Glancing at Sarah, Adne said, “I should take her back. Will you be okay?”
“Sarah!” A man’s voice sounded farther down the hall. “Sarah!”
Adne watched Sarah stiffen. Her mouth drew into a thin line of resolve as a man with golden brown hair pushed past the wayward tourist and into the bedroom. Tristan threw an apologetic glance at Adne, and took Sarah by the shoulders.
“I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t come here alone,” Tristan said in a low voice. “It isn’t good for you. Anika and I both think—”
Sarah pushed Tristan’s hands away. “I’m tired of you and Anika telling me what to do, Tristan.”
“He’s my son too,” Tristan told her.
“Then act like you care,” Sarah shot back. “Believe what I’ve told you instead of looking at me like I’m insane. Help me instead of standing in my way.”
Adne winced at Sarah’s lashing words and then the lines of grief that tightened around Tristan’s eyes.
Tristan turned to Adne. “Could you please excuse us?”
Adne nodded, relieved to get out of the room and away from that horrible scene. She grabbed the girl from the tour group by the elbow and towed her down the hall.
“What was wrong with that woman?” the girl asked.
Ignoring her question, Adne said, “Let’s just get you back to the tour, okay?”
“I was just curious.” The girl pouted. “All that history in the tour was boring. I prefer the drama of the present. It seemed like a good story was developing back there.”
“That’s not a story,” Adne replied. “That was a private conversation that you had no business overhearing.”
“You don’t have to get in a snit about it,” the girl said.
Adne wondered if she had the authority to kick this girl off the tour and send her on her way to wherever she’d come from. But that probably wouldn’t go over very well with Sabine. So Adne settled for reprimanding the vagrant.
“You shouldn’t wander away from the group,” Adne told the girl. “It’s not safe.”
“So the stories about this place are true?” The girl gave a nervous laugh. “Ghosts in the closets and monsters under the stairs?”
“Something like that,” Adne muttered. She heard Sabine’s voice in one of the rooms ahead and quickened her pace.
Adne had already seen a ghost and she didn’t want to think about it. As for the monsters, they were supposed to be gone, but Adne was beginning to fear they’d only been slumbering.
LOGAN KNEW HE must have felt elation at some point in the not too distant past, but it seemed like that kind of joy had eluded him for years. The giddiness that suffused his being now was intoxicating. After three days in Colorado, Chase and Audrey had returned with news. Good news. At last.
Chase popped the cork and Audrey held out her glass. Champagne foamed up and spilled over the rim.
“Be careful!” Audrey shook droplets from her fingers.
“One does not take care when one celebrates with abandon,” Chase replied, filling his glass, then Logan’s.
“That’s easy for you to say,” Audrey replied. “You’re not wearing silk.”
“I had my doubts about this plan of yours,” Logan told them, raising his glass in a toast. “But I have to admit, you were brilliant.”
Logan didn’t add that he’d spent the seventy-two hours of the twins’ absence second-guessing the wisdom of their trip to Rowan Estate. He hadn’t slept for the past two nights, his mind too full of all the ways that the excursion into hostile territory could go horribly wrong. In all of Logan’s imagined worst-case scenarios he ended up dead with self-righteous Searchers gloating over his corpse.
Audrey flashed her perfectly white teeth at him. “Of course I was.” She rewarded herself with a sip of champagne.
“You mean we,” Chase added. “We were brilliant.”
After sticking her tongue out at her brother, Audrey said, “I don’t mean we. I’m the one who found her.”
“And I’m the one who came up with the plan in the first place,” Chase replied.
“Let’s just all agree that we make a good team,” Logan cut in, hoping to avoid a round of bickering between brother and sister.
“Go team.” Chase lifted his glass. “Not to compromise our ability to savor this moment, but do we have a plan for what happens next?”
“I was already brilliant,” Audrey said. “My work is done.”
“Good to know we can count on you to see the whole thing through, Audrey.” Logan smirked. “But to answer Chase’s question, I have an idea. I wouldn’t call it a plan . . . yet. But as far as ideas go, it’s not a bad one.”
“Care to fill us in?” Chase settled back into the leather club chair, throwing one leg over its arm.
“What Audrey has done is identify the weak link in the Searchers’ armor,” Logan answered. “We have to exploit it.”
“Agreed.” Chase sipped his champagne. “And how can we do that?”
“Sarah Doran feels betrayed.” Logan leaned forward, setting his glass down. “She needs to believe someone out there is on her side.”
Audrey laughed. “Do you really think she’ll take up with three Keeper orphans? If I’m remembering correctly, the man . . . or creature . . . or whatever Bosque is that you’re trying to bring back kidnapped her child and imprisoned her in a painting for fifteen years.”
“It’s not as if we’re going to bring her in on our plan.” Logan shot an irritated glance at Audrey. “All we have to do is convince her that we’re the key to bringing her son back.”
“Is that something we can do?” Chase asked. “Bringing Shay back.”
“I have no idea,” Logan said. “I’m guessing not, but again—that’s not something Sarah has to know.”
“Exploiting that woman’s grief isn’t a bad strategy,” Audrey added, nodding. “From the way she was acting at the estate, I’d guess that suggesting the possibility of getting her son back will be too tempting to resist. Even if some part of her doesn’t believe us, I think she’s well past the point of reason. Dangle the right carrot and she’ll bring you the box.”