5. Willow

FIVE

Willow

Waking up, I felt refreshed and well rested. Lying in bed, snuggled warm and cozy, I judged myself for how well I’d slept in a bed that wasn’t my own. I mean, the sleep was so good I didn’t want to get up, and it had nothing to do with hiding from my reality.

I’d genuinely had one of the best sleeps of my life.

The smell of bacon and coffee eventually lured me out of bed and down the stairs. Lorna was in jammies similar to mine. Granted, the ones I was wearing were hers, so it shouldn’t have surprised me. Hers were blue, her slippers fluffy with bunny ears, and it just made me adore her even more.

Noel was at the breakfast counter, shoveling in his breakfast like a man possessed. He saw me lingering and straightened himself up, waving at me to come in.

“You slept well?” he asked, and Lorna turned, realizing I was behind her.

“I slept like a log,” I admitted, walking to the counter where Lorna pointed with her spatula .

“We let you sleep a little bit longer,” she told me as she served up bacon. “Noel’s been to the house and store. All was okay, nothing further has happened. We have a town meeting to attend in about an hour.”

I’d been in the process of helping myself to some toast at Noel’s insistence, but I stared at her, my arm suspended in the air between me and the golden slices of toast. “A town meeting?”

“You’ve been targeted,” she told me, flipping a pancake perfectly. “Your home and your business.” She glanced up as the pancake settled back in the pan. “That’s not random acts of violence,” she told me slowly, like I hadn’t thought of this already. “No, you’ve been targeted and we need to discuss this.”

“At a town meeting?” I looked at Noel, whose head was down, and I didn’t know him well enough to say for sure, but if I were to guess, I’d say he wasn’t in agreement. “Did you…did you call this?” Noel glanced up and his look confirmed that would be correct.

“Willow, honey, we need to know what to do to stop this spree of violence.”

Spree of violence ? Oh damn, what had I done? Just last night, I was grateful for their help. This morning, I was wishing I’d kept my mouth shut. We didn’t need a town meeting. I was pretty sure that the ones who had broken into my home and store weren’t in the slightest bit interested in anyone else.

I couldn’t say that though, because then I’d have to let them know I knew why it had happened, and I was not bringing that kind of attention to myself or shifters.

I needed to get hold of Lily. Lorna kept filling my plate with her delicious home-cooked food, and I soon began to appreciate the speed that Noel ate at.

When I was finished, she told me to hop in the shower and we’d go to the town hall together. Upstairs, I closed the door and went to the furthest corner of her son’s room. I called Lily, who answered on the second ring.

“I know, I know,” she told me while sounding breathless. “Dad thinks it’s best to stop the, and I quote, wave of crime before it gets out of control.” I could hear her exasperation, and I echoed it.

“Lily, I can’t tell them what happened, and we can’t have this blown out of proportion!”

“I know ,” she hissed down the phone. “But we also can’t do or say nothing . You called the police first,” she reminded me.

“Because Royce told me to!” I wailed in defense.

“Well, maybe we need to ask this Royce how we get you out of this?”

Which may not have been a bad idea, but I’d told him I wouldn’t say anything, and I could already see Lily being confrontational about their involvement. They would have no reason to believe that I’d kept my word.

“They don’t need to hear about this,” I told her quickly. “I’ll go and just say as little as possible.”

“Jesus, Willow, you do that anyway.” I heard the sigh. It sounded determined. Dread filled me, and I knew I was in trouble when she said, “Leave it to me.”

Which was exactly what I was afraid of.

I entered the town hall with Lorna on one side, Lily on the other, and Noel reluctantly bringing up the rear to stop me from bolting, I guessed. I could have been unfair, and he may be as genuinely invested in this meeting as his wife, but he didn’t give me those vibes. Again, I could’ve been projecting my inner surliness unfairly towards him.

The town hall was buzzing with low conversation, and I genuinely was dumbfounded about how many people were there. Chairs scraped over wooden floors as people took their seats, and I tried to dig my heels in as Lorna marched us to the front. I felt Lily’s grip on my arm and wasn’t sure if she was trying to hold me back or just hold on.

I knew our town wasn’t a big one, and when a meeting was called, most people turned up…but I hadn’t expected it for me. I started to shake with nerves, and I felt Lily’s grip tighten. I could feel their eyes on me as Lorna walked us down past the rows, and I wondered if this was what a bride felt. The weight of everyone’s stares, being assessed and judged as she passed.

Get a grip. A bride wants to be here!

I needed to listen to myself. I started to take deep breaths, hoping to calm and center myself. I couldn’t afford to freak out. Not when I needed to be evasive.

Sheriff Lincoln was at the front, off to the side, talking to Lily’s father, and I turned to her in accusation and was met with a look of attitude.

