Chapter Eleven

Lauren

I wake up to a chilly breeze sweeping over my back.

Instinctively, I reach for the blanket but fail to find it. Instead, my hand brushes against my bare thigh.

Bare?

“Shit.”

I sit up as I realize I’ve fallen asleep naked, the cot creaking beneath me in protest. Not just that. I realize I’m not in my bedroom but in an old barn, the window open and the first flecks of amber staining the edge of the dark horizon.

“Good morning,” Chase greets from behind me, rubbing his eyes.

I give him a sheepish smile. “Good morning.”

I grab my underwear and my blouse, slipping them back on.

“How are you feeling?”

I sit on the edge of the cot. “I’m all right.”

I know I smell sweaty and I can feel a soreness between my legs as well as something sticky on the insides of my thighs but other than that, I’m fine.

Chase places his hand over mine. “You’re not regretting last night, are you?”

“No,” I answer quickly, looking down at my lap. “It’s just… I can’t believe it, that’s all.”

He sits up. “Believe what?”

I shrug. “Everything. Me, not being a virgin anymore. You, being a billionaire and all.”

Chase sits beside me, our knees touching. “Did you really see my house?”

I nod then turn my head up toward the ceiling.

“It’s far bigger and better than this.”

He chuckles, stretching his knuckles as he leans forward. “Yeah. You’re right.”

I look at him. “How many rooms does it have?”

He shrugs. “I don’t think I’ve ever counted.”

“That many, huh?”

“I’d love for you to see it someday.” He reaches for my hand again, placing it on his lap and entwining his fingers with mine. “I’d love for you to meet my mother, too. She’s a very kind woman.”

I fall silent, pursing my lips as I remember the grief-stricken woman I met at the asylum.

Chase squeezes my hand. “What’s wrong, Lauren?”

I meet his gaze. “I’ve… actually already met your mother.”

His eyebrows furrow. “At the mansion?”

I shake my head as I look away from him. “No. At a place called Renaissance Inc.”

“I’ve never heard of it. Is it a wellness center?”

My eyebrows shoot up. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“She loves those. She gets some sort of bath every week. If it’s not mud or milk, it’s seaweed. Gross, right? But she always ends up looking and smelling fantastic.”

“No, I don’t think this was the same as those,” I tell him.

“What do you mean?”

I take a deep breath. “I met your mother at a… psychiatric institution.”

“What?” Chase stands up. “That can’t be. I know a lot of rich people suffer from some mental disorder but I can assure you my mother wasn’t one of them. She was always positive and carefree.” He shakes his head as he scratches his chin. “No, there must be some mistake.”

I get on my feet as well. “She had blue eyes like yours and wavy golden hair.”

His eyes grow wide with horror.

“And she had a pendant shaped like the letter E with small diamonds on it.”

Chase grabs my shoulders. “How did you meet her? What did you tell her? What did she say?”

“I saw a van coming out of your place from that institution. Then I saw the place on my way home. I stopped by and I saw her there. I asked her who brought her there and she said it was Terrence. She said he was in control of everything now.”

Chase’s gaze lowers, his grip on my shoulders loosening. “My uncle.”

I step away from him, folding my arms over my chest as I walk to the window.

“I tried to tell her you were still alive but she wouldn’t believe me. She only got mad at me, in fact.”

“She believes I’m dead.”

I turn to look at him. “She’s suffering, Chase. She thinks she’s lost you for good.”

“I know.” He leans over the window sill. “I’m worried about her. That’s why I sent James to check on her.”

He straightens up.

“Wait. Wasn’t James there? If you knew my mother was there, James should have…”

I purse my lips again.

“What happened to James?” he asks.

I rub my arms, feeling a sudden chill. “I don’t know. All I know is that he went to your place and he never came out. I waited and waited but he never came out.”

The color drains from his face. He runs to the bed, getting something from under his pillow. A phone. He dials a number then holds it to his cheek.

“The number you are trying to reach is not available. Please…”

“Fuck!” He throws the phone on the bed then sits on the edge, running his hands through his hair.

My hand goes over my heart, my chest growing tight. I want to go to him and wrap my arms around him but suddenly, I hear footsteps approaching.

Shit.

There’s only one other person on the farm, and he can’t see me like this.

I jump out the window, Chase throwing me the rest of my clothes, my scarf, and my shoes. I miss one shoe, picking it up just as I hear the door to the barn creak open.

