Page 86 of Wildflower and Whiskey
The breath she let out wasn’t quite relief, but it wasn’t panic either. “Thank you for keeping me in the loop.”
“Always,” I said.
“We should call the daycare and tell them he’ll be back tomorrow,” she said. “I can’t hide forever.”
“You’re not hiding,” I said. “You’re regrouping, it’s different.” I stroked a thumb along the line of her jaw. “Dad will have a car at the far gate again tonight. I’ll add one more camera to the north corner and angle it low. And . . .” I hesitated, because the last piece had rattled in my pocket all night “Dad and I want to run one more test on the ‘delivery’ text that came in.”
Her brows lifted. “What kind of test?”
“Decoy.” I stood; Braden latched to my shirt. I kissed the top of Elyna’s head before I went to the dresser for a packet of bright orange tape and a blank parcel label. “We tape a fake ‘signature required’ note at the bottom of the stairwell door. Something only a person walking up here can see. We set a trail cam at knee height that catches hands and shoe brands if anyone reaches in. If they’re fishing for you to open a door, they might try again.”
Her eyes searched mine. “What if they don’t fall for it?”
“Then we don’t find anything new.” I passed her Braden and the orange tape. “And my cameras still see everything.” On some level I knew I was going overboard with all the cameras, but I felt like it was the only control I had in this moment when my goal was keeping them both safe amongst so many moving parts that were wild cards.
We ate in the kitchen, the three of us at the big table while sunlight and warmth came in through the windows. I cleaned dishes while Elyna read Braden an entirely fabricated story about a fox and a maple leaf who were best friends. The world, for ten minutes, was very small and very good.
By midmorning I’d installed the low cam on the porch and a matching chime on the mudroom door. I texted Dad a photo ofthe setup. His reply came back fast.Looks good. Keep the chime on armed. I’m ten minutes away. Will check the lane.
He showed up exactly eight minutes later with a bag of screwdrivers and a look that said he trusted my work but planned to verify anyway. He walked the perimeter with me, but he paused at the north fence line and his eyes narrowed toward the old logging track beyond the sugar shack. He could read this property better than most men could read a map.
“They circled late,” he said. “They will circle again. Their patience is running thin.” He cut me a sideways glance. “How is she?”
“Better,” I said. “Sleeping. Eating. Laughing.” I kept my voice steady on the last word.
He grunted, satisfied. “Good. Keep her near people. Keep your phone on.” Then, after a beat, he clapped my shoulder, a rare gesture. “You’re doing well.” I allowed the words to sink in while he went straight to his car. When I left for Europe after high school there had been a rift between us. I felt like I was holding on to too much responsibility and I needed a break. He felt like I was walking away from the family. At the end I came back but our family dynamic changed since Eric stepped up in taking care of our younger siblings. I still helped out too but dad wanted me to join the force. I had no interest. There had always been a push and pull between us where I felt like I wasn’t meeting his expectations. That’s why him telling I did well carried weight. It was words I longed to hear.
I stood and watched his taillights disappear down the lane.They were losing patience.
Inside, Braden had discovered the lower kitchen drawer full of wooden spoons and was attempting to start a band. Elyna leaned against the counter, ankles crossed, looking at him like nothing in her life had ever been more beautiful. When shelooked up at me, the same softness didn’t leave her face. It just… widened to make room.
“Pierre was checking the perimeter? she asked.
“Yes.” I tapped the portable sensor Dad insisted I keep on me. “And he left me more toys to play with.”
She eyed the device. “He’s relentless.”
“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” I said, which was true. My father was a born protector and I took on that trait too.
After lunch, I hauled out the box markedOctober.Maple Valley didn’t do anything halfway; even in a year like this one, we’d string lights in the beer garden and cut paths through the corn for the haunted maze. I found a cardboard sleeve of bat silhouettes Asher had bought on a dare and had never used. Elyna hung them in the kitchen doorway while Braden supervised from his high chair, clapping his hands.
At three, my phone buzzed.
Becket:Update. Frosted Mug runner says the Montreal boys are asking about“the Thorne place by the orchard.”Not the main house, they mean you. Stay close.
I texted back a clippedCopyand showed Elyna the message.
“They’re asking for you?” Her voice went small around the last word.
“They’re testing,” I corrected. “We just go on living our life, Elyna.”
So we did. We finished the little things homes are made of, like stacking diapers in the top drawer of the family room buffet and finding the right spot for Braden’s velvet-eared fox on the bookshelf.
With dusk everything grew darker, the orchard line faded as the stars emerged, lighting the sky. One of the most beautiful parts about living in a small town was enjoying the stars at night since we didn’t have the city lights drowning them out. I set thealarm on the mudroom door, checked the cams one more time, and dropped my phone face down on the counter.
Eric dropped by earlier with some onion soup and cheese buns so we ate that for dinner, once again sitting around the large wood table. Braden liked to sample everything but decided that an empty spoon tasted the best. After dishes, I carried him down the hall while Elyna set up his bath. She bathed him and I joined in singing some songs. While she got him dressed, I took off to shower and turn down our bed. By the time I came to check on them in the other room, Braden was fast asleep. I walked over to the crib and watched him sleep for a few beats. He looked so peaceful.
“Goodnight, buddy,” I whispered.