“What did you expect me to do?” she hissed from beside me. “Say no, Dad, of course I don’t want to feel safe in my town ?”

“This is a disaster,” I grumbled as I was finally led to a seat that Lorna deemed acceptable. I kept my eyes on the sheriff, and when he caught my eye, he gave a nod of recognition. Also something I didn’t need, to be on his radar .

His eyes swept the room, and he must have liked what he saw, as he made his way to the front.

“Alright, we should start,” he announced, his hand raised to quiet the conversations around us. “Some of you may know, but for those of you who don’t, the recent spate of home break-ins has escalated, and yesterday evening, Canvas & Craft Collective was broken into and severely vandalized.” He gestured to me. “Willow’s home was also broken into, and substantial damage was inflicted on her property.” The gasps rose into a rumble of murmurings. “Now, I know there’s been some speculation, and I know that some of you are scared, but I assure you, we are looking into this and doing everything we can.”

The murmurs grew louder, and I heard people shifting uncomfortably in their seats.

I’d been more focused on the term “spate.” There had been more than one break-in? This had happened to others? Why was this the first time I heard about it? My heart raced, the sheriff’s voice fading into the background as the weight of that word settled in. Had they all been done by shifters?

I glanced around the room, my eyes scanning the familiar faces. How many of them had been affected? How many had been keeping quiet? And more importantly—why?

I felt a knot form in my stomach. Whatever was going on, maybe it wasn’t just about me, and that made me feel worse. Had the shifters who broke into my home known what was happening in town and used that as a way to get into my house?

That didn’t make sense. Why would they need the subterfuge?

Mrs. Lippe, who always seemed to be front and center at these things, raised her hand, not waiting for the sheriff to open the floor for questions. She also didn’t wait to be called on. “We deserve to know what’s going on,” she said. Her voice always made me think of what a hummingbird would sound like. High-pitched and painful to listen to. “People are talking about your department and lack of action. If we are in danger in our own homes, we have a right to know.”

Mrs. Lippe was one of those people—one who would demand answers—and while she may hurt my ears when she spoke, she tended to ask the uncomfortable questions that no one else was willing to raise.

The sheriff’s look was one of a man who had dealt with Mrs. Lippe for too many years. “I understand there are concerns. But we’re still gathering information, and I assure you, when we know more, you’ll be the first to hear it.”

“And what about her?” a man behind me asked, and when I turned to look, he was pointing straight at me. “What about the break-in at her store? Is that connected to the home break-ins?”

I saw them all turn and look at me, and I felt my face flush. I hated being the center of attention, and I was a terrible liar, and I had no intention of telling them the truth.

What a fucking fuckup.

“Say something,” Lorna encouraged me, digging her elbow into my side. Lily heard her and nodded at me. I looked at her with wide eyes, and she jerked her head, indicating I was to stand up.

This was a bad idea. When I looked at the sheriff, he had the same look of expectation as some of the others.

Shit.

Rising to my feet on legs that felt too shaky to keep me upright, I cleared my throat. “Hey.” My voice broke and I sounded like a frog. “So, um, I don’t really know anything, but um, my break-in felt kind of, um, personal.” I gulped mouthfuls of air. “So yeah, um, I don’t think it’s connected.”

The room was silent as they digested my words, and I started to sit down. I was caught in a crouch when someone asked me a question I didn’t have an answer to.

“So…you’re saying the people who broke into my house wasn’t personal?” Her tone was accusing. “Because it felt plenty personal to me .”

“What? No! Of course, I don’t mean it isn’t a personal attack?—”

“Whoa, boy,” I heard Noel murmur, and I glanced at him in panic to see him shaking his head.

The room was silent for a brief moment, and then the silence burst into a cacophony of voices, and I inwardly groaned. Sitting down, I faced the front, avoiding Lorna’s frown and Lily’s muttering about making things worse.

The sheriff finally regained control of the room, and I didn’t raise my head to meet the hard stare I just knew was being directed my way. “Okay, let’s calm it down, folks. As I said, we’re investigating, and Willow’s right, while her two incidents yesterday were unfortunate, there is a different feel to them.” He took a moment and then confirmed what I already knew. “It’s possible that what happened to Willow is not connected.”

Not sure that made it better to hear it out loud.

“Everyone, just stay vigilant, make sure your homes are locked up, and keep calm.”

I knew without looking that Mrs. Lippe wouldn’t be satisfied, and from the grumblings that surrounded me, I knew she wasn’t the only one.

“I know it’s unsettling. We’ll get to the bottom of this, and in the meantime, let’s keep being neighborly and look out for each other.”

