Tessa’s mother didn’t react at first. Then she lowered the knife. Logan moved forward. “Let me help you with that.” He gently but firmly plucked the knife from her fingers.
Relief swept over Tessa. Her knees wobbled, and her eyes filled with tears. She mouthed “Thank you” to Logan.
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Anytime.” He handed Tessa the knife. Then he removed his zip-up hoodie and wrapped it around her mother’s shoulders. “Let’s get you inside, ma’am.”
Her mom obeyed. Tessa followed. The breeze picked up, sweeping leaves across the grass, and she was suddenly aware that the night air was cold. She wore short sleeves and thin pajamas. Her feet were bare. Her mother, who refused to wear anything to bed other than a thin nightgown, must have been freezing.
She hurried into the house behind her mom and Logan.
Another set of headlights approached the house. Henry stepped out of his vehicle, medical bag in hand.
“I called him,” Logan said. “Thought you might need him.”
“Thanks.” Now that her adrenaline rush had faded, Tessa was bone tired.
Logan steered her mother into a kitchen chair. Henry set his bag on the table, pulled up a chair, and began to look her over. He cleaned a cut on her foot. Her mom sat still, her eyes unfocused. She didn’t seem to be fully aware of her surroundings.
“What’s wrong with her?” Tessa asked, easing into a chair.
“She’s exhausted,” Henry said. “Her sleep has been disturbed?”
Tessa nodded.
“I’m going to give her something to ease her anxiety and help her rest.” Henry pressed a pill into her mom’s hand. Her mom swallowed it without question or protest.
Tessa walked her mother into her bedroom. She washed her dirty feet and tucked her into bed. Her mom was oddly compliant and fell asleep immediately.
“I’d like to try a medication for her paranoia and confusion,” Henry said. “I know because your mom is relatively young, you wanted to try medication to treat or slow her dementia. We’ve tried several now. None have worked. It’s time to treat her symptoms. If we can calm her down, then you can keep her home longer, and maybe you can all have a better quality of life.”
Tessa nodded. “You’re right.”
“Get some rest. Call me if you need me. I’m leaving a few pills. Give her one before dinner tomorrow night. We’ll see if we can stave off some of the anxiety she gets at sundown. If this works, I’ll write you a prescription. If not, we’ll try something else. I hate to see her like this.” Henry handed Tessa a vial of pills, closed his bag, and left.
Logan wrapped an arm around Tessa’s shoulders. “You need sleep too.”
“It’s hard to give up on her.”
“You’ve done everything you can.”
Tessa nodded. She let Logan steer her to her bedroom. She lifted the covers. “Wanna stay?”
He leaned over and kissed her. “I’ll nap on the couch. I’m a light sleeper. I’ll listen for your mother so you can sleep for a couple of hours.”
But it was not meant to be. Her phone buzzed before she could close her eyes. She read the screen. “It’s Sam.”
Sam was the third member of Tessa and Cate’s childhood trio. As a teenager, Sam had been abducted and held in captivity for more than two decades. Five months ago, Tessa and Cate had helped find and free her.
Tessa could not ignore a middle-of-the-night call from Sam. She answered the phone. “What’s wrong, Sam?”
Sam said, “Someone broke in.”
“I’ll be right there.” Tessa jumped out of bed, shed her pajama bottoms, and stepped into clean uniform pants.
Logan was already on his phone. “I’m calling my grandmother to come over.”
“But it’s only four thirty in the morning.” Tessa shoved her hair back into a ponytail and reached for a shirt. She was stretched in more directions than one person could possibly handle. How could she care for her mother, her sister, a traumatized friend, and a whole freaking town?
“She won’t mind,” Logan said. “She’s probably up already anyway. Just breathe.”
Tessa tried, but she felt like she was suffocating.
4
Logan followed Tessa’s patrol SUV into town. Samantha Bishop lived with her mother, Marsha, in a small house in North Sound, within walking distance of the shops. Marsha had recently purchased the town’s small jewelry shop, Shiny Objects. Sam’s mother had made jewelry for many years, but shop ownership was a new venture. Marsha kept jewelry supplies at home. Had someone broken in to steal them?
Tessa rushed to the front door. Sam opened it. Logan hung back while the ladies hugged.
Sam stepped back to let them inside. She wore red flannel pajamas adorned with penguins. They walked into a bright kitchen. Never sure how Sam was coping with more than twenty years of rape and captivity, Logan gave her plenty of space.
All the lights were blazing. Sam’s mother, Marsha, stood in the center of the small room, one hand pressed to the base of her throat. She wore a pale-blue ankle-length robe. Jewelry-making supplies were strewed across the kitchen table.
Tessa scanned the space, looking for Sam’s eight-year-old son. “Where’s Mickey?”
Sam nodded toward the hallway. “He didn’t wake. These days, he plays hard and sleeps hard.” Sam’s mouth softened as she talked about her son.
“What happened?” Tessa asked.
“We were sleeping. I heard a noise.” Sam shuddered. “I came into the kitchen and saw a man in the kitchen. As soon as he saw me, he ran out the back door.”
Anyone would have found that terrifying, but with Sam’s history, it was amazing she was functioning.
“That’s a good sign,” said Logan. “He didn’t want a confrontation.”
“I hadn’t thought of it like that.” Sam’s brows drew into a deep V.
“Can you describe him?” Tessa asked.
“Not really.” Sam shook her head. “It was dark.”
Tessa and Logan crossed the room. A sliding glass door led to a tiny backyard.
“He lifted the slider off its tracks,” Tessa said.
Sam shuddered. “Is that all it takes to break in?”
“Unfortunately, yes, if you don’t have additional locks.” Tessa nodded.
Logan eyed the door. “I’ll install an additional lock for you today. This house is small. I can also alarm your door and windows and install some cameras.”
“Thank you,” Marsha said. “I appreciate your help. We should have put in an alarm already, but money is tight right now. Buying the shop stretched us, but we wanted to invest in ourselves. We’d spent so many years at a standstill it felt important that we take a big step forward.”
Sam looked away. Marsha might have been ready to move forward, but was Sam? More than two decades of captivity had left a mark. In the months since she’d been rescued, Sam hadn’t left the island.
“I’ll dust the glass for fingerprints.” Tessa went out the front door and returned in a few minutes with her kit.
Logan turned to Sam. “Where was he standing when you saw him?”