Page 138 of Weight of Guilt

Then Mason’s arms tightened around her.

“Mom.” Something in his voice changed.

Wren lifted her head.

A shadow stretched across the floor behind them.

She turned.

Jacob stood in the doorway.

Chapter

Sixty-Seven

Nash saw the gun first.

Everything else dropped away.

Jacob stood in the doorway with one hand wrapped around a gun, the barrel angled toward the floor.

For now.

But there was something different about him. The easy expression Nash had seen at Nora’s house was gone. So was the helpful boyfriend who’d washed dishes and asked concerned questions.

This Jacob’s eyes looked flat and resolved.

Wren sucked in a breath. “Jacob?”

Nash stepped between Jacob and the closet—between Jacob and Wren.

He kept his attention on the weapon. “Wren, stay where you are.”

Jacob’s gaze shifted past him, toward Wren.

Nash moved another half step, blocking his view. “Look at me, Jacob.”

Jacob did.

Good.

Nash lowered his voice and used the same tone he’d used with armed suspects more times than he could count. “You don’t want this getting worse.”

Jacob gave a slight shake of his head. “You have no idea what I want.”

“Then tell me.”

For a moment, Jacob said nothing.

Nash studied the gun. Jacob’s finger remained near the trigger. His grip was too tight.

The man was nervous. A nervous man could still be talked down. But a nervous man could also fire before he meant to.

Behind Nash, Mason whimpered.

A muscle moved in Jacob’s jaw.

Wren’s voice came from behind Nash. “Why? Why are you doing this to us?”