The meeting broke up, but that didn’t mean we could escape. Several people made a beeline for me, and I answered as little as possible, letting Lorna take control, with Lily jumping in now and again to save me from putting my foot in it again.

Finally, the end was in sight, and just as I was edging to the door, a hand on my arm halted my escape. Looking up, I saw the sheriff.

“Just a few minutes of your time,” he told me.

“Right.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat and nodded. “Of course.”

Dread swirled in my belly. The real questions were about to start.

Lily took one look at me, saw the hard stare of the sheriff, and wisely ushered Lorna out without a word of protest as she left me with him.

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m okay, thanks.” We stood in the aisle between the rows of seats, but he didn’t offer for me to sit down, and I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to. So instead, I switched my weight from foot to foot and probably resembled someone who needed to use the toilet.

“Sleep okay?”

“Yes, I had a great sleep,” I answered quickly, relieved at the simplicity of the questions, and I knew what I’d done even as the words left my mouth.

“Strange, I can never sleep in a bed that’s not my own.” His thumbs were hooked in his gun belt. The way he stood there, broad-shouldered and exuding authority, he screamed stereotypical sheriff vibes—the kind I’d seen in every TV show I’d ever watched. I almost wanted to ask him if he’d taken acting lessons. The whole stance was too perfect for it to be natural.

“I had a long day,” I told him, breaking eye contact. “I was tired.”

He nodded. “That’s right, you have that illness, the fatigue one.” My smile was tight, but I didn’t elaborate on his rustic understanding of my illness. “I heard about that,” he told me unnecessarily. “I don’t think we’ve spoken before, have we?”

He knew we hadn’t, and his act was pissing me off. “I don’t believe so.”

“Looked into you since last night,” he told me casually. “Not much there, is there?”

“Do you mean in my profile or between my ears?” I should’ve been more careful, but the gleam in his eye when I sassed him told me more about the sheriff than anything he had said so far.

“Quite an inheritance the foster parents left you.” He didn’t react to my look of surprise. “Got anyone you can think of who may target you? To scare you?”

Yup. Some shifters who don’t want me to paint anymore.

“My legal matters were settled.” I held his stare. “Not that I thought you would have access to that information, sheriff?” If my accusation that he’d accessed my files without the proper measures in place bothered him, he didn’t blink, and I decided I wouldn’t either.

Sheriff Lincoln’s smile spread slowly over his face. “Tough girl,” he complimented me. “Good.” He looked around the hall. “Can I be frank with you?”

He thought he’d been anything but that since we’d started talking? “Of course.”

“Your break-ins aren’t related,” he told me. “The others? We know who it is, we just haven’t caught them.”

“Then why didn’t you tell everyone that? Ease their minds?”

“Because I didn’t want to.” His tone held no room for argument. “Dunno why no one else has made the connection,” he added with a sigh. “The vandalism at your place and the art store is on a whole different level. A lot of hate there,” he added, “to shred someone’s belongings like that.”

“Everyone’s an art critic,” I murmured and once more was met with his hard look that saw through my bullshit.

“Makes me think you may know the person who did this?”

“I don’t know anyone who would want to do this to me,” I told him honestly. “Do you?”

“That level of destruction? Usually an old boyfriend, or relative wanting money.” He shrugged. “Sound familiar?”

“No, sir.”

“You lying to me, Willow?”

“No, sir.” I wasn’t. “I have no ex-boyfriend who would hate me, and as I am sure you know, I have no relatives.”

We held each other’s stare, and then I realized something when I thought about the connection he mentioned. “Alistair?” I asked him, lowering my voice, referring to the young boy who would use my key to hide for a few hours when his mom was entertaining . “The other break-ins are Alistair?”

Sheriff Lincoln’s whole face changed, turning from hard-ass cop to resigned, weary man, who wished the answer was different. “It would be appreciated if you kept your thoughts to yourself.”

“He has a key to my house,” I told him, moving closer. “He wouldn’t do this. To me,” I added, since it was likely he was doing it to others. Probably the people who were hooking up with his mom.

The sheriff nodded. “Yeah, I know.” He took his hat off and scratched his head. “Which is why I agree your break-ins are different. The fact it was your business and the house is why we had to take action here today, but if you’re being targeted and have an idea as to why, you should tell me.”

With my fingers crossed in my jacket pockets, I lied to his face. “Trust me, sheriff, if I knew what was happening, I would be the first person to tell you.”

He walked me outside, and we parted ways. While Lily and Lorna grilled me more thoroughly than the sheriff during our short trip to go get lunch, all I could think about was Alistair, and I wondered how I could help him.

Which was a nice change from thinking about how I could help Caleb, until I realized that each was probably as miserable as the other, and that made me lose my appetite completely.