The house was quiet. He wandered into the living room, then stepped out through the French doors onto the concrete slab that would hold his screen porch when the carpenters came back. A stack of lumber waited for them. He tried to enjoy the stars, but his heart wasn’t in it. The farm was supposed to be his refuge, the place where he could kick back and relax, but now Mad Jack and Riley were asleep upstairs, and he only had Blue to protect his blind side. Everything in his life had gone off balance, and he didn’t know how to straighten it out.

He wasn’t used to feeling unsure of himself, so he went back inside and headed for the stairs.

What he saw at the top brought him to a dead stop.

Chapter Sixteen

Riley sat huddled on the top step, a butcher knife clutched in her small fist, Puffy at her side. The knife couldn’t have looked more out of place with her pink, candy-heart pajamas and round child’s face. He did not want to deal with this. Why wasn’t Blue here? She’d know exactly how to handle Riley. She’d say just the right thing.

He had to force himself to mount the stairs. When he reached the top, he nodded toward the knife. “What were you planning to do with that?”

“I—I heard noises.” She drew her knees tighter against her chest. “I thought there might be…like…maybe a murderer or something.”

“It was just me.” He leaned down and took the knife from her. Puffy, looking considerably cleaner and better fed than on Friday, gave a wheezy sigh and closed her eyes.

“I heard noises before you came in.” She gazed at the damned knife as if she thought he might use it on her. “At ten-thirty-two. Ava packed my alarm clock.”

“You’ve been sitting here for two hours?”

“I think I woke up when Dad left.”

“He’s not here?”

“I think he went to see April.”

It didn’t take much imagination to figure out what Mad Jack and dear old Mom were up to. He strode down the hallway to Jack’s room and pitched the knife on his bed. Let him figure out how it got there.

When he returned, Riley was right where he’d left her, still huddled over her knees. Even the dog had deserted her. “After Dad left, I heard creaking sounds,” she said. “Like somebody was trying to break in, and maybe they had a gun or something.”

“This is an old house. They all creak. How did you get the knife?”

“I sneaked it up to my bedroom before I went to sleep. My—my house at home has security alarms, but I didn’t think there are any alarms here.”