“Is Blake with them?” Wendy asks urgently.
“No, he’s already on his way back in his own car. He apparently left the meeting early because he wanted to check on you.”
Wendy slips her hand into the pocket of her cotton sweater, yanks out her phone, and immediately taps the screen. “Blake, whereareyou?” she asks after the call’s clearly gone to voice mail. “Call me. Please.”
“Maybe he’s in that dead zone,” I venture.
I don’t like this. I don’t like it at all. Ash isn’t well. Blake can’t be reached. And we’re alone in the house—withHannah. Outside, dusk has morphed into darkness and once again I hear a far-off rumble of thunder. The houselights briefly flicker. I glance at the exterior kitchen door to confirm I turned the bolt after returning from the cottage.
Across the room, Keira removes her apron and tells us the lasagna has another thirty minutes to go, and she intends to wait in her bedroom and try to read. She departs withoutacknowledging the bomb I detonated a few minutes ago. Is she simply going to ignore it?
As soon as she’s gone, I fish out my own phone and text Gabe.
Heard the news. Is there anything I can do? I could Uber there if you need me.
I can’t help but feel a pang that he didn’t reach out to me directly, just counted on Keira to spread the word. Meanwhile, Wendy is still urgently tapping away at her phone screen.
“Still no luck?” I ask.
“No, and it’s worrying me. I think I’ll try calling him from the landline in the den and see if the problem might be with the cell service here. What are you going to do?”
“I guess I’ll wait here.” My gaze drifts to Bella and Ginger, who are both staring at me intently. They’re wigged-out by the thunder, but I also suspect they need a potty break. “And I guess I should take the dogs out.”
“Good idea.” As she steps toward the door, she turns back and smiles wanly at me. “I’ll talk to Blake tonight, I promise.”
“Thanks, Wendy, I appreciate that so much.”
I’m pretty sure I can count on her to inform him. But will it be couched in the wordsSummer’s gone insane? I have this terrible feeling that I might regret sharing my knowledge with my sisters-in-law, that nothing will result except a widening of the rift between Gabe and me.
Desperate for a task to slow my pulse, I whisk together olive oil and vinegar for the salad, then check my phone, hoping that Gabe’s texted me back, but there’s nothing. The only ones eager for contact with me appear to be Bella and Ginger, who are now waiting anxiously by the kitchen door.I wish I could stall and take them out when everyone’s back, but it wouldn’t be fair.
I flick on the outdoor lights from the switch in the kitchen, unlock the door, and cautiously step outside, glancing up and down the patio. I’m not sure what I’m looking for. The coywolf? A sexual predator? All I know for sure is that it’s dark out here, and there’s an aggressive wind whipping through the tree leaves. I’m under the pergola so it takes a minute for me to realize that it’s finally raining now.
“Stay,” I yell to the dogs, who by now are off the patio and sniffing around the lawn.
They take their damn sweet time, but I can hardly blame them. How much have they even been out today? As they press their noses into the wet grass, I stand near the doorway, my arms crossed over my chest, praying they’ll make it quick.
“C’mon,” I call nervously after a couple of minutes. Ginger raises her head with a cheerless expression that seems to ask,Really?but she lumbers toward me obediently, shakes off the rainwater, and trots into the house. Bella, however, refuses to budge. And then just like last night, she suddenly dissolves into the darkness.
“Bella,” I shout. “Get over here.”
A sudden streak of lightning splits the sky directly in front of me, briefly illuminating the night. Bella is now pretty far from the patio, I see, and exploring the underside of a bush. Leaving the back door open, I make a mad dash across the lawn, but as I’m about to swoop her up in my arms, there’s a deafening clap of thunder and she takes off like a rocket toward the area north of the pool.
“Bella,” I scream, unable to see her. “Don’t be stupid.”
I race back to the house, grab her leash from a hook in the kitchen, and nearly rip open the drawer where the flashlights are stored. After grabbing a torch and flicking it on, I tear back outside.
“Bella... Bella,” I yell, approaching the end of the pool. The beam of my flashlight bobs as I go, making it hard to focus.
There’s no sign of her. Torn between an urge to cry and another to strangle her, I pause long enough to train the light toward the small hill that descends to the tennis court. She might be cowering in the shrubbery there.... Nothing.
I start down the hill, being careful not to slip on the slick grass, the wind whipping my hair. Up until now, I’d been helped a little by the glow cast from the house, but I’m beyond it at this point. There’s another huge bolt of lightning and then, almost simultaneously, the deafening sound of thunder rolling over the yard.
Finally, I hear her. A whimpering noise not far ahead. And a rustling, too.
“Bella, come here, girl,” I call. “Bella,please.”
For a split second the wind ceases, and finally Bella inches into the beam of the flashlight.
