Shit, almost missed him.
I swiped to accept. “Hello?”
“Brooklyn West?”
“Yes, sir. I’m Brooklyn.”
“I hope you don’t mind me calling. I saw your message and figured you’d probably still be awake.”
Given I’d sent the message about twenty minutes ago, that’d been a good bet. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”
“You’re not. My husband’s out tonight, and I’ve been wandering around the lighthouse. My phone notified me of a message on my business line, and I wondered if it might be important. Sounds like you’re in a bit of a difficult situation.”
Since I’d word-vomited Cheyenne’s predicament to his voicemail, he was aware of just about everything. I cleared my throat. “Can you help us?”
“Yes, I believe I can. You said something about an in-home doggie daycare business?”
Had I?
Word vomit.
“Uh, yeah.”
“Would it be okay if I came to your house tomorrow? I like to get out of the office sometimes, and I have to say I like dogs. If it’s okay for me to be there, of course.”
George, Hiro, Poppy, and Jett. No one shy with strangers. No Maisie and none of Arthur’s dogs, unless he changed his mind. For a moment, I hoped and crossed my fingers—don’t think about Arthur. Focus. “I’d really appreciate if you could come here. Cheyenne and I will be home all day.”
“Text me your address. I’ll come first thing, say nine a.m.? Then we can get a petition going with the courts. I think you’ve got a strong case, but I have a lengthy list of questions to ask both of you.”
“I—” I swallowed hard. “I’m worried about her.”
“You have the right to be. Legally, you should be calling your parents and letting them know that she’s safe and with you—but I understand why you haven’t. If you can establish it’s for her safety, that protects you. That’s why I want to put a priority on gathering information and then get an emergency request in to the court tomorrow.”
After a moment, the tightness in my chest eased a bit. “Yes. Thank you.” I had no idea how I’d pay him, but it didn’t matter—whatever it took to keep my sister safe.
“Nine o’clock all right?”
“Yes. Perfect. Thank you.”
“Good night, Brooklyn.”
“Good night, Mr. Cavannah.”
“Just Wynn. We’re going to be working pretty closely together, so Wynn’s fine.”
My heart lightened a little more. “Yes, thank you.”
He cut the line.
I texted him my address, and then I stared at my phone. My first instinct was to call Arthur. To share this news with him. To get his perspective on things. But he’d chosen to leave and disentangle himself from this mess. I didn’t blame him. The West family could be a disaster at times.
Still, I popped off a quick text asking if he was settled and how his menagerie was doing.
When I went to bed an hour later, he still hadn’t responded.
CHAPTER 13
ARTHUR
