Page 100 of Cabin Fever

I read the words as another wave of emotion hit me. I felt sick to my stomach.

"He was a child and they wanted to murder him. But why? What could be so important as to kill people, especially a baby and then try to target a little boy?"

Bea exhaled and leaned back on the small couch. "I've thought about this for a long time. I don't know why they were after Senator Fitzwilliam, but I think they meant to only have him killed. But once he disappeared, they had no idea if Carter's father told him anything. To cover their asses, they set about trying to find him and Carter and make them disappear permanently."

My eyes burned and I let a wail loose, not caring if anyone heard. Bea's arms wrapped around me and she let me weep. I had only known Carter for two-and-a-half months, but it felt like these people were after my family. They wanted to kill the man I loved, and I hated them for that.

"Is that why you became obsessed with the disappearance of the Fitzwilliams as a kid? You overhead Dad on the phone talking about it?"

Bea nodded. I always thought my sister was different than most kids, a bit more mature for that reason. Now I understood the weight she was carrying on her shoulders—a secret no child should hold.

"Bea, I'm sorry. I wish you had confided in me."

"And risk popping the magical bubble my little sister lived in? I loved you too much to ever do that. I was jealous of your joy and happiness, knowing what I did about Dad and the Fitzwilliams. No matter how many fights we had over the years, I would never burden you with that. But now that you're in love with Carter, I felt you needed to understand what was at stake."

After learning this, I was thankful Carter hadn't come home with me to meet my family. But would I ever be able to go back to be with him? Was it too dangerous? I didn't want Carter hurt or worse, killed because I was selfish enough to want to see him.

There was noise coming from the bathroom downstairs. A male and a female voice.

Both Bea and I jumped from the sofa. She grabbed my hand and dragged me up the stairs toward the meeting room. We sat quietly at the top of the stairs and listened as a very familiar voice became clear—Derrick.

THIRTY-TWO

Carter

IFELT LIKE A STUFFEDpig and everyone was salivating for a taste.

"When I last saw you, you barely came up to my hip," an older woman said in a gold shimmering dress and a pile of salt and pepper hair piled on her head in a tangled bun. I assumed she meant for her hair to look that way as I witnessed her touching it several times in the large mirror that hung over the fireplace.

My uncle was the attorney general, and I had met him only two days ago. He nodded along with the woman.

I liked my uncle Dashiell Fitzwilliam. My dad used to call him Dash, and he asked if I would do the same. I did. I could tell he missed my father because when he looked at me, he had the same faraway expression my grandmother had when she first saw me two days ago.

It was a shock meeting my grandmother and an even bigger surprise when she wanted me to immediately come back to DC to meet the rest of the family. She promised I would be protected and the crazy thing was; I believed her.

Or, maybe I hoped to see Olivia.

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