Easton and I head over to the ambulance, where they put pulse oximeters on our fingers while we sit on the back bumper. I look over at the cop cars again and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.
Agent Grant is there.
My mind goes to multiple places all at once. Miles said Grant lives nearby, but who called him? Or was that him in the sedan tonight? Miles also said he was retired, so he doesn’t have the authority to investigate.
Unless the FBI thinks there’s something bigger going on and he’s been assigned to watch us. He’s here to check up on me. And he’s been watching me and the Beaumonts.
Once the EMTs say we’re both fine, Marcus and Valencia each have their pulse ox read while I go back over to Miles, trying my best to ignore Agent Grant.
“Weird week, huh?” he asks, wiping sleep from his eyes. He’s wearing a pair of green pajama pants and a black Orville Peck concert tee.
“Yes,” I say with a sigh.
“Any chance you’ve thought any furth—”
“No,” I interrupt him. Though it’s not exactly true. I thought about it plenty before falling asleep a little over an hour ago. I just haven’t made up my mind yet.
“No, you don’t want to, or no, you haven’t thought about it?” I glare at him and his hands go up. “Okay. Your decision, your timeline.”
My eyes drift over to Agent Grant again. He’s staring right at me. “How long did that imposter get away with it?” I ask.
Miles thinks for a second. “Five months, I think?”
Way too long. I’ll be lucky to last five days if I keep drawing attention like this with an FBI agent in town.
The firefighters emerge from the house and take off their masks.
They approach Marcus and Valencia—Agent Grant stands behind them, close enough to listen. I don’t hear what they say over the sound of the fire truck’s engine. Easton is close to them, though, and turns to me with his eyes wide.
“Seriously, Nate?” he says.
Agent Grant locks eyes with me.
“Uh-oh,” Miles mumbles. “Girl, you might not have five months.”
I ignore him and walk over to the Beaumonts. Valencia is giving me a sad look, while Marcus and Easton have matching scowls.
“You left the gas on after you made your tea,” Easton says.
I did? No, I definitely remember turning it off when I poured the water. I shake my head. “No, no, I turned it off.”
“When did you make tea?” Valencia asks.
“He was in the kitchen when I got home,” Easton says.
“It was only slightly on,” the fireman says. “You probably thought you turned it all the way off, but while it was enough for the flame to go out, the gas valve in the stove was still a little open. It was a slow leak, which would explain why it only now set off the alarms. Good job on getting those, by the way. Most people stop at carbon monoxide detectors.”
“Can’t be too careful,” Valencia says. She was probably the one who insisted on the combination carbon monoxide and explosive gas monitors.
The fireman tells us to let the house air out for a bit but then we can go back inside. They drive away as Valencia and Marcus talk to the neighbors and tell them everything is fine. I last saw Agent Grant talking to one of the township officers, but when I look back, he and his car are gone.
Eventually we all go back inside. The four of us go around the first floor shutting and locking the windows before Valencia turns the alarm system back on.
I double-check that the window over the kitchen sink is locked and turn my attention to the stove. The kettle is still there. I turn on the same burner I was using to make my tea and turn it right back off.
The gas stops immediately.
I know I turned it off.
