Page 53 of Weight of Guilt

“Why would he lie to Paige?” she asked.

“Because he was hiding something.”

Silence fell between them for a few seconds.

“Whatever your uncle was doing out on that road, he was doing it right up until the last full day of his life,” Nash said.

“Do you think . . . ?” She frowned before continuing. “Do you think he’s the one who took Christian? That he was driving back and forth to check on him? I mean, she thinks this is a recent development. But she’s only lived with him for a few months, so who knows how long he’s really been doing it.”

“I’m wondering if he was keeping Christian, and Christian figured out a way to escape. Maybe he hit him over the head and ran. That could have killed Roy. And the trauma from it could have caused the memory loss issues for Christian.”

Wren physically shuddered.

Paige walked them out onto the step and hugged Wren for a long time. “Tell your mama I said hello.”

“I will.” She wouldn’t.

Nash had the keys in his hand and wasn’t moving toward the truck.

“Paige, one more thing.” He took the receipts out of his jacket and held them up. “These were in the glovebox. I took them. I should have asked first.”

She squinted at them. “What are they?”

“Gas receipts. The truth is that I work for the TBI. As soon as I saw these, I realized they could be important. I’d like to give them to Sheriff Wilder.”

Her hand remained on the storm door. “You’re TBI?”

“And he really is my neighbor,” Wren added.

Paige barely seemed to hear her. “Do you think my uncle was into something? I don’t want you to run his name through the mud.”

“That’s not my intention. But he may have been murdered. And these receipts might help tell the police why.”

Paige looked at the receipts a while longer. “Take them. And you come back and tell me what you find out.”

“Here’s my number if you need anything in the meantime.” Nash handed her one of his cards, and she nodded in thanks.

Wren waited until she was inside Nash’s truck before she reacted. She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. “We have to tell Luke. All of it.”

Nash turned to her in surprise. “All of it?”

“Everything we’ve been holding since yesterday because we wanted to be sure first.”

“What changed your mind?”

Wren looked at Uncle Roy’s house. “Yesterday I thought we had time. I thought we’d figure out who Christian was first. Then we’d know what to say.”

Nash waited.

“Now Roy is dead—he’s been murdered. He’s been driving to the middle of nowhere every week, and we have no idea why. There’s clearly more going on here than I ever imagined.”

Nash nodded slowly. “Okay.”

As they sat there in his truck, she blinked at him. “That’s it? Okay?”

“You didn’t ask what I think. You told me what you’re doing.” He unlocked the truck. “For what it’s worth, I think it’s the right call. But it’s not my decision to make.”

“I have to tell my sisters first. I don’t know how they’re going to receive it.”