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Thunder rumbled outside as the rain intensified. It fit the moment and also brought me some relief. Every drop of rain helped hide the evidence. Groza would suspect, but no one would know for sure.
“Do you think it’ll be enough?” I said to Jaysa.
“I don’t know. Hopefully.”
She didn’t know much, did she? I held back my cutting words, afraid I’d lose the only allies I had, even if they were ghosts.
“Maybe I should leave. Staying might not be wise. But I can’t abandon Charlie again. That was a mistake. I can’t just disappear and reappear over and over again. It will mess him up more than I probably already have,” I said, leaving a path of wetness as I paced the small kitchen.
“He needs a pack. He’s a shifter,” Jaysa said, seeming to think she was in a position to scold.
She wasn’t.
“Don’t act as if you have the answers when it’s very obvious that you don’t. I’ll make the final call on what I have to do.” She’d turned me into a guide, with no real idea of what it would do toa human. Now I was killing people with my touch, and when I looked at her, she stared on with a shrug. She’d lost all right to vote.
“If you flee, they’ll know it was you. They’ll hunt you down and kill you. The rain is heavy now; hopefully, it will mask most of your scent. But you need to get a grip. Walking around like this, you might as well hang a sign on your door proclaiming you’re a murderer.”
I looked at Widow Herbert, who nodded slightly.
“She’s right,” she said. “It’ll look like guilt, and they’ll most likely catch you, especially with Charlie in tow.”
A murderer.She was right about that. I was a murderer, but they were going to kill me first. That counted for something.
“Okay, I’ll stay. I can’t go to the roast, though. I’ll pretend I’m sick.” Even the rain didn’t stop the roast gathering from happening. They’d gather under the many porches and the large gazebo.
“Only tonight, though. You can’t start hiding. You need to be seen, act normal. If you hide, your absence will be remembered when they start looking for suspects,” Widow Herbert advised.
“Yes, you need to act normal,” Jaysa added.
“She’s not going to be good at this,” Widow Herbert said, looking at Jaysa. “One of us is going to have to try to stay with her in public to help.”
“I can see that,” Jaysa said.
More coffee to warm up might not have been the best idea. I’d already been jittery and shaking, and yet somehow I’d thought a cup of coffee would soothe me.
A noise behind me had me jumping out of my chair so fast I nearly fell over. Kicks was there, standing in my kitchen, watching me as I barely stayed on my feet.
I looked past him to the closed door. If he’d wanted to kill me, he could’ve accomplished it several times over already, so why was he here?
“You can’t just walk in my house.” My voice was brittle. The day had worn me thin.
He didn’t leave, or even glance at the door. “It was better than drawing attention to myself on your stoop.”
“And why is that?” I crossed my arms, inching backward. There was something that made me feel incredibly vulnerable being in this small kitchen with him. Given the way he was crossing toward me and closing the gap, the feeling was not mutual.
“What did you want?” The counter hit my back.
“I saw you leave this morning with a hat. When you came back a little while ago, you look rattled and your hair was soaked. Something happened.” He leaned on the counter by my hip as he waited for a response.
My hat. I’d left the damned hat in the woods. How could I have forgotten something so obvious? I had to go get it. Now. He had to leave.
“Was there a question in there somewhere? I’m still trying to figure out what you want.”
“What happened in the woods that’s gotten you jumpier than a live wire?” He tilted his head down, his eyes piercing into me.
“Nothing. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to get going. I have things I need to do today.”
I went to slide away, and his arm blocked my other side, caging me in.
