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“If you haven’t found her yet, she’s probably not coming back,” he said with eyes lowered, telling me he hated to be the one to deliver this somber news.

“I know, but we have to try.”

“Good luck, then. She seems like a sweet kid. I hope it all works out for her.”

“Yeah, me too,” I said before ending the call.

16

When I returned to our room, I found Charlene bouncing on top of the mattress showing great excitement.

“That was awesome!” she cheered while Charles took a video of her adorable antics.

We really needed to get back outside to look around for her mother some more, but our search was beginning to seem more and more hopeless. And right now the young kitten was so happy that I hated to upset her by abruptly changing the subject. So instead I stood with Charles and watched her celebrate meeting her newfound hero.

When she tired herself out enough to fall back to sleep, we snuggled together while watching a movie on my iPad. Once that was over, Charles ventured into town to grab dinner and some more supplies while I hung back with Charlene, continuing to search local rescue groups for any sign of her lost mother.

That night, we ate dinner in bed, enjoying the simplicity of each other’s company. After that, we spent some more time outdoors, hoping Charlene’s mother would find us—but no such luck.

We went to bed, the day ending much better than it had started, thanks to our caution. Still, even if we managed to survive the rest of the week at the mansion, we were still facing a ticking clock when it came to reuniting the kitten with her mother. I really hoped this week would have a happy ending for the sweet girl, seeing as Charles and I had already gotten ours.

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I woke up sometime during the night to the sound of heavy footsteps treading outside our door.

Charles slept deeply beside me, his soft breaths making it obvious the sounds hadn’t disturbed him in the slightest. Well, that just left me to investigate. I refused to be a sitting duck while someone planted some new trap for us to fall into the next day. Poor Charles had already been through more than enough.

Tugging my robe around me, I padded out into the dark kitchen and flipped the light switch on.

A shock of rainbow hair greeted me.

“Blaire, what are you doing out here?” I glanced at the digital clock above the stove. “It’s two o’clock in the morning!”

“I know what time it is,” she told me flatly, shutting the fridge before her, but not without first taking a jug of milk in hand.

“I thought the kitchen was off limits,” I pointed out sassily, too tired to try to play nice with someone who wouldn’t even meet me halfway.

She rolled her eyes.“Which is why I’m here in the middle of the night, duh.”

“You’ve done this before, haven’t you?” I asked as she headed to one of the cupboards and grabbed a glass, seeming to know exactly where she’d find it. “Are you the one who slipped laxatives into the potato salad at lunch?”

Blaire couldn’t hide her spurt of laughter, not that she tried to.

“It’s not funny,” I seethed, then grabbed the glass of milk from her before she could bring it to her lips. “Would you please take this seriously? You poisoned the potatoes, locked him in his room, sabotaged the stairs. When will enough finally be enough?”

Her eyes widened as she ran her fingers over the milk jug’s handle. “Calm down. I didn’t do any of that, okay? I literally do not care enough about you or your husband to attempt to poison you.”

I nervously picked at the skin on my elbow. Was I wrong in accusing Blaire, or was she simply denying her misdeeds now that she’d been caught?

She placed the milk back in the fridge, then asked,“Do you really think someone sabotaged the stairs?”

I nodded emphatically.“Yes, and he could have been seriously injured. In fact, it’s basically a miracle that he wasn’t.”

She frowned, for once showing some small sign of concern for other people’s problems. “That’s pretty serious. Maybe you should talk to Mademoiselle Blue or whatever her name is.”

“But what if she’s the one doing all this stuff?” I pointed out in a hushed whisper.

Blaire frowned and shook her head.“No. I mean, why would she?”

“Why would anyone? We know absolutely no one here. None of this makes any sense.” I sighed, becoming more and more frustrated as I thought about everything that had transpired since our arrival.

“Why did you think it’s me?” Blaire asked, her eyes meeting mine for a second before glancing back toward the counter.

“You’re here in the middle of night, right outside our room, and you laughed this morning over the accident on the stairs, then laughed again when I told you about the laxatives.”

“Because things like that are funny when they’re happening to someone else,” she said, rolling her eyes at me a second time.

“It’s not funny.” I thrust her glass of milk at her, then crossed my arms, incensed. “And for that matter, I still don’t know whether I can cross you off the list of suspects. You are here right outside of our room in the middle of the night.”