Heartbreak Bay (Stillhouse Lake #5) - Rachel Caine Page 0,70
report, especially now.
As I hang up, Vee says, “Ms. P, I am so sorry, I thought—I texted Lanta to ask her to turn off the alarm, I thought for sure she’d do it . . .” She trails off because now my attention is on her again, and it’s not kind. She swallows hard.
“Tell me she didn’t leave her window unlocked.”
“Uh . . . she didn’t? I kind of know how to slide those locks?” She looks ashamed to say it, but I’m actually relieved a little bit; at least this time it isn’t my daughter’s doing. Not completely, anyway. Though Lanny should have warned me that Vee was planning this. “It really wasn’t Lanta’s fault. It was all mine.”
“You’re damn right it was. Vee, why didn’t you just come to the front door like a normal person?” But I think I know, from the way her cheeks turn a bit pink. She was hoping for a little make-out session with my daughter, I think. I have no idea if Lanny’s agreed to it or not, but either way, it’s just throwing fuel on the fire. Both of them should know better. “Sit. Down. I need to tell my kids they’re not about to be murdered, thanks to you.”
“Sorry,” she mutters. “Bright side is, you didn’t even shoot anybody.”
She’s getting her equilibrium back. Far too quickly for my taste.
I knock on Connor’s door, the usual signal pattern to let him know it’s me and I’m not under duress; he unlocks it and peers out, still wary, until he sees me. Then the door flings wide. “What was that?”
I look past him at my daughter. She seems completely clueless. “What? What did I do?”
I sigh. “Check your phone.”
She does, whipping it out of her pocket, and I see her expression go from guarded to shocked to utterly horrified. “Oh no.”
“Oh yes.”
“Vee? She broke my window?”
“Not broke,” Vee says quietly from behind me. “Kinda jimmied. Didn’t know you’d ignored my message.”
“Dumbass, I didn’t even know about it! You can’t just . . .” She’s actually angry. Lanny, for the first time I can remember, is holding her friend—maybe even her crush—to account. “Do you know what kind of trouble you could have caused? Oh my God, you’re lucky Mom didn’t shoot you!”
Mom almost did, a fact that makes me shiver. The gun feels heavy in my hand, and very, very lethal. “Go lock your window,” I tell my daughter. “Vee. Couch. Now.”
I trail her on the way back, and stoop to put my gun away. When I straighten up, she’s trying so hard to look inoffensive that it’s nearly comic. “I just wanted to make sure she was okay,” Vee tells me. “She texted me about the boys who put up that flyer on your door. There’s one over ’round my place on the telephone pole too.”
“Did you take it down?”
“’Course I did, what do you think I am?” She seems offended I’d even ask, but with Vee, honestly, I kind of had to. “I expect that guy who sent me the letter put it up. Right?”
Her instincts are good, but I just say, “I don’t know for certain. I guess since you’re here, you might as well stay the night. I don’t want you walking around in the dark.” The fact she was foolish enough to do that makes me itch, but that’s Vee: smart and stupid at the same time. That’s also being a teenager. Lanny’s growing out of it. I hope that Vee will too.
“Where’s Sam?” she asks. I notice that Vee’s usually Ms. P when it comes to me, but she treats Sam differently. Not sure what I make of it, or if I should make anything of it at all . . . and then it hits me, and I suck in a startled breath.
Sam.
I grab for my phone. There’s a notification from the alarm company on the screen; I swipe past it and see a missed call from Sam. He must have seen that the alarm triggered.
He’s okay.
I shut my eyes for a second in real relief, and then hit dial. He picks up on the first ring, and I hear the roar of road noise immediately. “Gwen?”
“Slow down,” I tell him. “We’re okay. It’s okay. Vee set off the alarm. Everything’s fine. Are you all right?”
“Oh, thank God. Yeah. I’m fine. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
“Take your time. The crisis is canceled.”
“In our house, it’s always just postponed,” he says, but he sounds better.