Page 160 of Our Little Secret

And then she saw it. Eli’s wallet, on the floor as if it had been knocked from the nightstand. But she didn’t have time to go through it. Without thinking, she swept the worn leather wallet from the corner of the rug and hid it, and the knife, under the hem of her sweater. Each was too bulky to slip into her pockets and would show a bulge she couldn’t explain.

A door opened in the hallway. “Hey,” Neal said and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

She sneaked across the room.

“Have you seen your mom?” Neal asked.

Heart in her throat, sweat beginning to collect on her palms, Brooke cracked the door noiselessly. She peered through the opening and saw her husband leaning into Marilee’s room.

“Yeah,” Marilee answered, “she was just here.”

“Must be in our room.”

Pulse thundering in her ears, she watched through the slimmest of cracks as Neal crossed the hall.

The second he was inside the room and calling her name, she stepped into the corridor, slipped the door shut, and then said, “In here,” as she slid the sheathed knife behind her back, under the waistband of her jeans. Moving stealthily, she kept the wallet pressed against her body.

A second later Neal was back in the hall. “What’re you doing?”

“What does it look like?” She hitched her chin toward the bathroom.

“I know, but . . . why not use ours?” He cast a glance toward their room, with its small, attached bath.

“Dunno. Is it a problem?”

“Well, no. ’Course not.” He shrugged, the expression on his face letting her know he considered it odd.

The wallet slid downward.

She clamped it tighter to her side just as Leah climbed up the stairs.

“Oh,” she said, spying Neal and Brooke huddled together. “What’s this? You two having a little tête-à-tête?”

Keeping her arm pressed against her side, hoping to secure the slick leather wallet, Brooke said, “Just checking to make sure there was soap and hand towels out in the bathroom. I—uh, forgot earlier.”

Leah, more than a little tipsy, seemed to buy it.

“Where’s Eli?” Brooke asked.

“He went for a walk.” Rolling her eyes, she mimed puffing a cigarette. “Needed some fresh air, you know. As if I don’t know he’s going out there to smoke.” She sighed. “I guess he’s not perfect.”

Not by a long shot, Brooke thought, the wallet wedged tight against her, the knife at least unmoving.

“He’s taking Shep with him,” Leah announced as she stepped into the bathroom.

“What?” Brooke was thrown back to the panic of the night Shep went missing and a “stranger” brought him back to Leah in the park. The wallet slid, pushing past the sweater’s hem.

“He loves that dog,” Leah said with a disbelieving expression. “How weird is that?”

Not so.

“I guess we’ll have to get a puppy.” Leah pulled the door shut behind her.

Still pressing the wallet tight against her, Brooke was already heading for the stairs.

Just as she reached the top step she heard the click of the French doors opening to the back porch. Damn it all! She nearly tripped as she raced to the first floor and grabbed her jacket from a hook near the front door on the fly. Then, looking around to make certain no one was nearby or watching, she jammed Eli’s sliding wallet into one of the pockets, the knife in the other.

At the back door she hurried outside but saw no one. “Shep!” she called and heard a soft woof at the side of the house. She sped around the corner and found Eli, leash in hand, with the dog. “Hey! Wait!”