Page 119 of The Souls of Lost Lake

“Oh my gosh! Oh no!” Wren cried, excitement flooding her. She spun away from Eddie, hustling past Troy.

“Wren!” Eddie shouted.

She ignored him and dodged behind the cluster of trees, where Jasmine was still huddling. Obedient. Shaking. Jasmine stared up at her.

“Honey.” Wren reached out a hand. “Come with me.”

“I’m scared,” Jasmine whispered.

“Don’t be. It’s time to go home.”

Wren wasn’t sure she would ever forget the impact of the moment when they entered the hospital emergency room and Meghan’s cries echoed through the halls as she held her baby girl. The Rivieras huddled together, embracing each other, Jasmine held in Ben’s arms and Meghan wrapped around them both. Her eyes briefly met Wren’s with a sincere and tearful look of gratitude.

A nurse urged Wren past them. She followed, reaching behind her for Eddie’s hand. The nurse opened a room and motioned for the bed.

“In here. The doctor will see you shortly. We’ll get your wounds cleaned and treated. The police have questions for you as well. The doctor may want to do an X-ray on your wrists to make sure there’re no fractures.”

She wouldn’t argue. Wren had wondered that herself. Ever since the adrenaline of being found had worn off, her wrists throbbed exponentially. She slid herself onto the hospital bed, swinging her legs onto the mattress. Eddie stood off to the side as the nurse laid a warm blanket over her.

“You can leave your shoes on,” she said. “If you get cold, the button to call us is right there. But we won’t be long.”

“Thank you,” Wren sighed as her head lowered to the pillow. She wasn’t sure she’d ever experienced such luxury as a hospital bed and pillow. She almost laughed at the idea, but then exhaustion was fast seeping into the marrow of her bones.

Eddie sank into a chair, his arms resting on his bare knees. His gray shorts were frayed at the hem. His shirt was a camp T-shirt, and he’d jammed a baseball cap onto his head. He had a small growth of whiskers. His eyes were tired. Sorrowful. Yet he stared at her with such an encompassing hunger that Wren almost felt nervous. Eddie had never looked at her with such rawness, so openly, so undisguised.

“I’m okay,” she assured him.

Eddie smiled a little. “I got back today, and no one could find you. The police called Dad about the break-in at our place.”

“Redneck Harriet.” Wren would be happy never to see that awful doll again. To think that Pippin had written her name on its foot and given it to Jasmine as a play toy! The poor kid would probably have nightmares the rest of her life about creepy old dolls with human hair.

“How did you find us? How’d you know to look in that region of the forest?”

Eddie blew out a huge breath. “Man, you’ll never believe it.”

Wren closed her eyes for a moment. “Nothing would surprise me.” She’d already told the police about Pippin’s involvement. But she hadn’t even broached the full depth of his motives, and she was still perplexed as to what had caused him to take Jasmine so many years after their mom’s death.

She did know, thanks to an update from Troy, that the police had apprehended Pippin. They’d found him in the basement of the Blythe home—apparently he’d been putting together a pack of items. It hadn’t appeared his intention was to leave with Wren and Jasmine. Rather, he’d been intending something far less palatable.

Eddie’s upcoming explanation was halted as another person knocked lightly on the glass door. Wayne Sanderson. He poked his head in.

“I’m so sorry. I had to sneak in past the nurses. They’re like bulldogs.”

“What do you need?” Eddie asked for Wren. He must have felt protective, even against Wayne, who was remarkably harmless in the whole thing. Eddie rose to his feet anyway and positioned himself beside Wren’s bed.

Wayne hesitated. He looked past Eddie to Wren. “I—this is probably a bad time, but...”

Wren waited. Wayne was pretty much the king of bad timing, so she might as well give him that allowance.

Wayne hefted a deep breath. “I need to apologize. Profusely.”

“Why?” Wren felt another wave of exhaustion make the room spin. She noticed Eddie roll his wrist in a motion for Wayne to hurry up and explain.

“The woman in the woods.”

“Ava Coons?” Wren asked.

“No. Her name is Isla.” The admission was quiet, followed by, “Isla Nesbitt.”