Page 176 of Our Little Secret

Brooke waited.

Within minutes she heard two engines starting.

Then, suddenly, right on cue, there was loud yelling, voices raised. A swear word or two audible. Car doors opening and shutting.

Neal returned and stalked into the living room. “One of the tires on Leah’s car has been slashed, if you can believe that.”

“What?” Brooke said, pushing herself upright, hoping to appear surprised. “Slashed? What do you mean?”

“I mean the goddamned tire’s been intentionally sliced.”

Leah swept in, boot heels clicking, her coat billowing behind her. “On Christmas Eve!”

Eli slid into the house as well, but he stayed in the entry hall, where he could survey the living room through the archway. Marilee skirted him, slipping through the dining area to the living room.

Leah was outraged, her cheeks burning bright. “ Some little fu—jerkwad flattened my damned tire. And we don’t have a spare! The car didn’t come with one. Can you believe that? It’s a new thing. And the company’s supposed to come to your aid, like pronto, you know. You think we can get one tonight, on Christmas Eve, on this island? No!” She took a furious breath. “Or tomorrow? Do you think they’ll come on Christmas Day? What are the chances? Holy fucking shit!” She kicked at a throw pillow that had fallen to the floor. It slammed against the old rocker, setting it in motion.

“Maybe it’s a sign,” Marilee suggested.

“What? Asign?” Leah repeated, disbelieving. “Like from God? Like He’s saying, ‘Don’t come to my house and celebrate my son’s birth?’ Sure! If it’s a sign from anyone, it’s from the devil! The same wacko who cut off Joseph’s head and did God knows what else!” She threw up her arms theatrically, then slid down the edge of the fireplace to the hearth and buried her face in her hands. “I don’t know what else could go wrong.”

Oh, there’s so much more, Brooke thought but didn’t say a word. She noticed Eli’s eyes narrow a bit as he stepped through the arch and into the living room.

“It’ll be all right,” Neal offered lamely. “We can still make the ferry if we hurry.” That was true. Only twice a year, on Christmas Eve and New Year’s Eve, did the ferry run this late, but they still had time.

When no one responded Neal added, “Look, we can all go in our SUV. But you,” he said, looking at his wife, “you’ll be stuck here without wheels.”

“I think I’ll survive.” Would she? Not if Eli/Gideon had his way, she thought. Their last battle had been nearly to the death. And she had more she had to do. But of course, she couldn’t admit to any of that, so instead she stroked the dog’s head. “Shep and I will hold down the fort.”

Leah drew in a long breath and found her feet again. “Okay. Fine. Let’s do it!”

She was heading for the door, but as she swept out she glanced back at Brooke, her eyes clouding for a second; then she shook her head, as if dislodging a wayward thought before she marched outside. Everyone else followed and Neal shut the door behind them with a final, timber-shaking thud.

Once more Brooke waited.

Heard the SUV’s engine roar to life and the crunch of tires in the driveway.

Shep looked expectantly at the door.

“Shh, boy, not yet,” she said, stroking his scruffy head. Finally there was silence, and she swung her heel off the chair where it had rested and made her way to the front of the house. She peered out the window of the dining room and saw nothing but the steady falling snow.

Even the taillights of the SUV had disappeared.

“‘I think we’re alone now,’” she sang, but still waited, watching the Kit-Cat Klock tick off the seconds, its eyes moving back and forth, its tail swinging in rhythm.

Five minutes passed.

Then five more.

She glanced at her watch.

The ferry, if it was running, had left the island.

To be certain she slipped her phone out of her pocket and typed a group text to Neal and Marilee.

Did you make it?

A few seconds later bubbles appeared on the screen and then her husband sent back a thumbs-up emoji and Marilee replied: