Troy opens his mouth as if to argue my decision but then closes it and nods, his expression more worn than before. He knows Stephanie and Jason are right.
“With that decided”—Jason sits straighter, a smug smile on his tanned face—“Savannah, you should leave now since you are no longer part of the festival.”
The emptiness leaking in doesn’t waste time. It consumes me, takes away another piece of control I was fighting hard to reclaim. Takes away the feeling of making a difference I so desperately wanted. To feel needed. Worthy. Whole.
And I’m left with a lonely stretch of nothingness inside me.
* * *
An hour later,Troy finds me typing away in the corner of the library, my back to everyone.
“You ready to go home?”
“Yes.” I close my laptop and gather up my things. “How was the meeting?”
“The committee has a list of what we need to do to keep the damage from Pushing Limits pulling out to a minimum.”
He might not say it, but I can tell what he’s thinking. He’s not sure the suggestions will be enough.
He pulls me to my feet. “Your home or mine?” He kisses me, a barely-there pressure on my lips.
“Mine. All my research and craft books are there and there’s a plot point I need to sort out. Assuming you’re still serious about the sabbatical.” Which hopefully won’t last long—for both our sakes.
“Very serious. Until the cops figure out who’s been threatening you, I don’t want you alone at the office. We don’t know what kind of person we’re dealing with. They’re leaving notes now, but what’s next? Phone calls? Hiding in the parking lot, waiting for you to leave?”
Oh, God. The phone call. From a few weeks ago.I gasp, recalling it.
“What?” he ask quietly, so as not to draw any unwanted attention our way.
“It might be nothing, but a few weeks ago I answered the office phone. No one replied but there was a breathing noise on the other end, so I know someone was there.”
“There was?” Troy frowns. “Why am I only hearing about it now?”
“It didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. I thought maybe it was a prank call. Bored teens.”
“Did you mention it to Noah or Officer Hunt?”
“No. I’d forgotten it until you mentioned phone calls.” I grab my purse from the chair next to where I was sitting.
“Okay, I’ll let Noah know about it. Do you remember when it was?”
I think back to that day. “Two days before the protesters showed up and someone defaced my front door.”
So, almost three weeks ago.
Troy picks up my laptop. “Let’s get out of here and swing by my place so I can get Butterscotch and my stuff. And anything else you might need while you’re working from home.”
He doesn’t say it, but the implied,while you’re practically locked away so no one can hurt yousettles in the air between us.
49
JESSICA
September, Present Day
Maple Ridge
On Wednesday,the weather decides to work against me. Bad news for the tourists who want to go to the mountains and enjoy a sunny day. Bad news for me since I love to write in my garden.
