She grabbed a jar of olives and held it up for his approval. “I can use this as a weapon.” Like bringing a knife to a gunfight.
“I’ll clear the house.” He shut the door.
Heart pounding, she released a slow breath and tried to remain calm while hiding in a kitchen pantry with a cell phone and a jar of olives.
Dad ... what did you get me into?
Footfalls sounded in the kitchen. Cressida squeezed back into the far corner of the large pantry, and then—of course!—she knocked into something. It rolled, then crashed to the floor. Great. She’d just given away her position.
She didn’t know who was in the kitchen, but it didn’t sound like Braden’s cadence.
The lights suddenly flicked back on—she could see under the door. If she flipped the switch, the pantry light would come on too, but she didn’t want to draw more attention to herself than she already had.
Her palm grew sweaty around the olive jar. What was she going to do? Throw it at whoever opened that door?
God, helpme!
The room was quiet except for creaking—had the intruder left? She released her pent-up breath, feeling like a complete coward.
Lord,please let Braden be all right.Someone was in the house ... and Braden missed them? Or was Braden hurt? She didn’t know, and not knowing was driving her crazy.
I can’t just wait in the pantry. I’m not going to die in here. If he doesn’t show up in five minutes, I’ll go looking for him.“Cressida,” Braden said. “It’s me. Don’t kill me with your olive jar. You can come out now.”
She burst out of the pantry, wielding the jar like she would a javelin, ready, set, aim, and go. “Someone was here, Braden. Someone was in the house.”
“I just checked everything.”
“The whole house?”
“Yes, though quickly.” Still gripping his gun, he looked out the kitchen window.
“Well, they were here in the kitchen while you were looking everywhere else.”
He still hadn’t looked at her. “How do you know?”
“Footfalls. It wasn’t you, okay?”
“I believe you,” he said. “Someone shut the power off. I turned it back on. We’re getting out of here.”
“Okay. Good idea. Can we get my stuff first?”
“I’m not surethat’sa good idea.” Holding his gun, he looked wired and ready to shoot anyone who walked into the kitchen.
“What is that smell?” Through the wide arch she could see the rest of the house. The bright kitchen lights were on, and the rest of the home was dimly lit with a few lamps on here and there. But flickering caught her attention. “Braden. It’s a fire. The library is on fire!”
And I left the diary!
“Let’s go.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her away from the windows as he ushered her to the back door, covering her as if he was well trained and had practice. She appreciated his willingness to give his life for her. But...
“What are you doing?” she asked. “I’m not a target here. Someone is burning down the library to stop us from learning what this is about!” She stopped in her tracks, causing him to stop too. “Braden—she needs protection at her hospital room.”
“Already on it. She’s well protected.”
“But why is this happening?”
“We can talk about it later. We’re leaving. I never should have agreed to this.”
Braden used his radio to call for emergency services.
