Live to Tell (Live to Tell #1)(111)
“How did it get open?”
“Maybe Renny sleepwalked and did it herself.”
Elsa tilts her head. Clearly, she hadn’t thought of that.
Brett hadn’t either, until it popped out, but who knows? Maybe it’s true. And if it’s not, there are countless other explanations for the open window. Explanations that don’t involve a prowler creeping around their daughter’s bedroom.
Brett presses on. “Elsa, think about it. The adoption isn’t even finalized. You don’t want to risk it, do you? A police report is going to go on the records.”
Something else she hadn’t thought of.
Brett glimpses a spark of uncertainty in her dark eyes. He’s winning her over. Good. And yet, what if…?
No, he tells himself firmly. Just like you told Elsa—and Renny, too—there’s nothing to worry about. Nothing at all.
The car is parked on a quiet waterside street several blocks from the Cavalon home—a perfect spot, near the marina. Fishermen, rising in the wee hours to pursue the day’s catch, often leave their cars here.
It would have probably been a good idea to have some poles and a tackle box in the back seat, just in case someone came along.
Oh, well. Next time.
The engine turns over with a quiet rumble and the tires make a faint crunching sound on the gravelly road.
Mission accomplished.
Almost.
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse…
What the heck is the rest of it?
Not even a mouse…
Not even a mouse…
Oh, the next line is, The children are nestled all snug in their beds…
Ha. Isn’t that fitting? Renny Cavalon certainly was nestled all snug in her bed just a short time ago.
Then she opened her eyes, took one look, and screamed.
No wonder.
That hideous rubber mask—now tucked safely into the glove compartment—would scare anyone to death, looming over them in the dead of night.
Night…
Night…
’Twas the Night Before Christmas…
That’s it!
It wasn’t a nursery rhyme after all; it was a storybook.
Is Elsa planning to read it to Renny when the holidays roll around?
Ha. Come December, Renny will be long gone.
Just like Jeremy.