets and moved away.

He’d only gone half a block before he pulled out his phone. Whatever he’d seen—a real-life interloper sneaking around inside the building, or some kind of light display put on by the house for his benefit, trying to tell him something he didn’t understand, or hell, a figment of his own imagination, he had the nagging feeling he needed to tell someone.

The only logical person for him to tell was Marcus. He didn’t relish the idea of trying to explain the nebulous possibility of a trespasser to the police, and he didn’t know anyone else who would care about the Egg Basket.

So he dialed the B and B and waited for someone to answer.

Lucky picked up his call. Because of course he did, approaching the middle of the night when Tris and Kreed had to get up at oh dark thirty to prep for the morning coffee rush. A chill went through Eli when Lucky’s voice changed from innkeeper cheerful to flat as soon as he realized who had called.

“I’m really sorry it’s so late. I was actually hoping to catch Marcus.”

“Yeah, well. Aren’t we all.”

“Sorry?”

Lucky sighed. “He isn’t here. I guess we sort of assumed he was with you.”

“Why would he be?”

“According to Kreed, he was in our kitchen for a late supper, then he borrowed the scooter to take a spin and clear his head. That was hours ago, and he’s not back, and neither is the bike.”

In the background, a voice piped up asking for the phone, and Lucky huffed.

“Hang on, Eli. Tris wants to talk to you.”

“Sure.”

“Eli?” Tris’s voice was high and tight, like it got when he was stressed or anxious. It occurred to Eli that Tris was hanging out at the Oaks well past when he would normally have gone home.

“Yeah.”

“So, Marcus never called you?”

“Hang on. Imma put you on Speaker.” He did so he could check his recent calls list. He found only his boss, his father and Jessie. “He didn’t call.” He flipped to his messages, but again, found no text from any numbers he didn’t recognize. “No texts, either.” He took the phone off Speaker and put it back to his ear. “What’s going on?”

“So, we sort of had a fight earlier.”

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