Page 91 of Weight of Guilt

Wren turned that over. “So he knew it existed. He knew it was buried out there somewhere.”

“That’s what it tells me.”

“But not exactly where.” She wrapped her arms around herself. “Somebody who’d been told about it would know that much.”

Nash didn’t answer, which was an answer.

“Luke left the box in the barn in case Marlowe wants it,” he said instead.

“I’ll let her know.” She paused near her car and glanced up at him. “Thanks for the updates. What are you doing today?”

He put his back against the door so he could see the road. “I’d like to look into Everett Voss more. Everybody leaves tracks somewhere. I want to see what I can find.”

Wren hesitated, something clearly on her mind.

He waited for her to say it.

“This probably doesn’t mean anything,” she finally started. “But I feel like I should mention it.”

“Go ahead.”

“Cody called me last night when I was at the hospital. He’d come to drop off Mason, and he saw the broken glass. I told him I was at the hospital.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Does he know about Christian?”

“I didn’t tell him. But he knows something is going on.” She paused. “He doesn’t usually have loose lips, but . . . I don’t know how much he knows or if Christian told him anything. I don’t know if he’s mentioned any of this to anyone. I just . . . I don’t know. I wanted to tell you in case it’s important. It’s probably not. I also don’t know how long we’re going to be able to keep Christian’s reappearance under wraps.”

“Thanks for letting me know.”

“I wanted you to know . . . just in case.” She held his gaze a second longer, then let it go. “I’m working until I pick up Mason at school at three. I’ll miss the start of the interview.”

Nash frowned at the idea of Wren being out of his sight, especially considering last night’s events. But she was an adult, and she wouldn’t want to be babysat.

“Anybody there with you today?” he asked instead.

“Lots of people. It’s a hair salon off the square in town, Nash. We’re booked solid and very visible.”

“If anything starts to feel wrong, call me.”

“I will.”

Nash wished that made him feel better. But it didn’t.

Chapter

Forty-Six

TEN YEARS AGO

Christian couldn’t see Glowworm Guy’s face as he walked into the woods. Where had he gone? He’d sounded pretty close . . .

Then a hand had covered his mouth, and his feet had lifted from the ground.

Glowworm Guy wasn’t a kid, was he? He was tall and strong.

He was a grownup.

Fear shot through him. Coming into the woods was a mistake.