“Maybe,” Jason finally said. “None of this is really making sense right now. What I do know is that the storm is bad enough right now that if Olive and I went after him, we’d risk not making it back.”
Tevin pushed his glasses up, worry etched across his face. “But we can’t just do nothing.”
“Doing nothing is sometimes the only way to survive.” Rex’s tone sounded calm, but Olive thought she heard something under it—a tremor, maybe.
Jason set his mug down and crouched by the fire to thaw his hands. “We’ll go out again as soon as visibility improves.”
Mara’s face was pale as she gripped the back of the nearest chair as if to steady herself. “If someone forced Warren into these mountains, he still has a fighting chance. My Warren knows the area around the inn better than anyone. He’s guided search parties before. I’ve got to believe he’s capable of getting away and finding shelter.”
No one disagreed, but no one looked convinced either.
Mara thought her husband could have gotten away if someone coerced him into the woods. But Olive knew the better possibility was that someone had led him away from the inn and hurt him.
But she didn’t speak the words aloud. Maybe it was better if Mara thought he’d left on his own accord.
Olive’s mind ticked through possibilities, as it always did—connections, motives, lies. She tried to focus on the warmth of the cup in her hands, the hum of the fire, the illusion of safety.
But then?—
Creeaak.
A sound drifted down from above them.
Soft. Long. Deliberate.
Every head in the room lifted.
Jason’s expression sharpened. Olive set her mug aside, pulse leaping.
Tevin glanced toward the hallway. “Where’s Trick?”
“He headed to the bathroom a few minutes ago. I assume he’s still there.” Mitzi turned toward the stairs. “But that came from the second floor.”
“Is that where Trick is?” Jason asked.
“No, he’s on the first floor,” Mitzi said.
Olive remembered the scent of coffee. The absent blanket on the upstairs bed.
They were missing something. That was the only explanation.
“I’ll check it out.” Olive headed toward the staircase.
Jason was beside her. “We’llcheck it out.”
They started up the stairs, boots whispering against the wood. The firelight flickered across the ceiling, casting moving shadows that made every beam and banister look alive.
Halfway up, the creak came again, somewhere down the hall.
Jason’s flashlight clicked on, the beam slicing through the dark.
Olive drew a slow breath, her heartbeat loud in her ears.
Someone—or something—was up there with them.
And this inn might have just as many secrets as the people being housed inside.
CHAPTER
