want mine with grape jelly,” Brit added.
Adam made a face. “’Cause it’s purple.”
Brit stuck out her tongue again.
“You’re stupid,” Adam told her.
“You’re stupider.”
Callie stopped in the process of opening the jar. The kids were acting so out of character and Callie suspected it had something to do with Nigel’s abuse. They’d gotten along well until he’d come into their lives; now they were bickering and being rude. It had to stop.
“We have to talk. Adam, you will not call your sister stupid again. And Brit, you will stop sticking out your tongue.”
“What if I forget?” Brit asked.
“Then you say I’m sorry.”
“To him.” She jabbed a thumb toward Adam. “No wa…” Her voice fluttered away when she saw the look on Callie’s face. “Okay, but I think you need to punish him—make him sleep in the attic or something.”
“No, Callie,” Mary Beth cried. “Don’t make Adam sleep in the attic.”
The thought of any of them being punished again upset Mary Beth. “No one is sleeping in the attic.” Callie rubbed Mary Beth’s arm to comfort her. “Let’s eat dinner, then we’ll take a bath and go to bed. We’re all tired.”
They ate their sandwiches in silence and Callie cut apples and oranges into slices. After eating, Callie gathered the remains and put them in a plastic bag. She noticed Mary Beth’s eyelids drooping. It was time for bed.
Brit and Mary Beth took a bath first in the antique tub with claw feet. It was almost identical to the one upstairs, except it was clean thanks to Ethel Mae. For something so old, it was in very good shape. The toilet had a pull chain and it worked. Being in the house was like taking a step back in time.
She helped the girls into their pajamas while Adam took his bath. Snug in their bags, Callie hurriedly took a bath and slipped into pajama bottoms and a T-shirt. She left the bathroom light on so the house wouldn’t be in total darkness.
Soon they were all comfy. Or so Callie thought. “Callie,” Mary Beth whispered.
“What, sweetie?”
“What if I wet the bed?”
“Then I’ll clean it up and we’ll go back to sleep.”
“But my sleeping bag’ll be wet.”
“Mary Beth, sweetie. Don’t worry about it. I’ll wash the bag tomorrow and you can slide in with me.”
“’Kay.” Mary Beth turned onto her side, Miss Winnie in her arms. “Night, Fred. Don’t be afraid. Callie’s here.”
They went through this every night. Mary Beth just needed reassurance. Before Glynis’s death, she’d never wet the bed or been afraid. Once their lives settled down, the bed-wetting would stop. Since they’d been on the run, Mary Beth had only wet the bed once—their first night in a motel. Callie was hoping that soon she wouldn’t be wetting the bed at all and she wouldn’t be so afraid.
Callie gazed into the semidarkness, listening to the occasional sound of a car and the creaks and noises of the old house. They were here. They were safe—for now. Just the thought of that relaxed her.
“I can’t sleep,” Brit complained.
“Me, neither,” Mary Beth chimed in. “Tell us a story.”
“Not the princess one again or I’ll puke.” Adam made his wishes known.
“There’s a prince for every princess, right, Callie?”
“Right,” she answered Brit’s question, but she wasn’t sure. She’d met a couple of horned toads in her day. And kissing didn’t help.
“Daddy was Mommy’s prince,” Mary Beth said.
“Yes, he was,” Callie agreed. There wasn’t a better man than John Lambert.
“And Nigel’s a frog.” Brit giggled. “You know what? If he comes here maybe we can get June Bug to eat him.”
“Maybe he’ll eat you.” Adam joined the conversation.
“Callie, he’s being mean again.” Brit wanted to make sure she knew that.
“Everyone go to sleep.”
Silence for a moment, then Mary Beth’s tiny voice asked, “Can Mommy see us?”
Callie swallowed. “Yes, she can.”
“Daddy, too?”
“Yes, Daddy, too.”
“Then that bad sheriff won’t arrest us ’cause they’ll take care of us.”
How Callie wished that were true. And that Glynis had never met Nigel or that John hadn’t died. Now she had to deal with the consequences.
Once she heard Brit and Mary Beth’s steady breathing, she slipped from her bag. Adam’s recent behavior was unacceptable and they had to discuss it. Lying on his back, he stared at the ceiling. She went down on her knees beside him.
“Can’t sleep?”
“No.”
“Why are you being so mean to your sister?”
He turned on his side to face her. “Because she’s being silly and she’s going to get us caught. Then they’ll take us back to Nigel and put you in jail. I can’t take that, Callie. I can’t. And if you’re in jail, I’ll just die. I’m so scared.”
“Oh, Adam.” She gathered him in her arms, her heart breaking. “Please stop worrying so much. I’ll take care of us. I promise.”
“But the sheriff keeps coming here.”
“He’s just being nice.” As she said the words, she knew they were true. Wade Montgomery was a nice man. “Listen to me. Worrying is my department and I will handle the sheriff. I want you to turn back into the sweet little boy you’ve always been. Okay?”
“Okay.” He rubbed his face against her.
“Now go to sleep.”
Callie walked out onto the front porch and sat in one of the rockers, her heart heavy. It was a beautiful moonlit night with a million stars twinkling through the live oaks. She drew her knees up and wrapped her arms around her legs, listening to the gentle serenade of the crickets. Everything was quiet. Peaceful. Except her thoughts.
How could her mother do this to them? she asked herself again. Put them in the position of fleeing from the law. So much anger churned inside her at the turmoil Adam was going through, and the grief and fear Mary Beth and Brit were experiencing. She tried not to be angry at Glynis, but she was. She’d been taken in by a con artist. Nigel had lavished her with attention and praise, something she’d needed after John’s death. Still, it didn’t give her the right to bring that awful man into their lives.
Glynis could be impulsive and selfish at times, but she’d never done anything like this. She and John had had a good marriage, a good life, so how could she fall for Nigel? Callie didn’t understand that and every time she’d tried to talk to her mother, Glynis would say they’d talk later. But later never came. Instead, a nightmare had followed and she was still…
Her thoughts skidded to an abrupt stop as a car pulled up to the curb. Wade. Again. He unfolded his tall frame from the vehicle and started up the walk. It was late—too late for a friendly visit. What was he doing here? There could only be one reason. He knew her identity and had come to arrest her.
Her first reaction was to run inside, lock the front door and get the kids out the back. But her car was in front.
She was trapped.
And