Page 140 of Our Little Secret
“Then?” he nudged.
What was that old saying about holding a grudge? Brooke mused.That it’s like poison? You drink it and hope it harms the other person?
“I’m on it.” Brooke texted her daughter, asking for Leah’s number.
When she didn’t get an immediate response she texted again, asking Marilee to pass the word to Leah that she was welcome.
Even if it was a bit of a lie.
“Done,” she said, ignoring the uneasy feeling that had lingered ever since finding the bracelet. She spent the next few hours making certain the guest room was ready, that the sheets were clean, and the pillows plumped. Then she washed most of the dishes. Though she’d had the house cleaned by the local housekeeper before she and Neal arrived, Brooke didn’t trust that all of the old cutlery, pots and pans, and dinnerware were dust- and/or spider-free.
More than that, she had to stay busy and keep her mind off the fact that at any second she could find some other reminder that Gideon had been in the cabin.
Eventually, Marilee texted both her parents to let them know that she’d been dropped off in Marwood on the other side of the bay and was boarding the ferry to the island.
“You’re not coming with me?” Neal asked as he slid his arms into the sleeves of his parka and patted his jeans pockets to make certain he had his keys.
“No, you go. Have a few minutes alone with your daughter. I mean, how often does that happen?” Brooke said.
Neal’s forehead wrinkled and the look he cast over his shoulder told her that he thought she was acting out of character.
She was.
But she had to.
She needed time alone.
“I thought you’d want to come,” he said, stuffing a pair of gloves into his jacket pocket.
“I do, but I’ll get everything ready,” Brooke assured him. “Marilee will probably be starved. I’ll get dinner together.”
“Dinner can wait.”
“It’s already late,” she argued. Why was he being so damned obstinate? She made waving gestures with her hand. “Just go! Go! She’s already on the ferry.”
“Okay.” He gave her one more puzzled glance, then said to Shep, “Maybe you want to come along.”
And then he was out the door, the retriever bounding ahead of him.
Brooke wasted no time.
She turned on the oven.
Then, the second she heard the engine of the Honda rev and tires crunch on the drive, she flew into the laundry room, retrieved the damned bracelet, and dashed outside. Using the flashlight app on her phone for illumination, she darted into the woods and along the path toward the sea. She didn’t have time to get across the island and back again, so, for now, she raced to the bend in the path by the old stump. There, between the roots, she stuffed the horrid bit of jewelry in the same spot she’d hidden her diary as a child. Later, as a teen, she’d tucked in one of Nana’s Mason jars for the cigarettes she’d swiped from her mother’s pack, and the stash of weed she bought off the kid down the street, back in the days when she got high.
Now she pushed the sand off the rock that hid the hole, then jammed the bracelet into it, replaced the rock, and covered it with bits of leaves and small branches, before running back to the house, washing her hands, and trying to calm her jangled nerves.
The oven was hot and she slipped in a frozen potpie.
She tried to convince herself to calm down. With the bracelet out of the house, she could relax.
Or could she?
What if Gideon had left more little “surprises” for her?
What if she—or Neal—or even Marilee found something else he’d planted, some little reminder of the time they’d spent together?
Or Leah? What if her sister went nosing around?
