Wolfhunter River (Stillhouse Lake #3)(55)

“Really, Connor?” Lanny’s face twists in a mask of disdain. “Ghosts, now? For real?”

I see the spikes come out in my son. “Like you didn’t say Bloody Mary three times in the mirror at midnight.”

“I didn’t!”

“I saw you!”

“Stop!” I shout it this time, over the rising volume, and glare at each of them until they look away. “Enough! Connor, thank you. I’m not sure the ghost car is going to help, but anything’s possible. Come on, you two . . .”

“I want my laptop back,” Lanny says.

“Fine, take it,” Connor snaps. “About time you did something useful; all you’ve done is cry about your stupid girlfriend not liking you anymore!”

The color drains from my daughter’s face, then comes rushing back in. She snatches the laptop away, runs into the adjoining room, and slams the door hard enough to vibrate the floor. I turn to my son. “Did you think that was necessary?” I ask him.

“Well, it’s true. She’s been moping around for days and acting like she’s the only person in the world. I’m sick of it!”

“Do you remember how it was after she found out you talked to your dad?” I ask him. “What did she do?”

He looks away. “But that’s different—”

“No buts. What did she do when she found you’d gone to meet him?”

His voice drops. “She came after me. Helped me get away. Kept me safe.”

“She fought for you, baby. She’s your big sister, and she’ll always protect you. And you should protect her too. Even from yourself when you’re not happy with her.”

“She started it.”

“And she’s the one hurting right now. So let it go, okay?”

He nods and crosses his arms. Defensive, but I know my kid; I can see he’s thinking. And regretting. I give him a hug, a big one, and whisper “Thank you” to him.

“She’s still being stupid,” he grumbles.

“She’s entitled to be stupid sometimes. So are you, but right now I need you to support her, okay? Thank you for looking this up. It’s going to help.” I have no idea how it will help, but having more background information about Wolfhunter can’t possibly hurt. If Marlene actually saw something—something real—then it gives us something to look into. “Listen, I’m going to go see if I can talk to her. Okay?”

He nods. I look up at Sam beseechingly, and he says, “Tell you what, Connor, I could use an extra pair of hands to help me get lunch. Come on. Let’s take a ride.”

“Okay.” Connor slides off the bed and follows. Sam gives me a look as he closes the door. I mouth Thank you, and he nods. We have a lot to discuss, but his love for my kids is beyond priceless to me.

I tap on the connecting door. When there’s no answer, I go around through the door of room six and use my own key to open the door to room five.

Lanny makes a frustrated sound and throws herself on her side to put her back to me as I close the door. “Do you want to tell me about it?” I ask her.

“Why? You don’t care.”

“You know that isn’t true, honey.”

She’s sobbing quietly, and I pretend that I can’t tell. My heart does ache for her, but at the same time I know she has to get past this. Grow the armor she needs to protect herself for the next heartbreak, and the next.

When I lie down on the bed next to her, she turns and rolls into my embrace, and I stroke her hair and tell her it’ll be all right, and she cries like a wounded child. Finally, she hiccups back a sob, and I say, “Did you talk to Dahlia today?”

“No,” she says. “Not really. She just did a voice call, not Skype, like she promised, and now . . . now she won’t even text me back. Her mom—her mom doesn’t want me around anymore.” She swallows hard. “Is it because she doesn’t want Dahlia to be gay?”

“I don’t know,” I tell her. “Maybe. But also maybe it has nothing to do with you. Maybe it’s about me, and this documentary thing. If it is, I’m really, really sorry, Lanny. And I’ll do what I can to make that better, okay?”

She gulps back more tears, nods, and after a moment mumbles something I don’t catch. I ask her what it was.

She says, “How could I have ever loved my dad? What’s wrong with me? How could I do that?”

I feel the freezing anguish in my chest tighten. I know these questions. I’ve asked them of myself every day.

I hug her closer. “He was your father,” I say. “We all loved him, at least for a while. The darkness inside him belonged only to him, and we couldn’t know it was there. Nothing’s wrong with you. Okay?”

“Okay.” She gets up and goes into the bathroom. I hear her blowing her nose, washing her face, and then when she comes back, she looks steadier. “Sorry.”

“It’s all right. I’m sorry things aren’t good right now. I wish I knew how to make it better.”

She lets out a long, shaking sigh. “I need to do something and get my mind off it. Can I go with you? I don’t want to stay here.”

“No, Lanny. I’m going to the jail.”

She perks up. “You mean, to see Vera Crockett?”