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Pretty much every minute I’m not actually inside the walls of Linwood, I’ve got my face buried in one of my textbooks, cramming for whatever exam is coming up next. It’s a good thing I know winter break is almost here—and with it, access to the empty Black family mansion—or I’d have a harder time focusing on schoolwork.
My last test is on Friday, and by that point, I’ve gotten grades back for two of my other classes.
I got B’s in both, and I’m honestly thrilled. Considering what a wreck this semester has been, passing at all feels like an accomplishment. And I was still a little worried Savannah would find some way to fuck with my tests, but I don’t think she did. I earned those scores on my own.
The guys all do well. I don’t think any of them were worried. They’re all incredibly smart, and it sort of seems like excelling academically is just an expected part of the world they live in. In some schools, it would make them nerds and outcasts, but here, their straight A’s just make them more likely to go on to careers as high-powered businessmen or politicians or whatever.
The weekend after our last day of school drags by. We can’t go to Linc’s house until his parents leave on Monday, but now that homework isn’t sucking up all my available brain space, I’m chomping at the bit to get started. I visit Mom and pass on the message about making sure Scott Parsons sticks to his defense plan. I don’t tell her exactly where I picked up that little tidbit—I don’t want the guard overhearing us and getting Judge Hollowell in trouble.
Finally, on Tuesday afternoon, Dax and Chase swing by to pick us up. I practically sprint to their car, with River not far behind me, and Chase chuckles, glancing over his shoulder as I climb into the back seat.
“Now that’s the kind of greeting I like to see. Missed you too, Low.”
When we arrive at Linc’s place, Dax parks in one of the open garage spaces. It feels strange to step back inside the Black family mansion. It’s only been three weeks since I left to stay with River, but time has been doing funny things lately, speeding up and slowing down at random intervals, and it seems like it’s been so much longer than that.
Linc greets us downstairs, and the guys throw their stuff in a couple of guest rooms on the second floor. I drop my bags off in my old bedroom, glancing at the stacked boxes of my mom’s belongings as I do. They look abandoned, and it breaks my fucking heart.
Bri was given the week off to spend time with her family before the holidays pick up in earnest, so she isn’t around.
“Gwen will be here for a few hours every afternoon though,” Linc tells us when we reconvene in the grand foyer. “I didn’t want to tell Dad not to have her come since it would seem suspicious. So we’ll just have to break from searching while she’s here.”
“Works for me. And at least we’ll have food.” Chase grins.
I wish we didn’t have to stop for anything, but I also know it’s not really reasonable to think we’d spend all day every day ransacking the house either. And Linc’s right. Anything that draws attention or makes his dad suspect something’s up should be avoided if possible.
Hell, we probably shouldn’t even let Gwen know we’re all staying here—at least, not me.
“So how do we want to do this?” River asks, glancing around at our small group. “Work top to bottom, start with the most likely rooms first, what?”
“More likely rooms first, I think.” Lincoln purses his lips, the color of his amber eyes seeming to shift like flickering firelight. “Study, master bedroom, storage room. I want to see if I can get into the security system and look through old footage too, but I don’t know how far back it archives—and I have to be careful not to make it obvious I looked.”
“Okay.” Chase claps his hands, rubbing them together vigorously as a determined look crosses his face. “Let’s do this shit.”
Tearing the house apart looking for some unknown clue turns out to be both tedious and nerve-wracking. We split up to cover ground more quickly, but the mansion is fucking massive, and every little sound makes me jump. I’m not even sure why. No one’s here but me and the guys, but my heart still beats harder and faster than usual.
Lincoln and I take the study the first day, and despite Linc managing to get into a few other locked drawers in the room, we don’t find the paternity test or anything else that references Iris or a baby.
I hide upstairs when Gwen comes in the afternoons, and at night, the five of us gather in kitchen, eating leftovers of whatever she cooked and talking over what we found.
Which is always, disappointingly, nothing.
On Friday evening, Linc stands in the kitchen with his elbows resting on the marble counter and his face buried in his hands. He spent the day combing through the archived footage from the home security system, and every time I saw him, he was in a progressively worse mood. Now, he’s practically vibrating with frustration and anger.
“There’s nothing. Fucking nothing!”
He straightens, pounding the counter with his fists. When he turns to face us, I realize he’s got dark circles under his eyes that weren’t there when we started this search four days ago. He really thought we’d find something, and it’s killing him that we haven’t.
He’s not the only one.
&n
bsp; “The footage doesn’t go back far enough to cover the time when Iris and I were hooking up. I only brought her here a couple times, and I can’t tell if she was ever here before or after that. I don’t know if she met my dad here or not.”
“Even if she did, he could’ve gone in and deleted that footage, right?” River asks, his voice quiet and thoughtful.
“Yeah. Probably.” Linc shakes his head. “I know he was out of the house the night Iris was killed and got back a little before we did, but that doesn’t actually prove jack shit.” His agonized gaze shifts to me. “Your mom was out too, and we know she didn’t do it.”
I nod. The leftover pizza I’m eating is slowly turning into a rock in my stomach.