Quickly, I scurry toward the wall, clutching my things as I press my back against the side of the barn.

“Morning, Chase.”

I hold my breath as I hear my father’s voice inside the barn.

“Isaac,” Chase greets him. “I was just about to go out there and do my chores. Hey, Smoke. How are you doing, buddy?”

Smoke?

Shit.

“Have you seen Lauren?” my father asks. “Her car’s back but she wasn’t in her room and her bed looks like it hasn’t been slept in.”

“Strange,” Chase says. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

I frown.

“So, you haven’t seen her?”

“No,” Chase answers. “I haven’t seen her. Maybe she went over to Kelly’s.”

“Hmm.”

The bed creaks.

“Smoke, get off the bed!” my father shouts.

“It’s fine,” I hear Chase say.

“No, it’s not. I don’t want him on my bed next. He’s a good boy and all but trust me, he’s got fleas. He seems awfully interested in your bed.”

I turn my head to take a peek through a small hole in the wall, seeing Smoke enthusiastically sniffing the bed.

“What are you sniffing there, huh?” Dad sits on the cot, then runs his hand over the sheets. “Did you spill something here?”

“No. That must just be sweat. It was a warm night.”

I clasp a hand over my mouth, trying not to laugh at the knowledge of what Smoke must be sniffing.

Bad dog.

“So, do you want me to go look for Lauren?” Chase asks.

“Nah.”

As I peek through the hole again, I see my father get off the cot, pulling his pants up.

“She’s old enough.”

Chase nods. He already has his pants and his shirt on and is just putting on his hat.

Finally, Smoke gets off the bed but starts sniffing the wall behind me next.

Shit.

I quickly dart toward the nearest tree as quietly as I can, hiding behind it.

What is it with me and hiding behind trees lately?

From where I’m hiding, I don’t hear any more of the conversation inside the barn. I hear the door open moments later, though.

“I’ll leave it to you then,” my father says. “Come on, Smoke. Let’s head back to the house and wait for Lauren there.”

“Don’t worry,” Chase calls after him. “I’m sure she’s fine.”

I wait until the footsteps fade. Then I steal a peek, seeing Chase standing in front of the barn. He walks over to me.

“Is he gone?” I ask him.

“Yeah.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Whew. That was close.”

“Yeah.” Chase grins. “Thankfully, I’m a good actor.”

“You mean a good liar,” I tell him. “And thankfully, Smoke’s not as young as he used to be or he’d have found me.”

“Thankfully, Isaac didn’t sniff the sheets himself.”

I chuckle. “We were lucky this time.”

“Yeah.”

He leans forward, pressing his lips to mine.

The kiss lasts only a second but my heart is doing somersaults again.

“I better go. I’ll try calling James again later.”

“Okay.” I nod. “I should get back to the house.”

“You should.” He touches my cheek. “Though maybe you should put pants on first. Your father might not appreciate the view as much as I do.”

He walks off with a wink, leaving me blushing and still flustered from the kiss and the near escape from my father.

What a crazy adventure this is all turning out to be.

---

I find my father just in front of the house, sitting on the bench with a lamb sucking a bottle of milk on his lap. Beside him, Smoke is busy chewing on his bone but wags his tail as I approach. My father notices and looks up, our eyes meeting.

“Good morning,” I greet him, kissing the top of his head.

He looks away, turning back to his task. “Where were you?”

I pet Smoke’s head. “I was taking a walk.”

Well, I was just now, after getting dressed. I decided it would be a little suspicious if I came back to the house right after my Dad paid Chase a visit.

“When did you arrive? I was waiting for you last night.”

“Sorry,” I mumble, placing my hands behind my back. “My friend and I lost track of time so I came home late.”

“You could have called.”

“I wasn’t sure if you had your phone turned on or if it was with you.”

“You would have found out if you had called.”

He lifts his head and as I see the pain in his eyes, I feel a thorn in my chest and a lump in my throat.

I’ve lied to my father before. I’ve hurt him before. But not like this.

I’m a jerk for making him worry needlessly.

I squat in front of him, placing my hand on his knee. “I’m really sorry, Dad.”

He doesn’t answer but the fact that he doesn’t say more lets me know I’m forgiven.

He’s never been able to stay mad at me.

I reach out to pet the lamb, fingers rubbing against the soft wool. “This is Martin, isn’t it?”

