Page 64 of Our Little Secret

Her underwear had gone missing.

Her heart was racing, her pulse thundering. Could he have somehow lifted her keys and made a copy when she hadn’t been aware of it? But when? Frantically, she dug into her purse, found her set of keys, and identified the one to her house. She told herself she was grasping at straws.

Or was she?

He knew that she usually came in through the garage, with its automatic opener. Her key could have been off the ring for days, or weeks, and she wouldn’t have noticed.

She started to hyperventilate, thinking how her life was destroyed, how he’d invaded every part of it. Nothing was sacred! No, no—

Get a grip!

Don’t freak out.

You can’t lose it!

Leah and Marilee are downstairs, and Neal . . .

Neal!

She froze.

Hadn’t he been the one who sent her up here looking for Neosporin? Could her husband have found out the truth and decided to tease her, to gaslight her by leaving the bracelet on the bureau?

Neal was upstairs earlier.

Or what about Marilee? She was alone on this upper floor. Brooke had assumed her daughter was spending time in her own room, but maybe she’d found the bracelet earlier, even days ago, and sneaked into the room.

No, no. That was crazy. Marilee wouldn’t even be paying attention.

Her mind went to her sister. Leah was alone in the kitchen when the adjuster was with Neal and Brooke. And she was upstairs. Could Leah have gone onto the deck and somehow found the bracelet? If so, why wouldn’t she have mentioned it? Would she know the significance of this one piece of jewelry?

No.

None of Brooke’s thoughts made any sense. So how had this happened? Her mind raced. Who had planted the bracelet on the dresser? As if to answer her question, she was sure she heard the sound of a motorcycle’s engine revving in the distance. Then, when she listened more intently, she was certain she was mistaken.

Gideon hadn’t been here.

Couldn’t have sneaked into the house.

Right?

Frantically, she let her gaze scour the room as she turned in a slow, wide circle. He could have climbed in! Slipped inside and climbed up the back stairs? The ones they never used? Or scaled the exterior somehow; the drainpipe maybe? Hadn’t she seen him scurry up the mast of his sailboat, perching high above her and looking down, laughing at her for her obvious concern. “Don’t worry,” he’d yelled, the sharp, salty breeze whipping his windbreaker and tossing his hair over his eyes. “I do it all the time.”

Her stomach dropped.

The skin on the back of her arms pimpled.

All of a sudden she was back to her original fear: He’d been here.

In this room.

Watching as she and Neal—

“Hey! Dinner’s on!” Neal’s voice boomed up the stairs.

She nearly screamed.

Hastily, she stuffed the bracelet into her pocket, nearly ripping off her recently applied Band-Aid.

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