Best Kept Secret (Rochester Trilogy 3)

We’ve got time.

Which is good, because we’re going to need it. Paige is going to have to get over the shock of Emily’s return. All kinds of emotion are going to come with that. It’s already been a hell of a year. And Jane—

We’ll have to work things out, too. We’ve been in survival mode for a long time. It’s going to be different when it’s just real life. Day in. Day out. There’s a house to be rebuilt, or not be rebuilt. There are decisions to make about Paige. There will be more to do with Joe Causey, though at least we won’t have to see him in person. Groceries and homework and what to do about college for Jane.

“Beau,” Marjorie calls. She gestures for me to come over and join them, so I do. There’s nothing to keep watch over in the middle of the yard. “One of the men—the agents—he said they’re going to be clearing out in the next couple of minutes. We can go back inside.”

Paige won’t let go of Jane to let her stand up from the ground. I take her hand and help her up. Paige keeps her face turned away from Emily. I see pain flicker across Emily’s face, but she doesn’t say anything. Things between Emily and Paige—those will take time, too. Emily never wanted to leave her daughter. It must have torn her apart to be away from Paige for so long. It’ll all look different from Paige’s point of view.

“Maybe I should go,” Emily suggests.

“No,” Jane says. “We’ll all go inside together.”

Emily’s eyebrows go up. She looks at me for confirmation. What am I going to do, send her back to that A-frame in the woods? “Come in with us,” I agree. “We’ll have some tea.”

“Hot chocolate,” Paige says, her demand sounding almost automatic.

Jane smooths her hair back from her face. “Hot chocolate sounds good,” she says. Emily looks away. As painful as it must have been to be separated, this would also cause a new kind of pain.

The FBI agents start leaving. It’s a coordinated departure. They leave together the way they came. One of the agents hands me a slip of paper on the way out. “For the cameras,” he says. “We have to take them in to transfer the footage to our systems, but you can have them back when we’re done.”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I just nod at him.

Jane goes through the door ahead of me, Paige tucked to her side, and I follow them.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Jane Mendoza

Things are pretty awkward after all the FBI agents leave.

We go into the inn and take seats in the living room, which is all wrong. Somehow they managed to move most of the furniture, but only a few inches out of place. Marjorie moves at superhuman speed through the room to put it back together. Bit by bit, she straightens it up around us. Enough that I can sit in a big armchair with Paige. Emily and Beau sit on the couch. Kitten jumps into my lap, then out of it, then finally settles on one of the nearby couch cushions.

“I heard Paige wants hot chocolate,” Marjorie says as she bustles toward the kitchen. “Anyone else?”

“Coffee,” says Beau.

Emily doesn’t want anything, and neither do I. What I want to do is pull the covers over me in bed and sleep all the adrenaline off. It’s already fleeing from my veins. I’m tired, but still too hyped up to sleep.

Marjorie brings hot chocolate. Paige takes a few sips and hands it to me.

“Lauren says he’ll be kept in custody until the trial,” Beau mentions.

“That’s good,” answers Emily.

Paige is staring at her. After the way she chased her before, I’d thought she’d spend the rest of the evening in Emily’s arms.

“She’ll be in contact with us throughout the process,” Beau says. He looks into his coffee as he says it. I have no idea what time it is. Late enough that Paige should be in bed. But this is the first time we’ve been able to sit down together. The incident we just went through doesn’t lend itself to a peaceful bedtime routine. “If you want me to have her call you, too, I can.”

“That would be good.” Emily glances at the door, then back at Paige. I can see the indecision in her face. She thinks she should leave, but she wants to stay.

I can feel the anxiety coming off of Paige’s small body. Her own indecision is as palpable as Emily’s. I hope she doesn’t regret going to her before. I hope she doesn’t think I wanted to keep them apart. If I’m hoping it, she might be wondering, so I wrap my arms around her and lean down to speak into her ear.

“It’s okay if you want to go sit with your mom,” I say.