Page 37 of Five

Oscar’s brusque query interrupts us.

“I mean that it was rough. I had a busted car window, and my laptop was stolen. I had parents calling nonstop. I had some weirdo texting me—“

“What?” They exclaim together, and I rub at a crick in my neck.

“Just what I said,” I reply. “I didn’t feel completely safe, and so I stuck a chair under the doorknob and—“

Oscar groans.

“…fell asleep.” I pause. “Sorry.”

My explanation makes Oscar furious. “You should have called me immediately.” He pulls out a pad of paper. “Where was the window busted?”

I shrug. “It had already been the longest day in the history of ever, Detective.”

His brownish-gray eyes glint at me. “Oz.”

“Right. Anyway, I didn’t feel like dealing with the cops. I just kind of panicked and wanted to get home to get to safety.”

“Safety?” Oscar scoffs. “And how did you plan on defending yourself? With your can of shaving cream?”

I quell the urge to stick my tongue out and go on the offensive. “Plus, I totally did leave a message. You must not have been checking your voicemail.”

“What?” He utters a curse and pulls out his phone.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Caroline whines. She’s at the charging station still, scrolling through my phone.

I send her a level look. “Caro, I love you, but you can be annoying as shit. I mean, shoot.”

Shaking my head, I step over to my door and inspect the broken frame. “My landlord is going to kill me.”

Oz comes beside me and runs a hand over the damage. “I’ll get someone over here to fix everything. How the hell you didn’t hear me is beyond me.”

“She’s a heavy sleeper,” Caroline volunteers.

“Clearly.” Oz scratches his temple with a single finger, regarding me with a steady, considering look. “Tell me about these texts.”

I grimace. This is the last thing I want to talk about. “Just someone being weird and creepy.” I shrug a little. “Kept saying Wendy. Over and over.”

Oscar’s gaze sharpens. “Any idea why?”

My mouth is dry, and I look past him to Caroline. Her eyes are on my phone, but I can feel her attention on me. Telling her my suspicions will do nothing but freak her out. I do not need a freaked out Caroline. “Nothing I want to talk about,” I finally reply.

“If it has anything to do with the attempted abduction, I need to know.” Oz is implacable.

Jamie Fraser takes that moment to wind around my ankles with a tiny mew. Although fully adult, he still sounds like a tiny kitten when he meows. He peers at the open door, and I scoop him up, sinking down into a nearby chair. I curl my fingers into his soft orange pelt and remain silent.

“Neve,” Caroline says.

I glare.

“Wendy?” She pushes. “You know as well as I do, that cannot be a coincidence.”

I close my eyes. Breathe in, and exhale out on a box count of four. One-one-thousand. Two-one-thousand. Caroline is right. I just don’t want to deal with it. Because when I do…when I make myself see… the implications are too ugly.

But Oscar needs to know.

When I open my eyes, though, they’re clear and dry, and I’m ready. “When we were children,” I begin, “my brother Nicholas was abducted by the person known as The Lost Boys Kidnapper.”