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He was quiet for a moment, the sound of rain evident through the phone. It was really quite a storm. “Peter Baker’s land is partially in Salem, partially in Cherrytree Hills,” he admitted. “It’s right on the border, about ten miles from where you were picked up.”
“Shit,” I mumbled. Maybe it was Old Man Baker, and I had misread the entire interaction.
“Why do you ask about Salem?”
“No reason, really.” I wasn’t quite ready to lay out all my cards yet, and it really wasn’t a solid lead anyway. I was simply drawing theories from the limited information I had. “Just a hypothesis, but I’ll keep you posted if it actually goes anywhere. Does anyone else in town own land around Salem, perchance?”
“A few people, actually. I can pull a list for you when I’m back at the station,” he offered.
“That would be perfect. Thank you so much.” Darren really got a bad rap from the people of Cherrytree Hills, but I could understand both sides. They were angry he hadn’t stopped the murders, but he had been put into a nearly impossible situation.
“I’ve actually gotta get back to my run. Call you later?”
I agreed and hung up, looking at my stack of files with a newfound appreciation. Maybe Salem was a lead after all. I still doubted it was Old Man Baker, but I couldn’t discount it. But why would he lead me to the place we were held if he had planned on taking me there anyway? There were too many questions and not enough answers.
I jotted down a few notes on what I had found and my theories as the rain beat against the windowpanes. I looked out River’s bedroom window, watching the downpour. Who knew if Lexington could even drive home in this weather?
It was strange to miss someone when they had been gone for only a few hours. I had incredible friends, and my uncle and extended family loved me dearly. But this longing I felt for Lexington was entirely different. If I could, I’d choose to spend every waking moment with him—a startling shift for me, considering how fiercely independent I’d always been, facing this world alone. Being around Lexington and having him in my corner made me realize that being so independent hadn’t been a choice, but a requirement to survive everything I had gone through.
I stared at the file again, wishing Lexington were here to go through it with me, but continued my reading nonetheless. I had nothing else to do, and River was still happily playing, now talking quietly to himself and mimicking his toys. A smile pulled at my lips just watching him—he really was the best kid.
A crash sounded from the kitchen, and I was on my feet immediately. It was raining hard, but not hard enough to break windows.
“Goldie Girl?” River asked quietly from his spot on the floor, his wide green eyes trained on me.
“Stay here, okay?” I instructed softly. “I’ll be right back.”
“Goldie,” he whimpered, but didn’t protest, and I tiptoed out of the room and into the hallway, careful to be as silent as possible.
The lights were off in the rest of the house, the rainy weather keeping the interior dim. I snuck forward into the living room to see it empty. Keeping along the wall, I made my way toward the open kitchen door and leaned in to see the back door shattered and a figure climbing in. I felt my heart jump into my throat, but I didn’t have time to panic. I needed to protect River. I ran as fast and as silently as I could back to River's room, easing the door shut behind me.
“River,” I whispered, going to his side. “I need you to listen to me, okay?”
He whimpered again, tears forming in his eyes. “What’s happening?”
How did I explain that someone was breaking into his home—the place that had always been safe—and I was ninety-nine percent sure it was the same man who had held me captive for months and was responsible for countless deaths?
I cradled his face gently and did my absolute best to remain calm despite the hurricane of emotions inside me. “It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. I just need you to listen to me.” The sound of another crash resonated through the closed door, and I could hear footsteps, presumably looking for me. I needed to act fast. I pointed to the ceiling. “I’m going to lift you up into the attic, okay? I need you to stay up there and stay as quiet as a mouse until you hear your dad.”
“I don’t wanna,” he complained.
“I know.” My voice cracked, and I looked around his room, finding his stuffed alligator and handing it to him. “But I need you to do this for me, okay?”
Finally, he nodded, just as a tear slipped down his cheek. I took a brief moment to hold him tightly in my arms, knowing I would do whatever I needed to in order to protect him. He held his alligator in his arms as I picked him up and walked over to the dresser that sat directly under the attic door. I set him on top and climbed up myself. It was a reach, but I managed to unlatch the hinged door and opened it just enough so I could lift River up into the attic. The sound of crashing and footsteps grew louder throughout the house, but I didn’t focus on that. Not until River was safe. Finally, River was in the small attic space, his wide green eyes looking down at me.
“I’m scared,” he whimpered.
“I know.” I looked around. I needed something—anything—to help Lexington find out what had happened. I jumped off the dresser, grabbed my notebook, slammed it shut, and climbed back onto the dresser. I handed the notebook up into the ceiling. “Your dad will find you, I promise. Give this to him, okay?”
He nodded softly and took the notebook, clutching it alongside his alligator. “Quiet as a mouse, remember?”
He nodded again, and I eased the door shut, giving him a soft, “I love you, River,” right before it closed.
I jumped off the dresser and looked around for anything I could use as a weapon. The baseball bat, I thought, turning toward the door. It was a risk to go and get it, but it was either that or get taken regardless. With River now safe, I had nothing to lose. I eased the door open, my heart pounding in my chest, and looked down the hallway. There were sounds coming from Lexington’s room, but I couldn’t see anyone. I tiptoed out of the room and toward the kitchen. I turned the corner into the kitchen to see it empty, the wind howling through the broken glass of the back door. Rain was blowing in from the storm, and I glanced around, finding the bat next to the back door just as I heard heavy footsteps coming my way.
I grabbed the bat and whirled around just as the intruder entered the kitchen. A startled gasp shook through me. “Silas?”
Lexington