Page 130 of The Coppersmith Farmhouse (Jamison Valley 1)
My panic lessened marginally now that I knew he wasn’t interested in Rowen.
An evil gleam was shining from Everett’s brown eyes. “Time to go, Gigi.”
His hand flashed before two prongs jabbed into my ribs a split second before the whole world went black.
Jess
Something wasn’t right.
I could feel it in my gut. Clicking the button on the visor, I started easing the truck into the garage but slammed on the brakes when Rowen’s little body came darting around the hood.
Opening the door, I frowned down at her.
“Rowen, you can’t run around a truck like—”
What the fuck?
Her skin was white and covered in big red splotches. Tears streamed down her face as her whole body shook.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, kneeling in front of her.
“Mommy,” she sobbed and fell into my chest.
“Mommy what, Roe?” I pressed, gently shaking her little shoulders.
“Mommy came to my room and said I had to come out here and hide. She made me crawl through the kitty’s door and hide with them because there were scary men coming to the house. But she didn’t come to get me. Where is she? I want Mommy!” she wailed.
What the fuck was going on? Who came to the house and where was Georgia?
I picked up Rowen and ran with her clutched to my neck toward the house.
The front door was open a crack. Whoever had come here hadn’t shut it completely when they’d left. I toed it open with my boot and started walking carefully through the entryway.
“Shh, Roe,” I whispered in her ear. “Can you sit here for a minute while I look around the house?”
She nodded and I set her down right inside the door.
I should have left her in the garage while I checked the house but she wouldn’t have let me. She was freaked, so the entryway was the best I was going to get.
I slid my gun from its holster, creeping silently into the house. I cleared the living room first, then made my way past the office toward the kitchen. The stove was on and whatever Georgia had been cooking was boiling. Her phone was sitting on the counter by the sink.
The knot in my gut was tightening. There was no way she would have left her phone if she hadn’t been panicked. She would have taken it with her and shut off the stove. Unless whatever she saw had freaked her so much that all she did was focus on getting Rowen to the garage.
Fuck.
I crept quickly and quietly through the rest of the house but there wasn’t a sign of her. Nothing. And nothing was out of place.
I stowed my gun and went back to Rowen. Kneeling in front of her, I asked her question after question about what had happened.
She didn’t know much. Once she’d made it to the garage, she’d done as her mother had asked and hidden in the cat’s alcove. From in there, she hadn’t seen or heard a thing happening at the house.
I got her situated in the living room under Georgia’s favorite fleece blanket, hoping its warmth and the lingering scent of her mother’s vanilla shampoo would help her stop shaking.
Then I went into the kitchen and took a better look around.
She must have been here when she’d gotten spooked. My eyes darted to the clock. Five-thirty. Georgia couldn’t have been gone for long because the pot on the stove would have been burning, not just boiling. And she usually didn’t get home until just a little after five.
Georgia had told Rowen that men were walking up to the house. But who?
