Page 29

Izzy

I think I finally have the nighttime routine down. Brody and Becca brush their teeth without complaint, and I ensure they get their back molars (very important). Then we wash our hands, put on jammies, and read stories—no fussing at all.

Something has shifted since Fiona vanished.

The kids are clinging to me for comfort, and I’m supporting them as best I can, though I wish I had someone to lean on as well.

Fiona might not have been the kindest, but we slept in the same house last night, so she certainly isn’t a stranger.

And I know things about her that wouldn’t appear in any news reports—like how she likes Greek yogurt, leaves her hair scrunchies around, and prefers all-natural soap.

I refuse to use her soap, or move any of her belongings.

It feels sacrilegious to disturb the items she left behind—not to mention they could be evidence.

I keep my focus on my job. There are kisses good night, and after all that sweetness, I spend the next hour or so trying to get them to stay in their beds, stop giggling, and finally sleep.

While they can be maddening, they’re both alive and well.

Really, what more can anyone ask for? I set the same goals for tomorrow— living children, relatively unscathed by the end of the day— and that’s that.

Still, if this is parenthood, count me out— or at least give me a super helpful partner.

David certainly wouldn’t fit that bill. He came back from the command center looking defeated and has been checked out ever since.

“Detective Baker is asking for no unauthorized search parties and to let the professionals do their job. A team from Northeast Search and Rescue is helping now. We would just be in the way.”

I can’t tell if he’s upset or relieved to be off patrol, although I’d like to think he wants to be proactive.

I want to believe he didn’t do anything to Fiona.

And yet, he was threatening when he warned me not to blab about him to Taylor.

As I head to bed, I lock my door for the first time, reminding myself to be very careful.

In the morning, the kids sleep in. I’m surprised.

Yesterday’s events may have finally caught up with them.

I head downstairs, half-expecting to see Fiona in the kitchen making breakfast, but I’m the first up and the only one there.

I brew coffee because, Lord knows, nannies need caffeine.

As I enjoy my hot, overly sugared beverage, I ponder the day’s schedule from a comfy chair with a great lake view.

As I take in the beauty of this idyllic vacation spot, I can’t help but reflect on the underlying darkness.

Across from me is Susie Welch’s former house, and what should be a pleasant morning is marred by visions of bones and missing women.

I’m lost in thought when Taylor slips inside.

“Any word on Fiona?” she asks, a sprig of hope in her voice.

“None,” I answer glumly.

“Lucas is going for a hike with his father. They said you could join them,” she tells me.

I groan on the inside. “What? Go hiking with Rick and Lucas? Now?”

Taylor sends me an imploring look. “Yeah, Rick asked me to go with them, but I said you’d probably love to go on a hike, since you’ve never been to the lake before.

I’ll stay and watch the kids. I’ll tell David I made you take a break to experience some of the area’s scenic beauty. He’ll be fine with it.”

I’m aware I agreed to get to know Lucas better, but traipsing off into the woods with a potentially dangerous musician and his Duck Dynasty dad isn’t high on my morning wish list. But since I don’t see an easy way out, I agree to go.

I’m sure David trusts Taylor with the kids as much as he trusts me. He’s known her far longer.

In no time, I have on pants and a lightweight hoodie as part of my anti-tick ensemble, and off I go.

I come around the corner to see my hiking companions standing on the same patio where Lucas and Fiona had their tongue-wrestling match.

Father and son don’t seem particularly close.

Lucas has his back to his dad. He’s shuffling his feet, hands stuffed in his pockets.

I don’t blame him—I don’t want to acknowledge Rick, either.

He looks intimidating in camouflage pants, a matching shirt, and an orange vest. He’s also holding a rifle.

I head back to the house to tell Taylor we’ll try another way that doesn’t involve weaponry, but Rick homes in on me with his hunter’s eyes. “Hey, Izzy. Glad you’re joining us,” he says.

Busted, I turn around, resigned to my fate. I sidle up to Lucas, reminding myself not to be taken in by his friendly grin.

Meanwhile, Rick looks excited to kill something. It’s puzzling, because I don’t think it’s hunting season until the fall.

He notices me eyeing his attire, and especially his firearm.

“We’ve got a coyote problem around here,” he tells me. “More than a few local cats have gone missing. We have a year-round license to hunt them, so I hope we get lucky on our hike.”

I’m hoping the coyote gets lucky.

“You should both put on vests,” Rick instructs. “I doubt there are other hunters, but better safe than sorry.”

Reluctantly I take one of the orange garments he holds out and slip it on like a smock. I look like a walking traffic cone, but it’s better than being mistaken for a target.

Lucas puts his vest on, rolling his eyes at his father. It’s probably more about the getup than his stance on killing animals. We fall into step behind Rick, who walks like a man on a mission.

