Page 14 of Our Little Secret
“We’ll see. You filed a police report?”
“Yeah. The police showed up just after we exchanged insurance information.”
“Okay. Good. Then let’s put it behind us for the night.” He pulled his phone from the back pocket of his jeans and glanced at the screen. “Besides, the pizza will be coming in a while. Anchovies and all.”
“You didn’t,” she said as they walked inside, and Neal poured them each another glass of wine.
“Nah, but I wanted to, just to yank Mari’s chain,” he said.
“I think it’s been yanked hard enough for one day. She wasn’t exactly thrilled that I was late picking her up and Andrea had to drive her to the gym.”
“She isn’t exactly thrilled about anything right now,” he said.
“Amen to that.”
Nearly an hour later, after Brooke had been on the phone texting with other mothers at the school and scouring the Internet for stories and the community Facebook pages that offered up local news, she gave up. No one had new information about the missing girl.
Brooke was sick inside. “I can’t imagine what those parents are going through. Dear God, if it was Marilee, I’d be going out of my mind.”
“But it’s not her. In fact, she’s home tonight with parents who just don’t understand her.”
The doorbell chimed.
“Finally,” Neal said as he spied Marilee in flannel pajamas, a towel twisted over her wet hair, phone to her ear, hurrying down the stairs. “Speak of the devil.”
“Me? You’re talking about me?” she guessed with a shake of her head. “Well, don’t. Okay? Just . . . don’t!” Into the phone, she said, “No, no, not you. My dad.” She was dashing into the front hallway and opening the door. Neal and Brooke were a step behind.
The pizza deliverer stood in the porch light. His red baseball cap was pulled down low over his eyes, but Brooke recognized him instantly.
Her heart nose-dived.
Her stomach soured.
Gideon.
The delivery guy was—
No!
—on her doorstep! At her house!
“I put a tip on the bill,” Neal said as Gideon handed the box to Marilee, giving her one of his killer smiles, though she might not have noticed as she was deep into her phone conversation as she grabbed the pizza on the run, dashing back inside.
Brooke’s blood froze. He’d never come to her home before. Never. That was one of their unwritten rules.
Gideon turned his gaze to Brooke, who was standing woodenly in the entry. He handed her a paper bag. “You all have a nice night.” He touched the brim of his cap, but his eyes followed Marilee’s hasty path.
Brooke sucked in a sharp breath.
Her skin crawled.No!
“You too. Have a good one.” Neal, seemingly oblivious, was already turning toward the kitchen, following Marilee. Numbly, Brooke stared at him. What was he doing here? Why was he looking at Marilee. . . oh God. She thought she might be sick. She started to close the door, but through the ever-narrowing space saw Gideon smile and whisper, “Face-to-face.”
CHAPTER 4
“Something bothering you?” Neal asked the next morning as Brooke opened a bleary eye, then stretched on the bed.
Neal was already up and showered, his wet hair glistening as he adjusted his tie and caught her gaze in the mirror over the bureau.
