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The burglar reappeared upstairs in what looked like Jess’s bedroom. The intruder wore a black ski mask, but he was broad shouldered and around six feet tall—so almost certainly a man. He methodically went through the drawers of Jess’s dresser, but he only shot a glance to the jewelry box sitting on top of it.
The burglar stopped. He pulled a phone from his pocket and held it to his ear for a moment. Then he jammed the phone back into his pocket and ran out of the room.
Hez pushed through the bushes, fighting past the clawing thorns. He raced across the grass and around the side of the house. The intruder was nowhere in sight. A silver SUV roared away from the curb two blocks away, tires squealing. It sped down the quiet street, then turned a corner and vanished.
A siren wailed in the distance. Hez stood in Jess’s driveway, waiting for the police. He was now convinced that someone had set Jess up, though he might not be able to prove it in court yet. But why had they set her up? And what was that burglar searching for?
Chapter 29
The large double room on the first floor of The Swan at Streatley had a terrace that overlooked the Thames. It was comfortable and charming with a bucolic view of trees, flowers, and water. The thought of exploring the old Victorian homes and thatched cottages in town would have been appealing under other circumstances, but the decisions left for her to make about Simon’s future swept away any anticipation.
Simon was in the bathroom changing out of his school uniform, so she sat out on the patio away from little ears. It was one o’clock here, so it would be seven in the morning back home. Hez’s number was at the top of her recent calls, and the phone rang twice before his deep voice answered.
She clutched the phone as if it were his arm she had in her grip. “Hez.” Her voice wobbled.
“Savannah, what’s wrong?”
“Everything.” She squared her shoulders. “The reason for my trip took a very unexpected turn.”
“Can you tell me about it?”
His calm demeanor settled her agitation, and she leaned back in the chair. “I tried to call Jess, but they wouldn’t put the call through. I really need to speak with her.”
“She’s used up her call privileges for the rest of the week. You can’t speak to her until Monday.”
“That’s too late. I need to know what to do. The situation here is not what she thinks.” The dull ache in her head went up another notch. “Is there anything you can do?”
“I can ask for an emergency call, but I’d have to explain what’s going on.”
“I—I can’t tell you. Not yet.” The news would be all over town if Hez had to explain.
She exhaled and rubbed her forehead. “I’ll figure it out. Thanks, Hez.” There was no choice—she had to bring Simon back to TGU. “Good luck with the preliminary hearing. I’ll be praying it goes well.”
“Thanks.” He paused. “Be careful, Savannah. I spotted a burglar searching her home yesterday, and I’m pretty sure she was framed for those murders. Someone is out to get Jess, and I don’t know why. I hope it’s not related to whatever you’re doing.”
She glanced toward the bathroom where Simon was changing. Could this have something to do with him? That made no sense—but then, neither did the fact that she was in England with a surprise nephew. She looked up and down the narrow cobblestone lane that paralleled the river. Nothing but a couple of elderly tourists taking pictures of swans.
“Everything seems safe, but I’ll keep my eyes open.”
Savannah ended the connection and stared at her phone. Without her sister’s input, Savannah was on her own, and she’d never missed Hez’s strong, thoughtful presence in her life as much as she did right now. Talking to him had helped, but this was still her problem to sort out. She called up her flight back to Alabama and changed it to Monday, then purchased another seat for Simon.
He came out of the bathroom in jeans and a tee. “I’m hungry.”
His mood had elevated with every kilometer away from Fairhurst. He’d taken the news of his expulsion with an arm pump of exuberance accompanied by an excited, “Get in!” He’d spent the drive to the inn chattering to her about football—soccer to her—and science, and she’d chuckled several times at his English accent and slang. But questions about the future would be coming any minute.
She dropped an arm around his shoulder. “So am I. Do you want to eat here at the inn or at a nearby pub?”
He leaned into her embrace. “Our favorite chippy place. It’s just down the way, and they have wicked fish and chips.”
“Lead the way, kiddo.”
He pulled on his sneakers—or trainers, as he called them—and they followed the enticing aromas emanating from the line of restaurants down the street to a modest pub with outside tables overlooking the Thames. Savannah asked for a seat outside, and they settled at a shady spot near the sound of rippling water. Birds sang overhead, and the tension in her shoulders began to ease.
Simon leaned forward with an intent expression. “Mum has to take me home now, doesn’t she? I don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“Is that why you ran away?”
He nodded. “I want to be with Mum.” His blue eyes pinned her in place. “Do you know who my dad is? Mum won’t talk about him, but I have a right to know, Aunt Savannah.”
