17
“Hello?” Nathan answered, and I turned toward his voice, pushing up in my seat when his volume dropped to a murmur too low for me to hear.
Footsteps crossed the living room. If Nathan came my way, it had to be Beth.
I tracked his feet along the hall toward me. I stared through the French doors into the kitchen.
“Stay with them.” Nathan appeared in the opposite doorway. “You know what was agreed on this.” Worry rushed through me, as he rounded the table. “Yes, Sean. If they go in, you go in. You have Kyle to back you up. Give him the same order.” Nathan entered the conservatory and towered over me. “Here she is.” He handed me the phone.
I took it, placing it to my ear. “Sean?”
“There’s a bit of a problem.”
My pulse thrummed. “What kind of problem?”
“b****y Marianne has called—sai
