Web of Lies (The Goode Life #2) - Isla Olsen Page 0,29

rest of the day in a bit of a funk as I alternate between pondering the potential possibility of actually relocating here, and stressing over how Web’s meeting with Chance went.

He promised he’d let me know the outcome, but I haven’t heard from him all day and I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad sign. To be fair, he’s probably just been caught up at work, but that doesn’t really help my stress levels.

And as for my other predicament…well, despite my initial reaction, I can’t help wondering what it would be like to actually move back here. It’d be a change of pace, that’s for sure. But maybe Zack’s right…maybe that’s what I need right now?

When my phone starts blaring from its place on the kitchen counter while I’m busy making a quick dinner, I rush for it, assuming it must be Web. Instead, I see my colleague Barbara’s name flashing on the screen.

“Barbara, hey. How’s it going?” I ask, returning my attention to the pasta I have boiling on the stove.

“Hey, Jesse. I just wanted to let you know Cara’s family have finalized the details for her funeral.”

My heart cracks at the reminder of my dead patient. I’ve been doing my best not to think about the sweet little girl’s death since starting my vacation, and the drama with Web has definitely proved to be a good distraction. If I’m being honest, I think that’s a big part of the reason I was so upset with Zack today—his ambush brought it all back.

“When is it?” I ask, mentally trying to figure out of I could swing flying back to New York before the wedding if the funeral is scheduled for this week.

“It’s next Monday.”

“Oh. Well, I’ll definitely be able to make it, then. I get home Sunday night. Thanks for letting me know,” I add before wrapping up the call.

After I’m done with dinner, I head upstairs for a shower. I’m just returning to my room after I’m done, feeling nice and refreshed and dressed in my comfiest sweats, when I hear something strange. It sounds like someone’s trying to pry open my bedroom window.

“What the hell?”

The smart move would probably be to stay clear of my room and call Sheriff Taylor to come deal with the situation, but I left my phone on my nightstand before getting in the shower, and considering Mom no longer has a landline, there’s no other way to call for help.

I suddenly remember there’s a can of mace in my suitcase, which is on the floor between the door and the window. I could quickly grab it and surprise the intruder…

Moving as fast as I can, I burst into my bedroom and dive on my suitcase, retrieving the mace. Then I jump up and spray it at the intruder, who’s now half inside the window.

“Ah, fuck!” His hands fly up to his face and he topples into my room, falling face down on the carpet.

Aaannnddd that’s when I realize who it is.

“Oh my god, Web! What the hell are you doing here?”

“Oww, why do you have pepper spray?” he moans.

“I live in New York.”

“This isn’t New York!”

I let out a wry breath and stride to my nightstand, where a glass of water is sitting next to the bed. “Here, tilt your head back,” I say to Web, before tossing the water in his face. “Better?”

“Mmmggmm,” he grumbles, his bloodshot eyes narrowed.

“What’s this?” I ask, reaching for a DVD that must have fallen out of Web’s hand and onto the carpeted floor in his tumble.

“I told you you’d owe me for ditching me at Chance’s office,” he says. “Well, this is your punishment.”

I arch an eyebrow at him. Okay, definitely not the kind of payback I’d had in mind. “It can’t have been that bad.”

Web looks at me blankly. “I had to listen to Alice Ackerman go on about puppy custody. Again.”

With a breath of amusement, I scan my eyes over the DVD cover. “You thought twelve episodes of young David Boreanaz would be punishment for me?” I shake my head morosely. “Webster, Webster, Webster. You need to work on your game.”

“Open the case,” he instructs me.

Sparing him a brief look of curiosity, I pry open the DVD case before dropping it in horror upon viewing the interior contents. “Season six?” I ask in a horrified tone. “You brought the Spuffy season?”

God, he is a monster.

Web chuckles and finally manages to pull himself into a slightly more dignified position, sitting on the