Page 106 of Weight of Guilt

Chapter

Fifty-Four

Wren was still on the bottom step when Luke started giving orders.

“Everybody out in the hall.” He didn’t turn around. “We need to clear the school.”

“You think it’s a bomb?” Wren nearly whispered the words.

“I think we can’t take any chances.”

“Sheriff.” Nash spoke from behind her. “Are you calling somebody?”

“Nearest bomb tech’s out of Knoxville.” Luke’s jaw worked. “Hour out, hour to work it.”

“Are you calling him?” Nash asked.

“I’m thinking.” He stared down at the box. “It’s not taped.”

Nash moved up behind Wren. “Sheriff⁠—”

“Flaps are just folded over each other. Anybody could’ve opened it.” Luke crouched. “And he carried it in one hand. Watch the footage again. He had it up on his hip as if it were empty.”

“That doesn’t make it safe,” Rowe said, his face paler than it was before.

“No.” Luke stayed where he was. “But he walked it past a hundred kids with it up on his hip. He wasn’t afraid.”

Nobody said anything.

“We don’t have a lot of time right now.” Luke looked back down the stairs. “Get everybody out. All the way to the fence. Wren, that means you too.”

“I’m not leaving.” She crossed her arms.

“Wren.”

Her gaze locked on his. “Luke, just open it. Please. I have to know. What if whatever is inside leads us to Mason?”

His jaw tensed. “I’m nearly certain this isn’t an explosive. If I really thought it was, I wouldn’t open it. Having it checked first is protocol.”

“We trust your instincts,” Nash said.

Luke hesitated one more minute. Then he pulled gloves off his belt and worked them on, one hand and then the other.

He didn’t touch the box. He turned his head, working the seams with his eyes. Then he put his face down close to the cardboard where the flaps crossed.

Finally, he took the corner of the flap between two fingers and eased it up.

Nobody made a sound. Wren had both hands on the rail.

He reached in.

Wren couldn’t breathe as time seemed to turn into a slow-moving plasma.

He lifted something out and held it up.

A gray, floppy rabbit.

Wren gasped and sat down hard on the bottom step as her legs gave out. Concrete drove up through the hip she’d landed on Sunday night. She didn’t care. Nothing mattered right now except Mason.