Wyatt drove on the erratic side from his house to Deirdre’s, which was only about ten minutes. She’d claimed she was okay, but she’d barely been able to speak. He couldn’t help the paths his imagination took, and he envisioned everything from her being gone from the house to chilling on the front steps with his favorite pizza.
His heart bobbed around inside his chest, nothing anchoring it. He thought of her stories about how she’d come to love lemon drops, and he really hoped the call had stemmed from something good, not something sinister.
He turned onto her lane and approached her house a little slower than he’d been driving. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Her car sat in the shallow driveway, and the door was closed. After pulling next to her, he jumped from his Jeep and hurried t
