“Please, Ozzie? Half an hour. Then call. If I don’t answer, come check on us.”
“Okay, fine. I’ll call. But you better answer if you’re able. I don’t want to drive up there just to find out you left your phone out of earshot.”
“I will keep it on me. And we should have a code word.”
He chuckled. “You watch too many murder shows.”
“I don’t watch any, thank you very much. I read books.”
“That’s even worse.”
I smiled but continued like he hadn’t protested. “Toren has a chicken named Eloise. If I mention her by name, we’re in trouble.”
He huffed a laugh. “Okay.”
Saying goodbye, I hung up, then put my foot down, only slowing when necessary on the curves.
I still hadn’t passed him by the time I approached the twisted pines that marked the turn off for the long, winding, rutted road that led to his house.
My seatbelt held me tight as I braked hard and swung into the turn. Immediately, I hit a rut and bounced in my seat.
Maybe slow down a little, Lana.
I let off the gas just a tad, heeding to the state of the drive.
Moments later, I was glad I had.
Rounding a bend, I hit the brakes, skidding on the gravel as I steered around the mud-spattered, twenty-year-old gray SUV parked half off the road.
My heart climbed into my throat. Whose car was that?
I stopped behind it.
For a split second, I debated whether to park and get out or to drive around it, but rationality won out and I went with caution. I killed my car’s engine and got out.
Sticking to the dirt beside the driveway that was covered in pine needles, I walked toward Toren’s house.
As I neared the clearing, the sound of a male voice carried toward me.
That wasn’t Toren’s voice.
I hurried to the tree line, stopping behind a particularly thick trunk, and peered toward the cabin. Only the chickens in the yard—the ones that were supposed to be locked up—moved.
Taking my phone from my pocket, I glanced at the signal icon. I had a bar.
I didn’t dare call, though, just in case my voice carried. It might not go through, either, with such a low signal. So, I brought up my messages and typed out a single-word text to Ozzie:
Eloise.
Chapter 31
Toren
“Sit down, McCrae. You’re making me tired just watching you stand on that foot.”
Deke gestured at one of my kitchen chairs with the barrel of the pistol in his hand.
Glaring, I sat. Not because he told me to, but because I’d stepped wrong outside when he ambushed me, and now my bad foot was screaming. I needed to get off it and let the ache ease a bit to clear my head, so I could think straight. Leaning forward a bit, I kept my weight over my good foot, so I could get up quickly if I needed to.
