Little White Lies

but to pass would be a death sentence.

Wyatt honked and pulled out his cell.

Stuart picked up in one ring.

“There’s a mile left. Winter will be here before we get up there.”

“You done ranting and raving back there? ’Cause I told you where we’re going, and I will not be the reason you pick a fight with big and bigger.”

The nicknames fit James and Cael, though he and Stuart had gotten closer, if not quite as tall. “No, and I won’t until I get some real answers, so move it!” He pressed the ‘off’ button. “Damn phone! I can’t slam it, or it’ll break!” He yelled through the window as his fingers gripped the wheel tighter.

As they wound their way to the house, good memories lay in rest as if buried under the rubble of an earthquake. The house glistened under the sunlight and reflected blue sky. He knew why they’d chosen the spot at the top-they could see everywhere-as free and open as a bird in flight and yet contained, with no neighbors in sight.

He and Mira, or rather Charley, shared so much in one night’s kiss and yet so little.

The wheels crunched gravel as they made their way from road to driveway. Wyatt’s heartbeat sped up in anticipation. What would she say to him? How would she react? She’d be pissed. She’d be shocked. Big and Bigger would probably come to her rescue as they always seemed to do, or at least James would.

Wyatt took a deep breath and steeled himself as he stepped from within his car onto the driveway. Stuart walked back to him.

“Can you handle this, man?” Stuart asked.

“You’re asking your future potential boss if he can handle a situation?”

Stuart shook his head. “If that’s how you’re gonna play it, I can get hired on elsewhere.” He stuffed his hands in his pockets.

Maybe that would be a better idea. “I already put in the departmental paperwork. It’s me or some assignment in Alaska.” Wyatt slammed his car door, and together they finished the forty-foot walk to the porch.

Stuart hesitated, one finger above the bell. “Ready? ’Cause they are only expecting me.”

“I’m ready.”

The quiet ding-dong hadn’t changed in sixteen years.

James appeared within the frame, stiffened.

“I know what you’re thinking, James,” Stuart said. “But all this mystery crap has got to stop.”

“It’s your funeral,” James said. He turned to Wyatt. “And yours, too, if you mess with her.”

Stuart stepped through as if he’d been a part of their lives for years-right over the threshold and into the same entry in which Wyatt had found himself before.

James shifted, letting Wyatt by, but turned to him before he could pass, extending a hand outward. “Thank you for coming.”

Wyatt didn’t have time to think of a witty response. “You’re welcome.” He shook James’s hand. That was odd.

James led the way through the entrance where new artwork plastered the walls. Wyatt recognized the signature in the corner of each one. Charley. It dawned on him he had a piece of her work. With one hand, he slapped his forehead.

Stuart stopped and turned. “What?”

Wyatt pointed to the name. “Charley.”

“Yeah. So?”

“She gave me one of her pieces the night she left-on my birthday. I have it at my house.”

Stuart shrugged. “Probably worth something if you want to sell it.”

No way. It’s the only thing that’s real these days. Wyatt shook his head.

Warm and inviting, the open loft with beams crisscrossed the ceiling and gave it a contemporary look but still a very homey feel-the same as it had been.

Lily and Cael sat together on the couch. A pixie-like woman lay with her head in Lily’s lap, bundled in a blanket, her eyes closed, breathing at a calm pace.

Charley had her back to them as Stuart sauntered into the kitchen.

From the back, if he let his mind clear, he could see his Mira in her: the shape of her hips, the length of her legs and the curls-though the color in no way matched. He tried to remember as Charley turned and caught him in mid- stare.

“Hello, Mira.” He held his expression as flat and unemotional as he could.

She gasped but recovered, shot a glance toward Stuart, James, Cael, and Lily before she turned back to him. “I didn’t expect you, Wyatt.”

“I brought him.” Stuart returned from the kitchen, an apple in hand. “Gonna be my boss,” he said between bites.

Charley drew in a deep breath and let it go, but the hint of a smile threw Wyatt.

What exactly is Stuart’s relationship with them?

***

Charley wanted to run up to Wyatt, grab him by the edges of his jacket and hold him so tight he’d never leave. Instead, she banked a laugh at Stuart, who clearly didn’t understand the nature of a secret-a time limit did not apply.

She knew Wyatt would notice the nonchalance of Stuart’s entry. It didn’t matter, though-their meeting didn’t revolve around either of them. They’d come together to find Chase.

Five days had passed since he’d disappeared. Sophie’s return confused the situation, leaving Charley and the detectives with no new information and even more questions.

“Would you like a chair?” She motioned to the spots around the room.

Wyatt shook his head as Stuart plopped onto the loveseat.

Sophie took up most of the couch, so Charley moved to the end and sat on the arm.

“Thank you for coming, Stuart, and you, too, Wyatt.” Charley nodded at each in turn. “Would you like a debrief?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” Wyatt said as Stuart’s focus returned to his apple.

Charley went through the details as she knew them.

“Have the police tapped your phone?” Wyatt asked.

She tilted her head toward him. “Yes, but it hasn’t been useful. They didn’t call, and with Sophie back, I can’t imagine they will. There was no ransom request. Nothing.”

“But we do have Sophie’s note.” James handed the paper Charley found to Wyatt.

He studied it a moment. “Has she given you any context for it?”

“No.” Charley shook her head. “None. She doesn’t remember it. What do we do?” Charley said with a hitch in her voice.

Wyatt’s small head shake did not encourage her. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but with three guys in the FBI, she’d hoped they’d unlock a door behind which she’d find Chase. Fantastical, sure, but what mother wouldn’t think through all possibilities, ethereal or otherwise?

“I talked with Detective Bland before we started over. Apparently you guys-” Wyatt pointed to Charley and her group. “You have a lot of people on your side. My mother even.”

Over the years, they’d led Katherine, Wyatt’s Mom, to believe Charley left the house to her granddaughter, named after her. They’d all been too taken in by her to sever their ties.

“Anyway,” Wyatt continued. “They’ve got it all laid out, multiple officers tracking leads and sources-”

“We could assist more.” Cael sat upright. “We have our own resources. We’ve scoured every connection we could come up with on our own already. We need to be prepared for every possibility.”

“Yes, but since you’ve got a vested interest in this, they want you to remain outside the bounds of the investigation.” Wyatt’s gaze tracked to Stuart.

“We need to do something.” Lily spoke through a small hitch in her own breath.