Page 191 of One Big Little Secret

“Goddamn,” he grumbles when he sees me in the kitchen. I open the fridge to find the orange juice, almost empty now. “Been a real bastard of a day. First Colt stayed up too late playing his Xbox after I told himtwiceto get the hell to bed. Then the traffic, taking Evelyn to the airport—Christ. I was stuck listening to her sob story for almost an hour.”

I’m barely listening, too busy sniffing the open juice carton.

Smells like orange. Everything seems normal.

But a second later, as I turn to him, his words sink in.

“What sob story, Arch?”

“Nothing, man. Don’t worry about it.” He folds his arms, deflecting like he shouldn’t have said anything.

My eyebrows snap up.

“Goddammit, Arch, this isn’t the time to play stupid.” I slam the carton on the counter so hard juice sprays out. My heart shouldn’t beat like this when it’s probably nothing. “What sob story?”

“I told her I wouldn’t say anything,” he grumbles.

“Funny,” I say, my voice heavy, “because I toldherthe same thing.”

He stops scowling and studies my face. “What? What are you talking—”

“Archer, whatstory?” The harshness in my voice surprises even me.

Then he sighs.

He tells me the same thing Evelyn told me—she’s neck-deep in debt and she can’t make the deal we offered her work—so he offered her a private loan. A hundred and fifty thousand in his case, softie that he is.

“Shit.” My gut clenches. A brutal possibility hits me like a brick. “She played us, Arch.”

“Evelyn Hibbing? Hell no. There’s no way she’d ever—” He stops, his face souring. He prides himself on being the kind of guy who doesn’t get played, especially not by a little old lady who’s been around for our whole lives.

I don’t wait for his response. I’m already texting Dex, asking if she told him the same thing.

Yeah. How’d you know?he replies a minute later.She pulled me aside when I came to pick up Junie, after they baked a cake.

My head’s about to pop right the fuck off.

I still don’t understand how it could be related to what’s happening to Arlo, but I know it reeks.

I dive into the trash can, pawing through it like a demented rat, the dread in my gut turning to solid lead.

Something isn’t right here.

“Hi, Archer,” Mom says as she comes back in. She attempts a weak smile. “Did Evelyn make her flight okay?”

I swing around to face her. “We need to do a sweep.”

“If there’s any poison in this house, it won’t be in the kitchen,” Mom says, frowning. Archer glances between us.

“Poison? What are you guys talking about?”

“Doesn’t matter,” I snap. “I don’t mean obvious poison, Mom. We need to look for what’s missing. Is there anything out of place around here?”

Archer catches on immediately, but instead of agreeing, he frowns. “Do we need to call the cops?”

Mom stares between us, bewildered.

“Please, Mom. Trust me, just have a look around,” I urge.

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