Page 86 of Her Wicker Guardian

“You live here?”

Locke looks toward the cottage.

For a second, I think he’s looking at me for the answer. Then I remember Tessa asking him the same thing less than an hour ago.

He takes in the cottage, the porch, the workshop, and the pile of split wood.

“Yes.”

Aaron nods. “All right.”

“You’re taking this remarkably well,” I say.

“No, I’m not.”

That gets the laugh out of me.

He rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “I’m going to get into my car, go somewhere people aren’t staring at me, and have a conversation with my supervisor that I’m probably going to regret for the rest of my career.”

“That seems fair.”

Aaron looks at Locke again. “People are going to keep calling us and driving by.”

“I know.”

“If somebody threatens you, comes onto the property after being told to leave, or causes trouble, Rachel can call us.”

Locke’s brow draws together. “Only Rachel?”

Aaron pauses. “No. You can call.”

“I do not have a phone.”

Aaron looks at me.

I shrug. “We haven’t gotten that far.”

“I’d move it up the list.”

Locke considers this. “Good answer.”

I make a sound somewhere between a cough and a laugh.

Aaron looks at me. “What?”

“Nothing. He’s been alive less than a week and he’s already figured out he needs a phone.”

At his cruiser, Aaron stops with one hand on the door. “Locke?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll probably have more questions later.”

Locke looks toward me, then at Tom, then back to the deputy. “Everyone does.”

Aaron laughs once. “Fair enough.”

He drives away.