“It was my grip,” I lied.
I’d nearly gotten a blister on my palm, but my grip had nothing to do with it.
“Sure, sure. Okay, so you think this is the clue?”
Landon, who’d assured me repeatedly that everything was fine after his confrontation with his father, walked in the room before I responded. He came over to where we sat on the floor and leaned down to kiss the top of my head. “I wanted to make sure you’re alright before I go set up for the party. Will you two be alright in here? I’ll see you in a few hours?”
I groaned. “Yes, we’ll be fine, but do I have to go?”
“Yes.” He laughed, smiling as if he too recalled our back and forth over the first party.
Covering my mouth, I coughed. “But I’m sick.”
He pressed the backs of his fingers against my forehead while I suppressed a smile. “You’re not warm.”
“You’re not either.” I blew him a kiss. “And that’s not an insult. I’m serious. You run cold in your sleep.”
With a laugh, he straightened and walked to the door. “I’ll see you later, Maiden.”
“Hey,” I called out when he reached it, and when he turned around, I checked for any sign of hidden stress. Finding none, I pointed a finger at him. “Don’t be late, Buns. Your actions reflect on me.”
He bowed his head, a teasing smile on his lips. “I won’t let you down, my Lady.”
Tapping his hand on the door, he nodded goodbye to Gia and looked at me one last time before heading out.
When he left the room, I shivered.
Gia’s brow furrowed. “Woah, is there a draft over there?”
I shook my head, frowning over my body’s reaction as I stared at my collection of clues. “I don’t think so. My blood sugar must be low, or my wires got crossed. Who knows.”
“We should probably eat before you pass out. You did a lot of exercise today.”
“Fine, but hand me that diary. I need to break the lock. Might as well kill two birds with one wood paddle while we’re down there, right?”
After she force-fed me one of Alice’s premade sandwiches, Gia followed me onto the back patio.
She eyed me warily. “Are you sure about this?”
“Of course, I am.” I lined up my paddle with the tiny lock on the diary. “It’ll be fine!”
I gave it a solid whack, and the paddle caught the edge of the lock. It launched the diary across the floor like a shot put.
“Oh, goddammit,” I muttered, crawling over to the table it disappeared beneath.
I winced as the stones dug into my knees and palms, but I stuck my hand under the tablecloth and searched around for it. When I couldn’t find it, I ducked my head beneath it too.
“Where the hell did you go?”
Heavy breaths, hot, sticky, and panting, came in response.
“Arghhh!”
I scrambled backward, scraping my knees deeper on the patio floor and rising onto them when my head cleared the table. The breathing grew closer, and I toppled onto my butt.
“Woof!”
“Brutus!” I cried out, frustration, fear, and a surprising bit of joy mixing at the sight of the big mutt. “What the heck are you doing under there?”
