From the moment they’d set their sights on coming here, his gut had been telling him this would be a dangerous mission. And while the dog had been alarming, it was not the battle his subconscious had been anticipating.
Maybe he’d been wrong, and there was nothing here to fear. Or maybe they’d only scratched the tip of the iceberg, and theTitanicwas about to go down.
He plopped down on the bed and closed his eyes, letting his mind wander. His last coherent thought was that he should have been with Joanne in the next room, as fatigue abruptly overtook the last vestiges of consciousness.
23
Joanne awoke from a deep sleep feeling more rested than she had in weeks. She opened her eyes. Making love to Sloan came back to her in a rush of heated memory, along with what they needed to do today. In an instant, her anxiety was back.
Where was Sloan?
She sat up, making her way to the heavy drapes and opening them to a dark and rainy day. That didn’t bode well. The door to the adjoining room was open, and she crossed to it. “Sloan?” The bathroom door was closed and she could hear the shower running. The bed had clearly been slept in, and she frowned, not knowing what to make of that.
The files from the plumbing supply company were spread out on the desk. He must have come in here to work, or else he was having second thoughts about last night and wanted to put as much distance between them as possible. She wasn’t sure she wanted to know which.
She needed to find her Rolaids. Returning to her room, she dialed Evelyn’s cell phone. Fiona answered. “Hi, Mom. We made rainbow pancakes with sprinkles!”
“Wow, it sounds like you’re having fun.”
“Mmm-hmm. Miss Evelyn’s going to draw with me next. She’s playing poker with Lucas.”
“Poker, huh?”
“Yeah. We did Crazy Eights first. I won thirty-eight cents.”
Of course they were betting for money. “That’s awesome, sweetie. Can I talk to Evelyn for a minute?”
She got on the phone. “How’s it going down there?”
“So far, so good. We found some records I hope will point us in the right direction. How are the kids?”
“Lucas and Fiona are good. April spent last night moping around the house. Something about a boy you won’t let her talk to.”
Jo pinched the skin between her eyes. “Can I talk to her?”
“She isn’t awake yet. Nothing surer to drive two lovebirds together than to forbid them from seeing each other.”
“Ev, she doesn’t even know this boy! She met him online. What if he’s a stalker, or a predator of some kind? She invited him to our campsite in Chicago without asking me and Sloan nearly shot the poor guy.”
“Good lord.”
It occurred to her April might have reinstalled the same app. She hated to be so suspicious of her own daughter, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t. “Can you do me a favor?” She walked Evelyn through how to search for Instagram on April’s phone.
“Nope, no Instagram.”
Jo exhaled and dropped her shoulders. “Thank God. Let’s hope it stays that way.”
“Should I wake her up or just let her sleep?”
She looked at the clock, surprised to see it was already almost ten. “Let her sleep another thirty minutes or so, then you can wake her up. Thanks, Ev.”
She hung up just as Sloan walked into the room with only a towel slung around his waist, the smell of soap surrounding him. His prosthetic was once again in place.
“You ever take that thing off around women?”
“All the time.”
She really didn’t like that answer, especially coupled with her insecurities over him sleeping in the next room. “I’m going in the shower.”