He nods.

“Hello, Martin. Hey, easy on that bottle, all right?”

The lamb keeps sucking enthusiastically, the bottle only about one-fifth full.

I pat him on the head. “He’s going to be a strong ram, this one.”

“He better,” my father says. “We don’t have too many good ones left.”

“Don’t you worry, Martin,” I talk to the lamb in my baby voice, rubbing between his ears. “Dad and I will take good care of you.”

“And Chase,” my Dad adds. “You forgot Chase. Something tells me he’ll be around for a long time.”

I say nothing, simply nodding.

Just then, I hear wheels approaching behind me. I get up and turn my head, seeing a maroon Tahoe pulling into the driveway.

I frown. Yesterday, we got a visit from a patrol car. Now, this.

My father doesn’t seem too pleased either. Not a long time ago, there were some people in fancy SUVs dropping by the ranch and trying to talk him into selling it. I hope these people aren’t like them.

The SUV stops and two men come out, one wearing a leather jacket over a white shirt and faded jeans, the other wearing sunglasses, a checkered red and black shirt and dark jeans with silver sneakers. They’re both tall and heavily built, almost six feet tall and maybe around 200 pounds each.

“Good day.” The guy in the checkered shirt removes his sunglasses as he stops a few feet away from me then holds up the tablet he’s holding. “We’re from the Census Bureau.”

Census Bureau? I throw my father a puzzled look.

“What do you want?” he asks them.

“We’re just going to ask some questions,” the man with the leather jacket answers.

That’s what the detective said yesterday.

Still, I take a deep breath and force myself to relax. There’s no use being paranoid.

“I’ll let you deal with them,” my dad says suddenly, standing up beside me. “I’ve got to bring this lamb back to the flock and take care of a few more things.”

I lift my eyebrows. He’s leaving me to deal with these guys?

Then again, he’s never been the friendly kind of guy, which is why he’s spent most of his life cooped up here in this ranch.

“Okay,” I say as I watch him go.

It’s not like I have a choice.

I turn to the visitors. “So, what do you want to know?”

The man in the checkered shirt taps the screen of his tablet. “We just want to know how many people live here along with the names and ages.”

“Well, there’s my father, Isaac Calver, the man who just left.” I glance behind me but my father is completely out of sight. “He’s fifty-four.”

“And you?” the man in the leather jacket asks.

I tuck some strands of hair behind my ear. “I’m twenty. I’m Lauren Calver. I’m not sure if you can still count me as living here, though, since I go to college.”

“Lauren Calver,” the man in the checkered shirt repeats as he types on his gadget. “What about your mother?”

“She’s been gone for a long time,” I answer.

“You mean dead?” the other man asks.

I nod, folding my arms over my chest.

I don’t really want to talk about it, not to a pair of strangers. Besides, if they’re from the Census Bureau, shouldn’t they know about it? They’re the ones who are supposed to be experts on births and deaths, right?

“Anyone else?” the man in the checkered shirt asks.

“Just a farmhand staying in an old barn. He hasn’t been around for long.”

“A farmhand?”

“Yeah. He’s…”

I pause, catching the glint of a gun beneath the leather jacket of the other man. Do the people who work for the Census Bureau normally carry firearms?

Something tells me no. Not just that. I’m beginning to think these guys may not be from the Census Bureau, after all.

Maybe I should have asked them for IDs.

“You were saying?” the guy with the tablet asks with raised eyebrows.

“Um…”

“What’s his name?” the other man asks.

“Jack, I think,” I answer, thinking up of a fake name on the fly. “Or was it Jake? Jake Brown or something. I can’t remember.”

“Age?” the man in the checkered shirt asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know. Early twenties, maybe.”

I know Chase is twenty-nine.

The man types on his tablet, the other falling silent as he glances around. I put my hands in my pockets, leaning back on my heels and holding my breath as I impatiently wait for them to leave.

Finally, the man lowers his tablet, nodding. “Thanks for your cooperation.”

I just nod. The other man offers to shake my hand so I let him, noting his vise-like grip.

They go back to the car, driving off after a few minutes. After they’ve gone, I sit on the bench behind me and place a hand over my chest, letting out a sigh of relief.

I’m not really relieved though. In fact, I feel worried, wondering who those men were and what they really wanted.

I have a bad feeling about this.