“Fine. But from what Meredith’s told me, Landry and Bronwyn are good friends. I don’t see Bronwyn bringing her into the Pierce fold if she was a shrew. She sold some of her land to this woman. There’s nothing about this situation that says Landry is anything other than what she claims to be. A widow. A single mom. An employee at The Haven.”
“And what do you make of the fact that there’s no evidence there was ever a husband? Or that she’s clearly running from something?” Cal asked.
“Not all widows mourn their husbands,” Meredith said. “Her reasons are her own. She seems nice. Her daughter is adorable. I’d say you’re projecting your own issues onto this.” Meredith released Mo and hugged Cal. “Right now, your job is to keep an eye on her for Bronwyn. Then build her a beautiful house. And if possible, be her friend. It’s always a good idea to be friendly with the neighbors.”
“You’re related to all your neighbors, Mer.”
“Doesn’t change the truth of what I said. Just makes it harder sometimes.” With that, she kissed both Cal’s cheek and Mo’s before she climbed into her car and drove away.
Landry tucked Eliza into bed and eased her way down the short flight of stairs. When Cal mentioned that Meredith’s house wassmall, she’d automatically pictured something like a bungalow. She was completely surprised when they came around the curve and she got her first glimpse of the three tiny houses arranged in a semicircle.
Landry had never been inside a tiny house, and it was so much more than she’d expected. Meredith’s home was a masterclass in the efficient use of space. The alcove where Eliza slept was just big enough for a twin mattress and a few shelves. But did the guest area need to be any bigger? Not really.
The master bedroom was reached using a different set of stairs, and while the low ceiling would take getting used to, it held all the accoutrements of Landry’s own room. A queen bed, a TV mounted on the wall, a closet. There was even a reading nook with a lamp, a side table, and a squashy chair that would be a lovely place to decompress at the end of a long day.
The rain that had teased them on the drive over decided now was the time to make a bold appearance. Landry closed her eyes and concentrated on the sound. She loved rain. Always had. And tonight, when everything had spiraled out of control, it was like God was reminding her how much she was cherished. As if her Father was singing her a lullaby, his instruments the rain and a tin roof.
She didn’t waste time with a lengthy bedtime routine and was under the covers with the lights out ten minutes later.
Her phone buzzed on the pillow beside her. It was Bronwyn.
Settled?
Yes. Eliza’s in bed. So am I.
Sorry. Sleep tight.
I will. The rain? It’s going to be good for the smoke, but not the investigation. Should I be worried?
Jesslyn McCormick is in town visiting her grandparents. She’s a fire marshal from a town an hour or so away. She came by and volunteered her services. Gray said she was a big help, and she’s going to come back in the daylight tomorrow. The rain won’t do any more damage than the fire suppression foam from the sprinkler systems. And it will help clear the smoke from the air. Don’t worry about it.
Well, that’s good. But the worrying part. That’s going to happen.
Go to sleep.
Good night.
Landry set the phone back on the pillow and listened to the rain. Why would someone set fire to Favors? She’d picked up on the tension in the Pierce family and knew there was a faction that didn’t want Bronwyn in charge. They might be devious enough to try something like this. But wouldn’t burning down an income source be counterproductive?
The guests at The Haven were, for the most part, incapable of burning down a building. Well, of burning it down on purpose anyway. Those twins who visited in July managed to destroy the stove in their cabin while attempting to bake cookies. Break-and-bake cookies. Instead of placing them on a cookie sheet, they put them in the oven, still on the tray they came in. She supposed it was a small mercy that they took them out of the exterior wrapping first.
Not counting the twins, who despite their destructive cluelessness were quite sweet, most of the guests wouldn’t bother with such a violent approach. If they were angry, they might hire someone to sabotage The Haven. But she couldn’t see it. They’d rather use the vindictive powers of social media to run a smear campaign.
If it wasn’t the Pierces, and it wasn’t the guests, who else would have a vendetta against Favors? Or against The Haven?
Or, maybe, against me?
Landry had avoided that question all night. Whenever her mind had hinted at it, she’d firmly shoved it away. But here, in this cozy bed with the pouring rain providing a protective cocoon, she stared it in the face.
Could someone be coming after her? There was only one possibility.
But she was safe. Eliza was safe. The attorney had assured her when they spoke this summer that Dylan’s family had zero chance of ever taking Eliza from her.
At least not legally. Would her in-laws stoop to kidnapping?
A shudder rippled through her as she considered the depths of depravity and deception she survived during her three-year-long marriage. They were wolves in sheep’s clothing. They were the worst kind of Christians. The kind who smiled on Sunday and dared you to tell anyone about the knife they stuck in your back on Saturday because no one would believe you. Not even if you showed them the gaping wound.
Landry squeezed her hands into tight fists, then released them. The downward spiral of her thoughts slowed, and she refocused on the facts. Dylan’s family hated her. But destroying Favors was too tangential an attack to have anything to do with her. Or Eliza.