Page 56 of His to Burn

I met Jack’s gaze, and moved closer, his face on full alert again.

“What is it?” he asked, instantly keyed in.

I thought I had good poker face, but Jack saw right through it.

“The gate,” I whispered, unable to shake the unease.

“Maybe he was in a hurry,” Jack said.

“No, that’s not it,” I said, my chest tightening with panic I was determined to ignore.

My voice wasn’t particularly emphatic, but Jack didn’t argue.

Instead he nodded, and looked around the yard.

“Tell me about the house,” he said.

“Five bedrooms, five baths, a man cave in the basement, and the attic is dedicated to his stockpile. Oh, and there’s a greenhouse back here. His wife grew orchids, and he kept them up. Said it helped him remember her.”

I stopped when I realized I was rambling, but Jack didn’t seem to mind. In fact, in the ten seconds I spoke, I noticed he formulated a plan.

“We sweep in circles. Start with the greenhouse and work to the house and hope there are no surprises,” Jack said.

“Okay. The greenhouse is behind the garage on the backside of the property,” I said.

Without another word, Jack strode toward the greenhouse, his steps assured.

Or they were until he stopped short.

“Wait there,” Jack said.

“What is?—”

“Wait, Asia.”

His tone allowed no argument, and while I wanted to protest, I stayed where I was and watched Jack.

His movements were still assured, but he wasn’t anxious or hurried, which told me it wasn’t danger he was worried about.

It was something he didn’t want me to see.

And suddenly, I knew what it was.

I kept my eyes on Jack as he walked into the greenhouse.

Less than a minute later, he came back out holding a gun and a piece of paper.

“He’s dead,” I said, no doubt in my mind about the identity of “he.”

“Yeah. Shot himself and left this note,” Jack said, his voice nonchalant.

When Jack reached me, he stretched out his hand and passed me the note.

The paper was familiar.

I’d also been responsible for ordering it and the ink for his fountain pen. I also recognized the strong, confident strokes of his letters.

If you find me,leave me here.