Daniel shook his head. “I’m pretty sure he was empty-handed. Why?”
“Because they’re gone.…” Confusion muddled my brain. I could have sworn this is where I’d hidden the rifles, but maybe I’d just imagined that part of last night. The entire experience had been completely unreal. Maybe I’d left them in the forest after all? I shook my head. I know I wouldn’t have just left them there. “I think I might be losing my mind. I swear they were right there. I don’t know how this is possible.”
“What?” Daniel’s eyebrows arched over his deep brown eyes. He’d been so delirious, he wouldn’t have remembered my hiding them.
“You’re looking for this, aren’t you?” asked a voice from behind us.
Daniel and I reeled around to find someone standing there, with a high-powered rifle in her hand.
ABOUT TEN SECONDS LATER
“Charity!” I jumped up. “What the heck are you doing?”
The sight of my almost thirteen-year-old sister holding a gun nearly gave me a heart attack. She had it half raised in her hands, like she wasn’t quite strong enough for its weight.
“Whoa, there, Char. Be careful.” Daniel reached out toward the gun. “Give it to me.”
“No,” she said, taking a step back. “Not until you answer my questions.”
“Don’t be a brat, Charity,” I said in my bossiest older-sister voice possible. “Put that thing down. It’s loaded.”
Charity lowered one of her hands and shoved it into her pocket. She pulled something out and held it in her hand, nearly dropping the heavy gun at the same time. “You mean with more of these?” The bullet in her hand was shiny and silver. Not like the brassy ones a rifle would normally take. “These are silver bullets, aren’t they?” She cradled the gun in both of her arms.
“Yes, and they’re dangerous. Now put the gun down. It isn’t a toy.”
“I know,” she said. “And I know how to use a gun just as well as you do, Grace. Grandpa Kramer taught me how to shoot, too, you know.”
She was right. I did know. Grandpa Kramer had always fancied himself a bit of a cowboy. He used to invite us on monthlong trips to his summer cabin, where he’d teach us things like shooting and fishing. I wasn’t a fan of guns, but I could shoot a tin can off a tree stump from thirty yards away. Charity had been a lot younger during those lessons, but it was obvious she’d remembered a few things—like how to load and unload bullets.
“Yeah, and Grandpa Kramer would flip out if he saw you holding that thing. You should know better. Somebody could get hurt.” My nostrils flared. “Give. It. To. Me. Now.”
“Or what? You’ll tell Aunt Carol? Go ahead, because then you’ll have to explain to her why you have them, and I want to know. I deserve it. You should be thanking me for finding them before the deputy did. You know how far back under the porch I had to hide to keep him from seeing me? I still feel like I have spiders crawling all over my back.” She shivered dramatically, making me flinch. I really wished she’d put that gun down.
“Thank you,” I said, dropping the bossy tone. “But you can give it back to me now.” I held out my hand, beckoning her to hand the rifle over. Why had she even gone looking for it in the first place?
Charity shook her head. Her arms tightened around the gun. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to end up blowing someone’s face off. “I knew you were lying,” she said, answering the question I’d wanted to ask out loud. “Your neck was as red as the devil. I just couldn’t figure out what you were lying about. I figured if you had been out in the forest, you would have gone over the fence, so I decided to take a look around in the backyard. I didn’t actually expect to find out you were hiding guns.” She tapped her finger against the gun barrel. “But now I want to know why. I want the truth. And I’m not giving this gun back until you answer.”