Page 19 of Darkwater Lane (Stillhouse Lake #7)

GWEN

A wave of terror washes over me, and I’m on my feet before I even finish placing the call. I’ve been training my kids on what to do in an emergency for years. There’s no way Lanny would send me a text like that unless something is truly, terribly wrong.

Worst-case scenarios tear through my thoughts, causing my heart to nearly seize with panic as I stumble out of the bar and through the lobby, waiting for the call to connect. I never should have let them go on their own. This entire experiment to give them more space and autonomy was a mistake.

I should have known that something like this was coming. I should have been better prepared.

The minute I hear Lanny pick up, I ask, “Are you safe?”

“Connor and I are both fine. Not hurt. Not in danger,” she tells me immediately.

Her voice is trembling, and I hear the car running in the background.

“We’re up at the gas station on Central.

” It’s where I’ve always told them to go in case of an emergency.

Don’t wait or hesitate, just get in the car and drive.

I close my eyes, allowing myself to feel a second of relief that almost brings me to my knees. I blow out a shuddering breath. I’m outside now, the swish of the hotel doors sliding closed behind me. “Okay, what happened?”

“I don’t—hold on.” She says something to Connor that I can’t hear.

He starts to protest, but it’s drowned out by the sound of the car dinging as she opens the door and steps outside.

“I’m not sure how much Connor saw. I’m not even sure exactly what it was I saw either.

We got home from the barn, and everything seemed normal.

The front door was locked and the alarm was on.

But when I stepped inside…” She pauses and audibly swallows.

She’s breathing fast and shallow, and I can hear how hard she’s struggling to control her panic. “Mom.” Her voice warbles, and it physically hurts to hear that word and know that my baby girl needs me and I’m not there. I curl my fingers tighter around the phone.

“I’m right here. Tell me what happened.” I try to keep my tone level and calm, knowing she needs that anchor right now.

She draws in another sharp breath. “There was blood. Everywhere. I didn’t know what it was at first, but then…I saw a body. It was a man. He was on the couch. Sitting, with his head back and his throat…it wasn’t even—” She gasps, her words trailing off into a whimper.

My chest squeezes tight. All I can think about is Sam. How he’s not here when he should be. How I haven’t heard from him. Oh, God. What if one of those sickos came after us? What if my worst nightmares are finally coming true?

My body floods with dread, emotions threatening to overwhelm my thoughts. I start to tremble and have to clench my teeth, needing to stay strong and focused for Lanny.

“Sam.” I croak the word.

“It wasn’t him,” she quickly clarifies. “I didn’t recognize whoever it was,” she adds. “He was old. Had gray hair. But I didn’t see much else. I just turned, and pushed Connor back toward the car, and ran. ”

The relief I feel is so intense that I stumble toward the wall of the hotel, pressing a hand against it to keep from sliding to the ground. Not Sam , I think to myself. Not my kids.

We’re all safe. For now.

“But he was for sure dead,” she continues, unable to stop herself. “The blood, Mom. It was?—”

“But you and Connor are okay?” I press, trying to steer her away from focusing on the horrific scene she just saw.

“We are. We left and drove up here. Just like we practiced,” she confirms.

I feel a burst of pride. Despite the quaver in my daughter’s voice, I’m remarkably impressed by how well she’s holding herself together.

She’s not screaming or crying or blubbering with panic.

We’ve drilled emergency scenarios again and again, but it’s different than facing a true emergency with its unpredictability and messiness and fight-or-flight hormones coursing through you.

Despite how well she’s doing, I need to be there. I need to see and hold my kids and know they’re okay. It’s an urge so primal that it’s painful. Then I remember that I don’t have a car, and frustration surges through me. I need Sam. Now.

I text him:

Gwen

Where are you?

I don’t want to hang up on Lanny to call him, so I keep her on the line while I open the location app on my phone.

At least that way, I can see how far away he is.

I note that Lanny’s and Connor’s icons are at the gas station.

It’s what I expected, but it’s still a relief to see.

Vee’s icon is at the tattoo parlor where she works. She’ll be safe there.

Sam’s icon, however, is missing. I scroll down to the list of names on the account below the map. His is grayed out. I click on it and get an error message that the user location data is unavailable .

