"Did you get the water heater fixed?" her mom asked.
"The water is fine. I need to know who called you about the problem."
"I got a text on my phone from the tenant. Why?"
"What exactly did it say?"
"I don't remember exactly. Why are you asking me these questions, Hannah?"
She didn't want to get into it just yet. Her mom always complicated matters, and she needed to keep this situation as simple as she could. "Just tell me what the text said. Can you look on your phone?"
"I'm at Marty's house. Can't this wait?"
She didn't much care for Marty, who was a fifty-seven-year-old divorcee who had recently moved to Whisper Lake from Denver. He seemed like a party guy, and that was not the kind of man her mom should be with. "This can't wait," she said forcefully. "Just read me the text. It will take you two seconds. I drove all the way out here for you. It's the least you can do."
"Fine." Her mother paused, then read the text aloud. "Water heater is broken. Please send someone right away. We can't make it through the night without hot water. This is urgent."
"And what did you say?"
"After you told me you'd go, I texted her back that you were on the way."
"What's the name of the tenant?"
"I don't know. Mark did the booking."
"Did her name appear on the text?"
"Just a phone number."
"Can you forward it to me? There must have been a name on the rental agreement. Do you have that?"
"Mark has all that information. His assistant Debbie can get it for us, but I told you she's driving back from Denver."
"How would the tenant get your number? Why wouldn't she text Mark or Debbie?"
Her mother hesitated, then said, "I'm not sure. But I think my phone number is on the rental agreement as well as theirs."
"Okay, just text me what you have."
"I'm doing it right now. Can you tell me what's going on?"
"I'm not sure yet, but I'll get back to you."
"That sounds mysterious. Is everything all right? Wait a second, hold on."
She frowned as she heard her mother tell Marty to get her a sparkling water. It was good that her mom wasn't drinking alcohol, but Hannah couldn't help getting nervous when her mom put herself in situations where there was a lot of booze around.
"Okay, what were we saying?" her mom asked, coming back on the line.
"Never mind. I've got to go. I'll check in with you later."
After ending the call with her mother, she punched in the number her mother had forwarded to her. It went straight to voicemail. It was an automated message, with no indication of who the number belonged to.
She then called Debbie but got another voicemail. She left a message asking Debbie to call as soon as she got back to town. She'd no sooner finished that when Jake re-entered the cabin, concern on his face.
"Did you find your friend?" she asked when he came into the kitchen.
"No. He wasn't there, but the door was open, and the place was a pit, filled with fast-food garbage and two empty vodka bottles."
"That's not good."
His lips tightened. "No, it's not good. His car is not there. I really hope he didn't drive drunk."
She could see the strain in his eyes. While there were a lot of things she didn't like about Jake, she had to admit he'd always cared about his friends. "I'm sorry."
He gave her a nod. "Thanks. What's going on here? Did you talk to the police?"
"Not yet. I tried to get some information from Brett, but he just said they live far away and he's four years old. Thankfully, he's not scared anymore."
"The blessed ignorance of childhood."
"I also spoke to my mother. She gave me a phone number for the renter, but that person didn't answer. Our property manager and his assistant are currently unreachable."
"Did you tell your mother about Brett?"
"No. She's at a party, and she's not that helpful in a crisis. I'll call Adam now, but I'd like to do that from the bedroom. Can you watch Brett?"
"Whatever you need."
She kind of hated that Jake was being so supportive. She liked keeping a good strong wall of anger between them. It was much easier that way. But this was a situation she hadn't expected, and at the moment she needed him to distract Brett.
As Jake got down on the floor with Brett, she headed into the bedroom and took out her phone. There was a part of her that didn't want to make the call. The note had been so specific about the police putting Brett in danger, but she couldn't see how that could happen, at least not with Adam. However, as soon as she officially reported the mother's absence, Brett would probably end up in a foster home.
She'd spent two weeks in foster care a long time ago. It had been one of the worst experiences of her life. Luckily, she'd been able to go home, to be reunited with her little brother, thanks to the kindness of her aunt who had left her home on the other side of the world to come and take care of them until her mother got better. Hopefully, Brett had someone else in his life who could do that.
But what if he didn't?
She picked up the note and read it once more. Clearly, the mother was in trouble, maybe danger, since she implied Brett wouldn't be safe if the police were called. What did that mean? Had she kidnapped the child? Was he even hers?
Jake stuck his head through the doorway. "Did you call yet?"
"No. What's Brett doing?"
"Watching TV." He walked into the room, giving her a quizzical look. "Why are you stalling, Hannah?"
"I've been in Brett's shoes. It's hard to make the call knowing what will happen to him."
Jake's gaze suddenly filled with understanding. He was one of the few people in her life she'd told about that terrible time. "You're thinking about what happened to
