Page 17 of Weight of Guilt

Mason. She had to call Mason. She had to know her son was okay.

She told herself it was just because she missed seeing her son on weekends. And she did. His father had only gotten custody of him every other weekend two years ago.

Still, an irrational panic rose in her.

She supposed it was because seeing Christian had brought up so many bad memories. Christian was seven when he disappeared; Mason was seven now.

But she knew there was more to this than that. The fears that had haunted her every day since Christian’s abduction were taking hold again. If she let them, they would cripple her.

She found her sisters in the living room and dropped onto the couch. They all seemed to be in a daze.

“I don’t know what to feel.” Marlowe wrapped both hands around her mug. “Christian is home. He’s really home. After everything. Can you believe it?” Tears began pouring down her cheeks. “Maybe God really does answer prayers.”

Nora stood and paced to the window, her arms crossed. “I still think we need to be cautious. I mean, yes, he knows details other people don’t. But . . . I don’t know. This still seems surreal. I think we need to be careful. Especially if it turns out . . .”

“If it turns out what?” Marlowe’s voice sharpened fast, and her gaze filled with accusation. “You still don’t believe it’s him? He has the same scar on his arm that our brother did. Isn’t that proof enough?”

Nora’s jaw flexed. “I believe he knows things he wouldn’t know unless he’s really Christian. But belief isn’t evidence.”

“But—” Marlowe started.

“I’m not saying I don’t believe him,” Nora quickly explained. “I’m saying believing him and being careful aren’t the same thing, and I only know how to do one of those right now.”

Marlowe’s gaze remained stormy. “You sound like you’re building a case against him.”

“I sound like someone who doesn’t want this family to get hurt again.” Nora’s voice cracked on the last word. “I already watched it get destroyed once.”

“Girls, can we talk about what actually matters right now?” Wren interrupted. “Whether he’s really Christian or not . . . we’re not going to solve that today. We’re not going to solve that without a DNA test. But there’s someone out there who took him from us. Who kept a kid for ten years and let him go this morning for reasons none of us understand yet.”

“You think this guy is still around?” Alarm captured Nora’s voice. “That he might want Christian back? I mean, we don’t know anything. Did this guy let him go? Did Christian escape?”

Wren considered telling them about the phone call. But she didn’t want to stir up anything. It was probably nothing, and getting her sisters upset about nothing would be foolish. She’d wait to see if it happened again.

“I think if there’s ever a moment when the trail’s warm, it’s now.” Wren wrapped her arms over her chest. “And I think Christian might remember something that could help us find this guy. Whoever did this to him needs justice.”

Nobody said anything a moment.

“What about Mom and Dad?” Marlowe finally asked, all the earlier sharpness gone from her voice.

“We can’t tell them. Not yet.” Wren said. “Mom can’t handle this kind of shock without warning, and Dad—I don’t even know how you tell someone something like this over the phone. We need a plan before we tell either of them. We just can’t dump this news on them raw.”

No one argued.

Wren pressed her lips together, a thought trying to form on her lips.

Finally, she unleashed it. “Listen, I know this is going to sound strange. But I think I should talk to Nash.”

Both her sisters looked at her as if she’d spoken in a foreign language.

“Nash?” Marlowe arched an eyebrow. “The handsome, dog-hating neighbor?”

“He used to be a detective with the Tennessee Bureau of Investigations. Before—” Wren gestured vaguely at her knee, unsure how much detail she actually had a right to share. “I don’t know everything, but I know he was shot, and he’s recovering.”

“Is that right?” Nora frowned. “That’s serious.”

“It is,” Wren agreed.

“How about Luke?” Marlowe asked. “Luke is the Fog Lake Sheriff. Doesn’t he make more sense?”