“SO,” SIMON SAID. “LOOKS like you and Derek are getting along again. What happened? Did he give you the look?”
“Look?”
“You know. The one that makes him look like a whipped puppy, and makes you feel like a jerk for doing the whipping.”
“Ah, that one. So it works on you, too?”
He snorted. “It even works on Dad. We give in, we tell him it’s okay, and the next thing you know, he’s chewing up slippers again.”
I laughed.
Simon slumped into a chair. “The problem is, you know he’s trying to do the right thing. So what if he doesn’t think about himself enough? Would we rather he was a self-centered “jerk?” He shook his head, then said, “You wanted to talk?”
“There’s something I need to suggest, but…Derek’s not going to like it.”
“Spill.”
I told him what I had in mind. When I finished, he swore.
“Bad idea?” I said.
“No, good idea. But you’re right—he’ll never go for it. If you even suggest it, he’ll think it’s a test and either get mad or do it to humor you, which won’t help, because if he’s just humoring us, he won’t stay there.”
“Stay where?” a voice asked.
We looked over as Tori walked in.
“I thought I heard Derek calling me,” she said. “What’s up?”
I told her my idea.
“We should have done that the minute we knew they were gunning for him,” she said. “Why would he complain? It’s not like you’re telling him to get lost—just hide out for a few hours, make them think he’s gone.” She sat on the sofa. “You’ve got my vote, not that it counts for anything.”
“It does,” I said. “You’re part of this. We need to start acting like you are.”
I looked at Simon.
He shrugged. “I guess so.”
“Gosh, I’ve never felt so wanted,” Tori said.
“I trust you not to stab me in the back for fun,” he said. “But if it’s in your best interests? I’m not turning around. Just in case.”
“So I’ve gone from evil incarnate to ordinary bitch. I can live with that.” She stretched out her legs. “So who’s telling Derek?”
“No one,” I said. “That’s the problem. He won’t do it and even by suggesting—”
“You want me to lie low?” The deep rumble from the doorway had us all look up. Derek stepped in. “Pretend I took off?” He turned to Simon. “Is that what you want?”
“It is,” Simon said.
“Chloe?”
“It’s not about what we want,” I said. “Who was the one Andrew knocked out last night? Who’s the one they’re all watching? They want you gone, Derek, and I honestly don’t think they’ll make a move until you are.”
He met my gaze, searching it, like he was looking for something there. He must have seen it, because he nodded. “Okay. You’re right. We need them to relax, and they won’t do that with me around.”
Not exactly the rationale I hoped for, but I took it.
We decided the best place for Derek was the attic. There were windows that Derek could jump out of easily, so it was safer than the basement. Dirtier, but safer.
While Simon helped Derek gather food and blankets, I went outside and called Liz.
“I need to know if you can get in the attic,” I said.
“I’m one step ahead of you. I can get on the roof, in the attic, and kind of in the basement, but not so well.”
I told her about our plans for Derek.
“You want me to keep him company?” She grinned. “We can play tic-tac-toe in the dust.” She saw my expression and stopped smiling. “That’s not what you need, is it?”
“I’m worried about him. He’s not very good at looking after himself.”
“And he could use a poltergeist bodyguard?”
I nodded. “Take care of him for me. Please.”
“I will.”
Next we released Andrew. We told him that Derek had decided it was safer for everyone if he left. We’d tried to stop him, but he’d snuck off into the woods, where he was presumably going to hide until he found a way to get off the property.
We didn’t tell Andrew that we planned to find a way off the property, too. As far as he knew, we were going along with his plans.
Margaret showed up while we were having breakfast, and we discovered another advantage to Derek’s disappearance—it gave us an excuse for being anxious and quiet.
As we were finishing, the doorbell rang. All three of us jumped, Simon dropping his spoon into the bowl with a clatter.
“I guess Derek wouldn’t be ringing the bell, huh?” I said.
“He might.” Simon pushed back his chair. “I’ll answer.”
I knew what he was thinking—hoping. That it was his dad. The chances of Mr. Bae ringing a bell at a house where his sons might be captives seemed pretty remote, but I followed, if only as an excuse to get away from Andrew and Margaret.
I got to the door as Simon was swinging it open. There stood Gwen.
“Hey, guys,” she said with a strained smile. She held up a box. “No donuts this time—I learned my lesson—but I brought some amazing muffins. You can eat those, right?”
“Uh, sure,” Simon said.
Simon backed up to let her in. He shot a glance at me, a clear What’s she doing here?
“Andrew’s b-been trying to get in touch with you,” I said.
“I know. Work. You know how it is.” A forced laugh. “No, I guess you don’t, lucky kids. Enjoy it while you can because the truth is”—she leaned over and whispered—“grown-up life sucks. But I’m here now and ready for action. Andrew’s message said we’re leaving for Buffalo today.”
I nodded.
“Great. I’m just in time, then. Come on in and let’s chow down on these muffins. They are amazing.”
When we showed Gwen into the kitchen, I tried to gauge Andrew’s and Margaret’s reaction. Both seemed surprised. For Andrew, it was pleasant surprise. For Margaret, not so much. She didn’t seem angry, just annoyed at the flighty girl zipping in and out at whim.
They adjourned to the living room. The three of us made excuses and took off.
“She’s lying,” Tori said. “I don’t care how ditzy she is, no one ignores a half dozen urgent calls, then sails in with blueberry muffins.”
“Russell sent her to spy,” Simon said. “He’s up to something.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Whatever their scheme, we’ll be gone soon enough. Just keep an eye on her until then. I’m going to send Liz out looking for escape routes.”