My knuckles burn white where I grip the phone and shake it, hoping that might somehow make a difference. Of course, it doesn’t.

A wave of helplessness rolls through me. Where the hell is he? What if something’s happened to him? What if he’s in danger? My stomach roils, nausea burning the back of my throat.

I don’t have time to worry about him. He’s a soldier , I remind myself. He knows how to take care of himself. Right now, my focus has to be on the kids. We agreed to that early on: Our kids come first, above all else.

Right now, my number-one priority is getting to Lanny and Connor.

I turn to the valet stand. “I need a taxi. Now!”

The young boy’s eyes go wide, and he nods and reaches for a phone, but he’s not moving fast enough.

I’m about to snap at him that it’s an emergency when I notice a presence at my elbow.

It’s Madison. I have no idea how long she’s been standing there.

“I can drive you.” She already has her keys out and starts jogging toward the parking lot. “My car’s right over here.”

My thoughts erupt into war. Every ounce of my maternal self screams to follow her and get to my kids.

Now . But the rational part of me refuses to move.

This woman is still a stranger. She’s told me a pretty story about how she’s not really my enemy and doesn’t wish me or my family any harm, but what if it’s just that? A story.

The valet solves the problem for me. “It will be about fifteen to twenty minutes,” he says after hanging up the phone.

I can’t wait that long. Not when it involves my kids.

I feel the weight of my Sig Sauer under my arm. Carrying a firearm isn’t a substitute for making smart decisions, and just because I have a weapon doesn’t mean I should put myself in a compromising situation. Still, it at least gives me some comfort.

Under other circumstances, I would tell Madison no. But this is about my kids. “I’m on my way,” I tell Lanny .

I chase after Madison as she leads me to a small SUV parked under a light nearby.

I slow as I approach the car, my hand under my jacket as I quickly scan the inside.

Several bankers boxes are stacked in the back—presumably the files she promised me.

But no one is crouched and waiting to ambush me, which is all I’m focused on.

Madison clearly understands that this is an emergency and already has the car started before I jump inside. She’s pulling out of the parking lot by the time I get my seatbelt buckled. “Where to?” she asks.

I rattle off the address, knowing that we’ll never use that safe spot again, and she types it into her phone with one hand while navigating traffic with the other.

“I’ll be there soon,” I tell Lanny. “Get back in the car and lock the doors. Go ahead and call the cops. Tell them what you saw. I’m going to try to reach Sam again.”

I hang up and brace my hand against the dash as Madison takes a left turn on a yellow light, causing several cars to blare their horns.

I expect her to bombard me with questions, but she remains quiet.

I appreciate her silence, but that doesn’t mean she’s not absorbing every second and won’t use it against me later.

I hate that I’ve involved a journalist in my private business, but it was the lesser of two evils.

I guess I’ll see how sincere she was in her earlier apology by what she does when all is said and done. If she keeps this to herself, I might start believing her.

I call Sam, and it rolls to voicemail. Where the hell is he? I recheck the location app. His name is still grayed out. I text him.

Gwen

I need you to call me.

I stare at my phone, willing it to ring.

Nothing. It’s not the first time his phone has dropped off the location app.

Usually, though, it’s because he put his phone in airplane mode or turned it off while flying.

Sometimes, he forgets to turn it back on.

It’s never been an issue before, though.

I rarely pay attention to his location—the app is really for me to keep an eye on the kids and Vee.

Not that they haven’t figured out a way around the app in the past.

I’m incessantly reloading the map when the blare of a horn and screeching tires jolts me back to the present.

Madison veers across oncoming traffic and into the gas station.

Forgetting Sam for the moment, I point to the far corner where my SUV sits, idling under a bright streetlight.

Madison heads in that direction, and I already have my seatbelt off and the door open before she pulls to a complete stop.

I leap out of the car and lunge toward my kids. The minute I have Lanny in my arms, her shoulders begin to heave with silent tears. “I’m here,” I tell her, holding her head against the crook of my neck. “You’re safe, I’ve got you.”

Connor comes around his side of the car, and I grab him too, wrapping my arm around him and holding them both tight. “I’m okay, Mom,” he grumbles against me, but I don’t care. I need this. I need the feel of my kids safe and sound and protected. For a moment, we stand there, the three of us.