Page 170 of Our Little Secret

She pocketed the equipment and left the case and, with a prayer to a God she hadn’t been tight with for years, slid Eli’s knife from its sheath and, with an eye on the house, crouched between the two parked vehicles. Using all her strength, she plunged the blade deep into the side of one of the tires on Leah’s car. She sliced as best she could, slipped the knife back into its sheath, and, silently praying that no one had seen her, walked inside.

Shep bounded to greet her and as she petted the dog, yanked off her boots, the sights, sounds, and smells of Christmas were overwhelming.

Once again the old turntable was spinning out Christmas tunes. Gina Duquette’s decorated Christmas cookies had been spread on a platter and Neal had cracked out the eggnog and was pouring drinks. The fire was roaring, the tree lit, and while Neal tended bar, Leah set presents under the tree. Even Marilee had joined the group, her bad mood seemingly dispelled, a book open on her lap.

A happy family, to the untrained eye.

But Brooke knew better. Beneath the gaiety and visible Christmas spirit, something much darker lurked. Something evil. She thought about how innocent deception could appear. She was still wearing her jacket, nervously hoping no one noticed the bulge in its pockets or made the discovery of the knife and the wallet she’d stolen.

Where was Eli?

Missing, it seemed.

“Hey, there she is!” Neal said, finally noticing Brooke and offering her what seemed a sincere grin. “About time you showed up!” She forced a smile as she walked to the fire to warm the backs of her legs and remembered what the baker had said about seeing Neal with “his wife,” who, in fact, had been Leah, the very person he was plotting with to sell this cabin. All behind her back. She wondered what else was going on between them.

As if he read her thoughts, Neal’s expression tightened, but he held up a mug of eggnog. “How about some Christmas cheer?”

You lying son of a bitch!

“Sure,” she forced out. “Just give me a minute or two. I need to get a sweater. Got a little cold out there.”

Leah actually caught the tail end of the conversation. “A little cold? It’s a damned blizzard! The lights keep going on and off and the wind is screaming. It’s a miracle the ferry is still running, but it is. I called.”

“Amazing. I’d better go warm up. Cold to the bone. Where’s Eli?”

Leah rolled her eyes. “Outside.” Her lips tightened. “I swear, it’s like he has to smoke as much as he can before the wedding because he knows that after we say our vows . . .” She made an exaggerated slice of her hand across her throat. “No more.” She glanced to the back windows. “I’m surprised you didn’t see him . . . oh, there he is now.” She grinned as Eli walked through the back door and stomped snow from his boots.

Brooke’s heart nearly stopped.

Had he overheard her conversation on the phone?

Or had he seen her deliberately vandalize her sister’s car?

He caught Brooke’s eye for a second, then said to Leah, “Any chance of getting a drink here?”

“Absolutely,” Leah said. “You?”

“In a few. Give me a sec.” Without any further explanation or lies, she headed upstairs, still wearing her jacket. She went into the master bath and locked the door. After checking that the soap was still covering the camera’s lens just in case the little bit of surveillance equipment had somehow been reconnected, she spread out the equipment she’d taken from her sample case. Within seconds she’d ensured the tiny cameras were wirelessly connected to her phone. They were activated by motion detection, which lengthened their battery life and kept the user from seeing hours of dead footage where nothing happened.

How many times had she explained the same to potential customers, never thinking for a minute that she would have to employ the very equipment she sold?

Quickly, she changed into a bulky sweater and boot-leg jeans. She slid Eli’s wallet into a pocket and folded the hem of the sweater over the slight bulge. Then she strapped the knife to her leg, just inside the top of her boot, before sliding the flared leg of her jeans over her calf.

Nervously, she peeked into the hallway and ensured that she was still alone on the second floor.

The music had stopped, but no one appeared to be upstairs.

On silent feet she crept into the guest room and closed the door softly behind her. She noticed a picture Leah had obviously placed on the bureau that hadn’t been there earlier. Eli was standing to one side, an arm looped over her shoulders, both in jackets and squinting, Leah’s blond locks flying around her face, Eli’s smile all too familiar as he held out the camera for the selfie. They appeared to be standing on a dock near a marina. Behind them, water stretched into the haze.

Brooke picked up the picture and squinted. Barely notable in the thin fog were the ghostly shapes of sailboats. If she wasn’t mistaken, the prow of one of the boats looked exactly like that of theMedusa. She recognized the shape of the windows and a bit of rigging.

Was it possible?

Maybe, but there were thousands of boats that appeared the same.

With one ear to any noise in the hallway, she snapped a picture of the photo on her camera and would send it to Caleb. Maybe he could identify it. She considered stealing it so that she would have time to remove the picture from its bronze frame and mat, hoping for a bigger image of the boat, but she couldn’t risk it now. She didn’t have the time.

She felt in her gut that this sailboat was theMedusa.