Page 94 of Weight of Guilt

“Peg’s been processing eleven minutes, and you’re still standing here stirring. And you didn’t laugh at her sister-in-law joke.” Deja kept her voice low. “You always laugh at that one. It’s not even funny.”

Wren set the bowl down.

Tell her.

Then she pictured how the conversation would go. Wren would say Christian came home. Deja would be shocked and ask where he’d been, what had happened. Wren would have to say she didn’t know. Then there would be more talking and theorizing and questions.

She couldn’t handle any of that right now.

“I’m fine,” Wren finally said. “I just didn’t sleep very well.”

“Is this about Roy?” Deja lowered her voice. “Y’all called him uncle. I know that much.”

Her theory made the most sense, and it was partly true. So Wren nodded. “Yeah, Roy’s death has been a lot.”

Deja exchanged a glance with her in the mirror. Something about her look indicated that Deja knew there was more to the story.

But Deja wouldn’t be hearing those details from Wren. Not now, at least.

Wren was elbow-deep in color when her cell lit up. Cody’s name stretched across the screen. She pulled one glove off and reached for it, but the ringing stopped before she got there.

He’d call back. He always called back.

Then the shop phone rang, and Deja held out the receiver. “It’s Cody. Says you didn’t pick up.”

Wren stripped the other glove, excused herself, and took the call into the back room. “Hey.”

“The sheriff is working Roy Callahan’s death as a homicide.” He jumped right into the conversation without so much as a hello.

“I know.”

“What’s going on, Wren? And don’t tell me nothing. I pulled up to your house last night and the back door was busted.” His voice had an edge she hadn’t heard in a while. “Then you told me not to let Mason out of my sight. None of that is normal.”

Wren pressed her free hand against the wall as her head began to spin. “I asked you that because I was scared. That’s all it was.”

“What happened?”

Her heart pulsed in her ears. “I can’t tell you yet.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

Her gut twisted. “Cody . . . it’s complicated. And it’s not entirely mine to share. And⁠—”

“I think Mason ought to stay with me, Wren. Until this is over—whatever this is.”

His words took a moment to settle in her mind. They were immediately followed by panic. “What? What are you talking about? Mason lives with me. That’s our deal.”

“I can take him to school and practice and whatever else he has. He’s got clothes here.” Cody spoke as if he was reading from a list he’d written down before he dialed. “I think it would be for the best.”

“We have an arrangement.” Wren’s voice climbed higher, and she forced herself to bring it down. “Every other weekend, Cody. That’s when you get Mason.”

He sighed. “I know what we agreed to.”

“Then you know you can’t just keep him with you all the time. You were absent from his life for five years while you got your act together. You don’t get to step in and dictate this now.”

He didn’t respond right away. Then he said, “I called Sondra Pike this morning.”

Wren froze.