Page 3 of Risk It All
Charlie grinned around her bite of banana, conceding the point without saying a word.
Zipping her backpack, Cara hauled it over her shoulder and glanced at the time on her phone. “Got to get to class. And it’s your turn.”
“My turn for what?”
“Getting groceries. Don’t bring home only junk this time, or Felicity will make you run extra laps.” Cara headed for the door as her twin gave a dramatic groan.
“Fine, but I’m still getting Lucky Charms.”
“It’s your funeral,” Cara called, stepping outside and closing the door behind her, rather proud that she’d managed to wiggle out of what could’ve been an awkward conversation. As she headed toward where her car was parked in the driveway, she felt an uneasy prickle on the back of her neck.
She was being watched.
Trying to look casual, she glanced down the street, but there weren’t any parked cars in sight. Her gaze roamed over the neighborhood, but it all looked quiet. Even the ever-present breeze had settled, leaving only the scuff of her shoes against concrete to break the eerie silence.
“Stop it,” she ordered herself. “You’re getting paranoid.” Just to be on the safe side, though, she scanned the trees next to the house, looking for anything suspicious. Since they’d gotten an alarm system installed, the attempted break-ins had dropped significantly, but there was still the occasional treasure hunter trying their luck.Thanks for that, Mom.
The forest was still and dark. Despite the lack of any suspicious figures lurking in the shadows, the prickle of unease intensified, and she hurried back to yank open the door.
“Charlie!” she called.
“Yeah?” Charlie stepped into view.
“Make sure to set the alarm when you leave.” Still unsettled by the odd stillness of the forest, she frowned. “Or if you stay. And lock the door.”
Charlie straightened, meeting Cara’s gaze. “Trouble outside?”
“Nothing I can see. Just a feeling.”
“Got it.” From Charlie’s sober tone, Cara knew she wouldn’t blow off the warning.
“Thanks.”
Dropping her serious expression, Charlie made shooing motions with her hands. “Now get to class before you’re late. Your future kindergartners won’t teach themselves.”
Cara gave her a mock salute before closing the door and hurrying to the car. She hoped that they’d find their mom soon—as well as the valuable necklace Jane had stolen—so their lives could go back to normal. Maybe it was wrong to hope that her only surviving parent would be sent back to jail, but Cara didn’t care. Jane had really screwed them over this time. If she hadn’t stolen the necklace, used their house for collateral on her bail bond, and then skipped town, Cara would be happily attending classes and doing her usual research. Instead, she was scanning the bushes for danger and breaking into murderers’ motel rooms.
Accused murderers, her brain corrected, and she sighed. It was probably a good thing she’d sworn off chasing Henry Kavenski. As far as he was concerned, she seemed to be having a hard time staying objective, maybe because he hadn’t actually killed her.
Or because he reallywasincredibly pretty.
Chapter 2
Cara’s child development theories class was a good distraction from the utter chaos of the rest of her life. The two hours flew by, and she was disappointed when it ended and all her worries came crashing back down on her. Not wanting to return to dealing with skips and the possibility of burglars lurking in her backyard, she dragged out the process of packing up her bag.
When she was the last one in the classroom, she knew she couldn’t delay any longer. It was time to dive back into the less-fun parts of her life. Heaving her backpack over her shoulder, Cara headed for the corridor. The classroom was on the third floor of Meyers Hall, an ancient brick building that was stiflingly hot in the summer and as cold as a walk-in freezer in the winter. The majority of the students had already made their way outside, and the few remaining were making their way toward the stairs.
Cara followed slowly, still reluctant to get home and have to think about which skip she would choose to take the place of Henry Kavenski. The soles of her tennis shoes squeaked against the highly polished floor, and the sound echoed through the hall, making her realize how quiet it had become. The classrooms had emptied and the rest of the straggling students had disappeared, leaving her alone.
A light scuffing sound behind her made her glance over her shoulder. No one was there.
It’s just my imagination,she thought, huffing a quiet laugh at how easily she scared herself. Her amusement evaporated as she continued walking down the hall and the slightly offbeat echo of her footsteps followed her. Despite the uneasiness that prickled the back of her neck, she refused to allow herself to look over her shoulder again.No one is there. I’m alone. No one is there.As she repeated the mantra in her mind, she tried to keep from walking faster.
Even as she told herself she was being silly, she couldn’t help but tense. Her pace quickened, the sound of her hurried footsteps making her even more anxious. She tried to be amused by how many horror movie clichés her imagination had dreamed up, but it was hard to laugh at her very real apprehension as she rushed toward the stairs. All the crazy, dangerous things that had been happening to her and her sisters lately made her see menace in everything.
“Hey, Cara Pax.”
She whirled around, a shriek of surprise trapped in her throat. As soon as she saw who’d spoken, she was glad that the startled sound hadn’t made it out. The little weasel had intentionally tried to scare her, and she would’ve hated to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d succeeded.