The trail is easy enough to navigate, which is a relief. Dressed in camo, Rick looks like a soldier in the war movies my dad likes to watch. His eyes are ever vigilant, probing the dense woods for any sign of movement. Even though I don’t know him well, I feel a duty to warn.

“I hope you don’t shoot at anything that moves,” I say tentatively. “Fiona might be out here somewhere.”

“Don’t worry. I work as a hunting guide. I know how to identify a target before I shoot.”

I’m on a hunting mission myself, and my target is walking five steps in front of me.

We’re heading up a slight incline, and already I feel out of breath. I’m pondering ways to break the ice when Lucas slows down. Before I know it, we’re marching side by side on a path narrow enough for leafy branches to brush our shoulders.

“My mom gave me the fifth degree because of what you said to the police,” he informs me.

I should have been prepared for this. I did rat him out, after all. Perhaps my preoccupation with the bones and the lake lore short-circuited my common sense. Then again, I have an impulsivity issue. And a bad-boy problem as well.

I try to read his emotions. His eyes are veiled behind sunglasses. His mouth is in a half smile, which is annoyingly ambiguous. He’s either toying with me or letting me off the hook.

“Yeah, I’m really sorry about that,” I say.

I don’t mean it, but maybe it will soften him up if I’m apologetic.

“I just happened to be up on the deck and saw what I saw. And then the police started asking questions about Fiona, and I felt I had to be honest. But I’m sorry if—” My thought is cut short as I stumble over my words and the uneven terrain simultaneously.

I fall forward, realizing a second too late that my foot has caught a rock jutting out of the ground.

Thankfully, Lucas is lightning fast. He shoots out a hand and seizes my arm just in time to save me from an embarrassing tumble.

Once I’m steady on my feet, he lowers his sunglasses, peering at me over the rims. His emerald-green eyes mesmerize me.

Have I ever seen someone with eyes that color?

They’re flecked with gold, and the longer I stare at them, the more I can understand how Fiona crossed a line she maybe shouldn’t have.

I’m here on a fact-finding mission, I remind myself. It’s possible that Lucas has done something awful. Until I know more, I can’t let myself get distracted.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently.

I stare at him, unable to find the words.

It’s those damn eyes, or maybe it’s just all of him.

Does the forest smell like sandalwood, or is it Lucas?

Whatever it is, it’s earthy, slightly sweet, and fully enticing.

“You’ve got to keep your eyes open out here,” he tells me.

“You don’t want to be chasing after those twins on crutches. Your job is hard enough.”

I offer an uncertain laugh. “They’re all right,” I say. “I’m enjoying it much more than I expected.”

I bite my bottom lip to stop from saying more. An experienced nanny would know what she was getting into, but Lucas doesn’t seem to give it any thought.

“Your dad is kind of intense,” I whisper, even though Rick is a good twenty feet ahead of us.

“Yeah. Try being his disappointing son.”

“Are you two close?” I ask. This might be the icebreaker I need.

“Not especially. He threatened to send me home if I didn’t come on this hike, not that I even care about being at the lake. I’d rather be playing gigs with my band.”

“I’ll have to check out your music,” I say. “Are you on Spotify or anything?”

“Not yet. We’re going to the recording studio soon, though. We just need a little more money. But my dad’s acting like my life is basically over. He’s pissed I’m not going to college next year, and he’s taking it out on me every chance he gets—thinks I’m demonstrating poor judgment.”

I try to suppress a laugh and fail.

“What?” he asks.

“I mean, I watched you kiss the very drunk thirty-year-old girlfriend of your next-door neighbor, so I think your dad might have a valid reason for questioning your judgment.”

He throws up his hands. “Yeah, that was not what it looked like.”

I raise my eyebrows at him.

“Okay, it is what it looked like,” he confesses. “But I didn’t kiss her back. I realized it was a bad idea and I pulled away. She took off. I don’t know where she went after that.”

He sounds convincing, got to give him credit. But I stuck around long enough to know he kissed her as much as she kissed him. Right?

Suddenly, I’m not so sure. At the time, I was overcome with surprise. I search my memory, but two scenes play out in my head: one with Lucas pulling Fiona close to him, and another where Lucas pushes her away. I can’t say which is true. If I had stayed longer to watch, I would have known.

“I promise I’m telling the truth,” he says, like I’m his girlfriend, and he’s pleading his case. “She was drunk, and I’m not into her. She just caught me by surprise. If you talk to Taylor, you can tell her that.”

My memory comes into sharper focus. Now I’m sure that I saw him kiss her back—with intensity. I can’t say what happened after that, but I’m certain that Lucas is lying.