Little White Lies

Sophie tucked Chase in for the night. He’d curled up under the warm blankets like a little mouse. Within seconds, his snores could have drowned out a buzz saw.

“He said nine or ten, Charley.” Lily offered a milkshake, pie, and other goodies in a clear attempt to draw Charley’s attention away from the time.

Since Chase’s return, Lily had been bitten by the sweets bug; pastries, pies, cakes, muffins and who knew what lined shelves and countertops in the kitchen.

“You should start selling these, Lil.” Charley munched on a chocolate covered strawberry.

Thank goodness her kind didn’t have to watch their weight. She’d miss that particular piece of her skill. Cellulite? Gone. An inch to pinch? Sucked in. Hopefully Wyatt wouldn’t mind if she went gray and wrinkly. At least they’d do it together.

Charley moved to the dining table, where the plans still lay. She tried to distract herself with them-a double-, triple- and even quadruple-check on the gardens. Stuart snuck in behind her as she looked them over… again.

“You have a photographic memory. Why are you staring like you’ve never seen these before?”

Charley shook her head but otherwise ignored him until he disappeared.

At ten, her hands began to shake. She moved from the window to the door. With each sound, she’d rush and pull back the curtains to reveal the dark of the night. She paced in front of Cael’s big screen, dark with his absence. She tried Wyatt’s cell for the hundredth time and got voicemail.

Where is he? Why hasn’t he called?

“He can’t answer if he’s in a meeting, Charley.” Stuart sat with Sophie’s head in his lap. He popped a chip in his mouth and slid a hair back from Sophie’s face.

“He should.” Charley mumbled expletives under her breath.

She heard the crunch of tires and flew to the door, yanked the knob, and missed that the lock had been set. Her hand slipped off to pop her in the face. “Dammit!” She grabbed it again and twisted to unlock it.

The car rolled to a stop at the edge of the drive.

She stood in the doorway in an attempt to look nonchalant about his late arrival.

“Hi.” He approached, his cell in hand.

Charley smiled at him, watched him flick it to life. “Hey, back.” She moved to him, ran her hands up his chest. “I got worried.”

He tilted down to her. “The meeting lasted longer than I expected.”

“Why didn’t you call?”

“I couldn’t. They had us in a secured room. No phones, no cell, no texts. It was dreadful.”

Charley leaned into him as his arms wound around her. “You smell like perfume.” She scrunched her nose. The scent, while not unpleasant, held a chemical tinge to it.

“Air freshener. The cleaning crew got there before we did. You ready to go? Might as well be early.”

“Yeah, sure. Let me get Lily.”

“I don’t need anything else, so I’ll wait for ya,” he said.

Wyatt stood behind her as Charley walked back in. Her nerves at his late arrival hadn’t stopped their incessant buzz. She shook her hands in an attempt to startle herself out of her tizzy.

Stuart and Sophie hadn’t moved. He’d popped the television on, and she’d begun to doze. “We got it covered here, Chief,” Stuart said.

Charley noted the channel guide scrolled down. “Good to know your role in this is a big one.” She smirked, though at the same time knew it could be a far greater one if anyone tried to take Chase again.

“Hey, Wyatt!” Lily said as she passed the open door and entered the living room. “Didn’t I tell you he’d be here?” She gave Charley’s shoulder a quick squeeze.

“Yeah, you did. Why am I so nervous, then?”

“That’s obvious,” Lily said. “This is serious stuff. It’s not life or death, but it hits close to home.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.” Charley turned around, saluted Stuart with Lily in tow, and left to join Wyatt at the car.

“Ready?” He looked up from his phone. “Texted to tell James we’re on our way. Oh, and I got an FBI issue for stealth.”

“Right, excellent. Let’s go,” she said.

***

Wyatt steered the dark sedan down Turner Point’s hill as Charley watched her forest pass. They’d meet their group at the park, be reinforced by the police, and at midnight it would all be over. The ride home would be fraught with much less anxiety.

“Do you want to go over the plan again?” Wyatt asked, one hand on the wheel, one in Charley’s.

“I think I’m good,” she said.

“Do you know for sure everyone is in place?” He adjusted the wheel, following the subtle curve of the road.

“No, haven’t heard from James or Cael. We’re not late yet, so I expect they won’t start worrying for a bit.” She turned her attention back to the passing scenery.

“But you were nervous about my tardiness?” He smiled at her.

“How did you know?”

He chuckled. “Your hand is still shaking.”

“Ah, gotcha. I’m not usually this nervous about projects,” Charley said. “For all my time, I’ve been known for my steel spine.”

“This one’s personal,” Wyatt said.

“See?” Lily piped up. “I told you that earlier. Everyone’s in agreement that this is different because we’re all so close to it.”

“What she said.” Wyatt snickered. He offered Charley his classic smile.

“I think we’re ready, even though there are loads of unknowns.” She relaxed into the seat.

His hand caressed hers. “I think so, too.”

“You ready, Lil?” Charley asked.

“As much as I think I can be,” she said.

26

“Hey, Sophie?” Stuart asked, his hand in control of the remote. He hadn’t found anything of interest on the television.

“Hmmm…” She mumbled against him.

“You wanna watch anything?”

“No. Whatever you want.” She snuggled in deeper on his lap.

“Okay. I’m gonna leave it here for a minute or two and go double-check locks.”

“Mmm ’K,” she said.

Stuart rose, pulled the blanket up to Sophie’s shoulders, and walked the length of the living room to the foyer. They’d been gone for five minutes, and the house, without the television, let little sound through.

“Front door is locked,” he said.

He moved to the door that led to the deck. Locked. He took the stairs to the second level and double-checked Chase, who slept with his butt in the air and covers askew. Stuart smiled at the strange way kids could get comfortable-his sister had been the exact same way.

He walked back down the stairs as his cell began to vibrate with a number he didn’t recognize.

“Stuart,” he said in a sing-song voice as he walked down the stairs.

“Stuart Vance?” a voice asked.

“Yes,” he sang. “Who is speak-”

“This is Shelia McGowan, Wyatt Moreland’s Assistant. Do you know where he is?” She clipped her question in a