Page 144 of Always Be an Us

I gesture for Emma to take Grandpa off speaker. She nods and does so before pressing the phone to her ear. I'm pretty sure Grandpa starts telling her one of his stories again because she begins to murmur her assent while rolling her eyes occasionally. I crack a smile as I watch her from the corner of my vision, while I dial the police station.

Officer Jensen picks up on the third ring.

"You call me many more times, bud, and I'm going to start thinking you want to buy me a drink."

"Did you get anywhere on those pearls I gave you?"

He groans. "Actually, I didn’t. I'm sorry, it's just with everything going on, I kinda forgot all about them."

"No, that's fine," I say. "But you didn't tell anyone you had them, did you?"

"Nah. But if you want, I can put out a notice that anyone who lost a bag of–"

"No," I interrupt. "Do me a favor and remain tightlipped about this. Don’t tell anyone, not even your partner. This might be the reason for all of this mess."

"How?"

"I’ll come in later and tell you all about it, after I talk to Nate," I say. "I got a few more questions for him."

"Alright. I should be here all day, but I get off at six promptly. It's Bingo Night at Lou's."

"Great. Thanks." I hang up and then tap my finger on the wheel, glancing at Emma. Her eyes are glazed over and she's clearly tuned him out. Concern still lines her forehead, and even as she attempts to converse with her grandpa, her mind is far away.

She's likely thinking about everything and worrying. And I want to take all that away from her, but I might be about to make it worse. I send a silent prayer upward as I watch her.

Whoever the culprit is, please don't let it be anyone she cares about.

At the cottage, Grandpa is sitting on the porch holding what looks to be his fishing pole and a baseball bat. He's wearing only a wife beater and a pair of khaki shorts, despite the cold weather.

"Couldn't load my gun," is his response when I stare pointedly at his tools.

"Right," I say.

"Grandpa you shouldn't be out here," Emma cautions. "It's cold and it looks like it's going to storm."

She's right. In the few minutes of driving the sky has darkened significantly, and the clouds are moving closer together.

"A little rain never hurt nobody, Emma Jane," her grandfather responds.

We hear a pattering on the wood, and the dog appears at the doorway. He freezes as he eyes me and barks a few times. After getting no response, he saunters out to sniff my shoes. Then he runs right to Emma, his tail wagging madly as he rests his front paws on her knees.

"Hi, boy." Emma squats and he rolls over so she can rub his belly.

"The voice you heard," I ask her grandfather. "Was it male or female?"

Grandpa rubs his chin. "Now that I think about it, it sounded like a guy to me."

That doesn't mean much though. If either Rick or Poppy were behind this, I doubt they would do their own dirty work.

I need more information to know for sure, but I'm distracted by Remy yipping one more time in my direction, while still being petted by Emma.

When I look at him, he hangs his head to one side, allowing his tongue to fall out.

Suddenly, it hits me.

"You said you only woke up when you heard a sound upstairs. Right?"

Grandpa nods. "Right."

---