She smiled at the sound of Tim’s voice. He sounded so normal, businesslike but friendly with a hint of mischief. Then, just as quickly, her smile faded. Back home, it was just an ordinary day. She should be there too, doing ordinary things. Not holed up with a kidnapper. Not being blackmailed. And not, for the love of God, in the process of drugging someone’s drink. She was just as normal as Tim. How on earth had she ended up here?
Caitlin forced her eyes back to the window; the boys were now wrestling in a heap, the forgotten ball rolling toward the tree line. She willed herself to harness their levity, to force it into her voice. “No worries. I always welcome calls from my administrative assistant.”
“Not this call. This is … well, it’s a little awkward.” Tim sang out each syllable in a too-obvious attempt to set her at ease, and she braced herself. “You know that logo Finn designed for the Autumn Art in the Park event?”
She cringed. She hadn’t even thought of all the ramifications of Finn’s crime yet. She’d been hiring him for freelance projects ever since he moved to Asheville. Although he’d easily found work with a firm there, the pay wasn’t great, and he didn’t want to have to ask Violet to go back to work when she was so devoted to raising Bear.
“That came in last month—we’re good.”
“We were good. But now the boss wants revisions. Less autumny, more arty.”
“Tell me that’s not a direct quote.”
“’Fraid so. Sponsors are lining up for this one, so they’ve decided to do one every season. They want something they can adapt for Winter Art in the Park and Spring Art in the Park and have it still look branded.”
Caitlin heard the scrape of the sliding screen door in the living room behind her. Finn must have come up the stairs on the far side of the deck, opposite from where the kids were playing. Was he already feeling sleepy? Disoriented? Sick? Had he tasted the pills? Had he come to confront her?
She turned to face him. He was sliding the door shut as if everything were normal. The thermos was in his hand. She gestured to the phone and put her finger to her lips.
“Well, that is a problem. Clearly I don’t know how to reach Finn to request a logo revision at this particular moment.”
Finn froze at the sound of his name.
“Of course not. Oh my God. And I realize this is not at the top of your list of Finn problems, what with poor Violet and all…” Tim paused, and she knew he was hoping she’d launch into a Violet update. But her eyes had locked with Finn’s, rendering her silent. After a beat, Tim cleared his throat. “It’s just that … well, what do you want me to tell them?”
Caitlin kept her expression neutral even as she forced herself to turn back to the window to check on the kids. “That he’s not available, I guess. We’re going to have to get someone else.”
“I tried that, but it didn’t go over too well. Revisions are included in the project fee we paid him. There’s no budget for a new designer.”
Caitlin groaned inwardly. As if Finn hadn’t already caused her enough trouble. “Look, this sounds like a reasonable request for a rework. If I knew how to reach him, obviously I would…”
She risked a glance over her shoulder at Finn, who had the decency to look chastised. He stood awkwardly by the door, looking down at his feet, and Caitlin quickly turned back so he wouldn’t see her frustration mounting. She didn’t want to argue now, to get him fired up. She needed him complacent. She needed the drink to do its job.
How much of it had he had?
“I’ll hold them off for now,” Tim said. “Just … if you find out that he’s turned up, let me know?”
Sure, right after I explain how he’s happened to turn up at my in-laws’ cabin.
“Of course. But if he turns up, he might be…”
“In custody?” Tim’s voice was hushed with scandal.
And I might be there with him.
She swallowed. “This is embarrassing. I’ll take responsibility. I’ll find the money to hire someone else.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I hired him. It’s my responsibility.”
The room behind Caitlin was heavy with silence as she hung up. Outside, the wrestling match was turning decidedly less friendly.
Finally, Finn spoke. “I’m sorry. Did you need me to—”
Caitlin lifted a hand. “Least of our worries.”
“Right.”
Normal. She just had to act as normal as she could and let this play out. There was no turning back now. She had to be brave.
“Careful, boys,” she called out the window. “Be gentle! Play nice!”
Everyone knew that for Caitlin, calling out a worried warning was as normal as normal gets.
She heard Finn step into the kitchen. He reached around her to turn on the faucet, then rinsed out his coffee mug—the ceramic one he’d been drinking from earlier. She caught sight of a gnat in the milky dregs as they swirled down the drain. He switched off the water and plunked the mug onto the counter behind her.
“Don’t think I’m ungrateful,” he said. “I like French vanilla creamer as much as the next guy. But I also like a splash of coffee in there.”
Caitlin’s cells seized with fear. She forced herself to pivot, just in time to see Finn unscrew the top of the thermos she’d given him and pour half of his caramel-colored drink into the ceramic mug. He then topped off the thermos straight from the coffeepot and took a sip.
“Ah. Much better.”
Damn it. Damn, damn, damn. There’d been five pills in there. Now he was down to, what, two or three? With the caffeine on top of it, would that be enough to take effect? She’d have been better off adding a normal amount of creamer and having him think the coffee tasted a little off. He probably would have drunk it anyway.
She realized then that he was noticing, almost with amusement, that she was eyeing his abandoned mug. She swallowed hard.
“It won’t go to waste,” he said, and another surge of fear gripped her before she realized he was only talking about the coffee. “I’m going to need more than a couple of cups to keep up with Bear today. I haven’t been sleeping much.”
“Neither has Bear,” she said, before she could stop herself. She couldn’t ignore the echo of that I want my mommy any more than any other living breathing parent of a tiny human being could.
“You heard that.” It wasn’t a question. Finn sighed heavily. He joined her at the window and took another long swig from the thermos.
He’d left the lid off, and she was standing so close she easily could knock into it with her elbow, spilling the whole pharmaceutical mess into the drain. When she’d returned from the dock moments ago and closed the door behind her with shaking hands, she’d thought things had been irreversibly set into play. But they hadn’t. Not yet.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “It always amazes me how you moms are all programmed to wake up at every little thing.”
She narrowed her eyes, keeping them on the boys. “There’s nothing little about a kid crying for his mom that way,” she said. “It’s heartbreaking.”
No. She would not knock the mug into the sink. She was not the one who had a wrong to right. Drink up, she thought.
“I know,” Finn said quietly. Honestly. She glanced at him in surprise.
The boys were clomping up the stairs to the deck. They’d burst in any minute now.