Page 42 of Weight of Guilt

Nothing.

“Hello?” Her own voice came back sharper the second time.

Silence and then . . .

Breathing.

Wren’s stomach dropped. She hung up without another word.

Marlowe was in the doorway when she turned around. “Who was it?”

“It was no one.”

“It didn’t sound like no one.”

Wren forced herself to let go of the phone. “Okay, it was someone. But . . . they were just breathing.”

“Just breathing?” Marlowe narrowed her eyes. “Like creepy, horror movie kind of breathing?”

She hesitated, unsure how much to share.

“What is it?” Nora stepped inside.

“There was another call like it last night. I dismissed it, thought it was just bad timing,” Wren admitted. “Now maybe I wonder if it wasn’t.”

“Wait . . .” Nora squinted. “What’s going on?”

Wren explained the details of both phone calls.

Nora’s eyes widened. “You think these calls might have something to do with Christian?”

Wren shrugged. “I don’t know anything for sure. Maybe that’s part of the problem. There are so many unknowns . . . and I think we’re making a mistake by just sitting back and waiting for someone else to call the shots here.”

Nash was refilling Tank’s water bowl when Deb called him back.

“That was quick.” He moved the phone to his other ear so he could keep filling the bowl.

“You know I don’t sit on things.” She paused, papers shuffling somewhere on her end. “I called in a favor with a friend.”

“I appreciate that, Deb. What did you find out?”

“You’re going to want to sit down for this.”

“I’m not sure I like the sound of that.” Nash pulled a chair around from the table anyway and sat, elbows on his knees.

“The man you asked about—Everett Voss. I looked into him.”

Nash’s grip tightened on the phone. “And?”

“He’d done some odd jobs for the Lovelesses that summer. According to the file, he was actually on the property that same night Christian disappeared. He’d been hired to help set up chairs and a sound system for the album party.”

“Tell me more.”

“He left around seven, by his own account.” Deb paused. “But a neighbor driving by saw his truck parked on the side of the road closer to seven-thirty, which put him unaccounted for during the exact window the boy went missing. When investigators pushed him on the discrepancy, he changed his story.”

His jaw twitched. “What did he say?”

“At first, he said he’d forgotten something and had gone back for it. Then later he said he couldn’t remember the timeline at all.”