“You’re two minutes late,” his voice came through, deep and tense with concern.
“Sorry, I got distracted.” I stared at the box, debating how much to tell him over the phone. If the note was right about walls having ears...
“Distracted by what?” he pressed.
“I found something,” I said vaguely. “I’ll tell you when I get back. Everything’s fine.”
A pause. “You sure?”
“Positive. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”
I ended the call and tucked the box into the waistband of my jeans. It made an awkward bulge, but it would have to do. As I replaced the floorboard, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched. I scanned the barn’s shadowy corners, half-expecting to see Margret lurking there again, but saw nothing.
“Come on, Scout,” I said, hurrying toward the door. “Let’s get out of here.”
Outside, the winter sun was gone behind storm clouds. I locked the barn door and turned to leave, only to freeze in my tracks.
Fresh footprints in the snow led from the trees to the back of the barn—footprints that hadn’t been there when I arrived.
Someone had been here while I was inside.
My heart hammering, I grabbed Scout’s leash tightly and set off at a brisk pace toward Ella’s house, resisting the urge to run. Running would make me a target. Instead, I walked purposefully, scanning my surroundings, one hand on the pepper spray in my pocket.
We were halfway back when Scout suddenly stopped, hackles rising. A low growl rumbled from his chest as he stared fixedly at the tree line to our right.
I followed his gaze but saw nothing—just trees and shadows and snow. Still, I trusted his instincts more than my own eyes.
“It’s okay,” I murmured, tugging gently at his leash. “Let’s keep moving.”
As we continued, I noticed Scout was still rigid beside me, and I couldn’t relax until Ella’s house came into view, and I saw smoke curling lazily from the chimney. Caleb must have managed to stoke the fire.
The moment we stepped inside, I locked the door behind me.
“Found something interesting?” Caleb called from the living room.
I shrugged off my coat, careful to keep the box hidden against my skin as I unclipped Scout’s leash. The dogimmediately trotted over to Caleb, who scratched behind his ears absentmindedly, his eyes fixed on me.
“Someone was there,” I said quietly, crossing to the couch. “Fresh footprints by the back of the barn that weren’t there when I arrived.”
Caleb straightened, wincing slightly. “Did you see who?”
“No. And Scout got spooked on the way back. He kept staring at the tree line.” I glanced toward the windows, suddenly aware of how exposed we were. Drawing the curtains closed, I added, “But I did find this.”
I pulled the box from my coat and set it on the coffee table between us.
Caleb leaned forward, eyes widening. “Where did you find it?”
“Under a loose floorboard near the back door. Scout was sniffing around it.” I sank onto the couch beside him. “It’s locked.”
“Of course it is,” Caleb muttered, lifting the box to examine it. He turned it in his hands, fingers tracing the keyhole. “The lock is a standard pin tumbler.”
I raised my brows. “Meaning?”
“It’s nothing fancy.”
“Oh. Well, can you open it?”
A ghost of a smile crossed his face. “One of my many useless talents.” He set the box down and reached for his wallet, extracting what looked like a credit card. “Got a paperclip?”
