Page 75 of Last Seen
“I really want you to get out of there. I want to come get you.”
She thinks about that for a minute. To be rescued. To need rescuing. There is some comfort in the idea, and of course, allowing Theo tocome might save their marriage. But the cold, hard reality is, things are not good between them, and though he might be trying now, it’s awfully late. She’s still furious at him, and scared, and this is not a good place to be making decisions. There will be no knight in shining armor to come save her at the end of the day, when things get hard, when she becomes a target. She has to save herself first.
“That’s very romantic, Theo. I appreciate it.”
His tone shifts, cooling. “I’m serious.”
“I know you are. Seriously. I think the sheriff just wants to make sure I’m not going to be making waves. Bad press for their idyllic little town, that sort of thing. I think I have what I need from here anyway. The minute he gives me my keys, I’m gone.”
“And why did he take your keys, might I ask?”
“For my safety, he says.”
“No. Stop right there. I am on my way.”
“May I remind you that you’re in Texas? You have responsibilities, and so do I. I’m fine. No one’s getting in this room. I took precautions.”
“I assume he took your gun, too?”
“Yes.”
“So you’re under house arrest unarmed, in a strange town that your sister disappeared from. Halley. You’re being incredibly reckless. You aren’t showing the appropriate amount of concern here. None of this is kosher.”
Her confidence begins to lag, and her anger rises. “What would you have me do, Theo? The man has my keys and my weapon, and I’m stashed away in this weird inn for the night. In a few hours, he’ll escort me out of town, with admonishments not to come back. Watch.”
“I do not like this. Not at all.”
She doesn’t tell him about the younger brother’s concern that she needs an escort, or any of the other strange things. He’s tuned up enough already.
“Listen. If you’re that worried, get someone from a local agency to come. You absolutely can’t leave your post. But I am fine. I swear. I’llbe out of here in the morning, and when you get home ... we can talk. Now is not the time. Okay?”
She can hear him breathing. Weighing the options. He knows she’s right, he knows he can’t just run off. That he’s offered—twice—is something they’re going to have to talk about. She knows he means well, but it’s stifling. She doesn’t need saving.
Finally, he sighs. “You will call if you need help?”
“You know I will. And I’ll call the local cops, too. I’m not an idiot, Theo. Now I have to get some sleep. It’s been a really, really long day. Talk soon. I promise.”
She hangs up before he can protest anymore. She already feels dumb enough for getting in over her head. Having him point it out to her again and again isn’t helping. The push-pull of loving him and hating him is wearing on her, too.
She tries to watch TV to distract herself, but every squeak and clank makes her tense. She finally puts on the Golf Channel and is having the nightmare about Elvis, the blood pouring from his fuzzy neck, but she’s not totally asleep and knows she’s dreaming when she hears a rhythmic knocking. It’s coming from outside.
Ping.
Ping.
Ping.
She is fully awake now. Something is hitting her window.
She moves to the frame carefully, lifts the edge of the curtain.
A man is standing below. Noah Brockton. Throwing rocks at the glass.
He sees her looking and waves, miming for her to open the window.
She tries a few times before she can get the old crank to turn. The air meanders in, cool, soft, with a hint of pine and rain. She is surprised to realize it smells like home.
“Can I come up?” he stage-whispers, moving toward the huge oak tree that she’s just now noticing has a thick branch that would make climbing to her window a piece of cake.
