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“How’s the food?” Mayor Bailley asks my brothers.
“Awesome!” Simon and Oliver cry out together.
The mayor grins widely and pats his soft belly. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying yourselves. You can have sandwiches anytime you like, but feasts like this? Not always.”
I can’t believe the mayor bought their story of eating sandwiches in the kitchen. The air in the room had been so heavy with their combined perfumes, I was afraid he’d figure out what they were all up to.
“Have you guys seen Rory?” I ask, yearning to spend a moment with her. Mrs. Norman took up all my time since we came here and I’m missing her like crazy.
Simon and Oliver glance at each other before staring back at me. “Isn’t she with you?”
“No. She’s been with you the whole time.”
“Nuh-uh,” says Oliver. “She hasn’t been around us since Mr. Mayor gave his speech.”
A sliver of anxiety snakes around my throat.
“Could she be in the kitchen?” I say uncertainly.
“Let’s check there and then, her bedroom,” says Mayor Bailley. His happy, relaxed expression is starting to fade. “Maybe she went in there to rest or something.”
Simon and Oliver wipe their hands and mouths before getting to their feet. “We’re coming with you.”
Relief washes over me. My brothers and I have completely different interests but when it comes to Rory, we’re all equally possessive and protective of her.
The mayor leads us into the kitchen first.
Opening the door, we find it empty. The half-eaten plates of sandwiches are still lying on the dining table. It’s apparent she never stepped into the kitchen a second time.
“Take us to her bedroom,” I say in a grim tone.
“All right. Follow me.” The mayor walks out into the hallway and leads us to a staircase.
My brothers and I keep a lookout, surveying the area as we head up to the second floor of the house.
Everything is still and silent. There are no signs of struggle or aggression anywhere.
I should be feeling relieved but a deep intuition is telling me that Rory is in danger, that nothing is as it seems.
“This is her room,” says Mayor Bailley, pushing open a door.
We barge inside the room that looks similar to her nest at home. The walls are a shade of crimson and so is the furniture.
“She’s not here either,” the mayor says in a disappointed tone.
My brothers and I fan around the room, taking in every corner.
“Do you smell her?” I ask my brothers.
“Very faintly,” says Simon. “I can’t even be sure if she’s come up here at all.”
“Same here.”
“Where could she be?” Oliver asks, looking anxious. “Even if this is her home, she’d never wander around on her own. There’s no way she’ll ignore all of us for so long and hide somewhere.”
“We could check the rest of the house,” the mayor offers.
I shake my head. “That’ll take too long. If you don’t mind, could you take us to the surveillance room?”
