Page 58 of Wicked Games

“No one knows that yet, I don’t think.”

“Maybe not, but all it takes is the wrong person to find out. Watch your back.”

“I will.” I pause. “How are you doing?”

“Better than Vale is. At least I know. For his sake, I hope they find her body soon.”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. Drive out, if you want. I’ve got a couple of extra bedrooms if you need a break.”

“No, I better stay, but thanks for the offer. When all this is over I might get out of here. I don’t always sound like it, but I appreciate you not cutting me off. You don’t have to talk to me like this.”

I can understand Bill wanting to get out of Ashfield when this is done. When we find out how and why Hattie was involved, he’ll need a place to come to terms with it all. No one wants to know the people they love are capable of something like that. “It’s okay. We might find out her intentions were good and this was all a mistake.”

He scoffs. “Sure. I’ll let you know if I can get in to see Vale. Take care of yourself.”

“You too.”

He disconnects, and I drop my phone on the bed. I’ve run out of ideas, run out of theories. Would Brooke have hired someone to kidnap Theo? It doesn’t seem likely because she doesn’t have a motive. Nothing I could guess at, anyway. She didn’t want more kids, but in Hattie’s interview she didn’t hint at not loving the one she had. It’s not like she was a stressed-out single mom stuck at home without any help. She had the freedom to do whatever she wanted and had no problem leaving Theo with his nanny and spending all her time with Rowan Vale.

That probably wouldn’t have gone on indefinitely, especially if Rowan really loved her and wanted to marry her. He’d have pressured her to leave Seth so they could be together, but she didn’t have to plan the kidnapping of her own son to do that. If Seth wouldn’t have been grieving and in shock, he might have made it harder for her to leave, but so what? She walks away with a billion dollars instead of four? No one would have any sympathy for her.

I have a few hours before Seth and I are going to walk to town, and I drag the lawnmower out of the garage. The grass is out of control and an hour of physical activity won’t hurt. Luckily, it isn’t a pull-start, and I get it going without a problem. If Darren and I hadn’t owned a house that had a large yard, I might have felt out of my element, but I frequently mowed and I enjoy the sun and the scent of fresh-cut grass in the air.

Winnie watches curiously from Seth’s patio, and because I’m already sweaty, I do his yard too. He glances out the French doors, his cell phone to his ear, and I lift a hand.

He stands next to Winnie and shouts, “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Mowing your yard, what does it look like?”

“I can do that.”

“So can I. Tell Violet I said hi.”

He shakes his head and goes back inside.

I finish his backyard and do the sides and front, then backtrack to my yard and do what I missed. I’m out for longer than I thought I’d be, but my muscles burn in a good way, and after my shower, I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I stand in the kitchen with a late lunch and my notebook, flipping between the novel I started and the notes I made regarding Hattie’s death.

I used to blame her for dying. Bill might have thought something like this was bound to happen, but I never did. It was only after she testified to put Titus Jenkins in prison did I think that she could be in real trouble, but that didn’t amount to anything as far as I can tell. That Theo and Hattie were killed with his gun seems to be only a coincidence.

No, if by some chance their deaths are related to the Reapers, it’s because someone used the gang as a tool. We just have to figure out who and what their motives are.

I miss her, and I push back tears.

Instead of giving in, I go upstairs to see how full my laundry hamper is. I have time to do a load of towels. Suddenly, as I reach my bedroom, I feel wet in my panties, and it’s not because Seth’s naked and waiting for me.

I don’t have to look to know I got my period. Numb, I clean myself up, put in a tampon, and change my panties. Seth can’t get me pregnant—I have fifteen years of evidence to remind me of that fact—but it doesn’t stop my heart from dropping to the floor.

Mentally exhausted, I crawl in bed and try to sleep.

Try to forget what Fate will never let me. That I’m nothing but a broke writer in all the ways that means.

Seth finds me still in bed, and he sits at the edge of the mattress and smooths my hair away from my face. “You’re not feeling well? Too much sun mowing the grass?”

I shake my head the best I can against my pillow. “No. I got my period.”

The skin around his eyes crinkles, but there so much understanding in them too. “So we’re having messy sex after the crafts fair?”

Swallowing back a sob, I sit up and crawl into his lap. I can’t help it, and I start crying.