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It was getting darker so much faster, it seemed. By the time I stalked up to the Meadowses’ front door, the streetlights flashed on. I glanced at the driveway, where a car was parked. I assumed it was Lark’s.
I wasn’t working this case in an official capacity, but if Winnie was lying to Lark, I wanted to know. If someone was taking advantage of her, I couldn’t let that slide—not even if it was her own mother.
I stepped up to the front door, hesitating slightly before I rang the doorbell.
A beat passed before there was a muffled cursing and hurried footsteps from inside. My heart rate escalated as the click of the lock sounded and the door wrenched open.
Winnie’s eyes widened as she took me in. “You’re not the pizza I ordered.” She sounded both utterly disappointed and shocked.
I shook my head slowly. “No, definitely not.” My gaze flitted over her quickly, my attention snagging on her leg. A leg that was coincidentally missing the boot she’d been wearing a few days ago.
Winnie shifted, stepping halfway behind the door and shielding the leg I’d been staring at. “What are you doing here?” she snapped.
My focus sharpened on her. “I thought you had hurt your ankle?” I said it lightly, yet the hint of accusation lingered in my tone.
Her lips formed a thin line. “That damn cast thing gets itchy. I need some relief every once in a while.”
“Huh.” I scrubbed my jaw. “Interesting.”
I didn’t mention how her footsteps had sounded fast, not at all like she’d been limping. And she had seemed to be bearing her whole weight on it when she answered the door.
“Was there something you needed?” Winnie said, voice like a razor’s edge.
“I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions, actually.”
“Questions? About what?”
“About your accident.”
Her body stiffened. She didn’t even try to defend herself before slamming the door right in my face.
I blinked. “That went well,” I muttered under my breath.
Gritting my teeth, I debated what would be the best path forward. Winnie obviously wasn’t about to let me call her out, but I couldn’t jump to conclusions—no matter how obvious—until I spoke with her.
But it didn’t look good for Winnie Meadows.
A heavy breath left my lungs as I gathered up the patience to ring the doorbell again. Winnie would be prepared now. She’d be on her guard, and I had to be ready for that—if anyone answered the door.
My finger was poised before the small, round button when footsteps sounded behind me.
I glanced over my shoulder in time to see her pale-blonde hair as she ran up the porch steps.
Lark’s foot paused on the top step as she noticed me.
“Reid?” she breathed, and the panic in her voice made me whirl around to face her.
I took her in, from her wide, glassy eyes to her flushed cheeks. Her hair was wild, the wayward strands sticking to her cheeks and her lips. She didn’t seem hurt or injured, but she looked absolutely terrified.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, taking the few steps that separated us.
Her slender brows furrowed as her gaze bounced down toward the phone she had gripped in a vise. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed, eyes returning to mine. “It’s—nothing.”
“Doesn’t look like nothing.” I didn’t miss the slight tremor in her limbs. “You’re shaking.”
Her bottom lip wobbled, but she bit down on it and shook her head. “Don’t worry about it.”
My stomach clenched as I resisted the urge to reach for her. I’d seen Lark in much worse positions than this. I’d seen her at the very worst moment in both of our lives, but I’d never felt the urge to…comfort her like I was right now.
