Page 31 of Weight of Guilt

Before she could consider it too long, Wren’s phone rang.

Wren stood and pressed the phone tight to her ear. She turned toward the window, putting her back to the table. “Cody, slow down. What happened?”

“It’s Roy.” Cody paused. “Wren, he’s dead.”

Her breath caught. “Uncle Roy? What happened?”

“The body on the trail—the one I thought was a hiker. It wasn’t. It was Roy.” He paused, radio chatter in the background. “I can’t get into details. Not over the phone.”

“Cody . . .” Her thoughts continued to race, nearly falling over each other as she processed the news.

Uncle Roy hadn’t been her actual uncle. But that’s what they’d all called him.

He’d handled promotions for her and her sisters when they’d traveled to perform, and he and her father had once been close.

Over the years, they hadn’t seen him as much. But in some ways, he still felt like family.

“There’s an active scene here,” Cody continued. “Investigators are already talking about it like it’s more than natural causes.” He blew out a breath. “That’s all I can say.”

Behind her, the refrigerator hummed. Nobody at the table spoke, but she felt everyone listening to her half of the conversation.

“Thanks for telling me,” Wren finally said.

“I didn’t want you to hear it from someone else. But I gotta go. I’m . . . I’m sorry, Wren.”

Cody had known how much Uncle Roy had meant to her at one time.

The line went dead before she could ask anything else.

Wren lowered the phone and stared at her lockscreen—a photo of her and Mason after a hike last year. Her mind snagged on the timing of Uncle Roy’s death.

The same day Christian walked out of the woods, Uncle Roy was dead . . . possibly murdered.

Her blood went cold.

She turned. Everyone was waiting for an explanation.

“That was Cody.” She set the phone on the counter, working to keep her voice even. “He just wanted to let me know that Roy passed away.”

Nora’s hand went still on her glass. “Roy? Our Roy Callahan?”

“Yes, our Roy,” Wren said.

“Today?” Marlowe set her fork down. “Christian comes back today, and Roy dies today?”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it.” Her gaze went to Christian, curious to see his expression.

He didn’t seem to recognize the name. That was good. She didn’t want to throw anything else on him. He was already dealing with so much.

But she couldn’t help but wonder if this was all connected.

Chapter

Fifteen

Wren’s thoughts continued to race, pieces of an imaginary puzzle trying—and failing—to connect.

Nash caught her eye across the table. He tilted his head toward the door, and she nodded. He wanted to talk privately. So did she.