No Show

MARISSA

Layton was supposed to arrive at our house at eleven in the morning. By ten forty-five, Annie was practically bouncing off the walls from excitement. She’d changed her outfit three times, had two different backpacks packed—one for in case we went fishing and another in case she would need toys and puzzles for where ever we ended up going.

I was ready to go, too. I’d paired jeans with comfortable knee high riding boots, my red coat and a camel jersey. Feeling relatively confident that I looked good, I left my hair loose to tumble down my shoulders and kept my makeup to a minimum.

My purse was on the table in the entrance hall and I had stocked the fridge, just in case we decided it was too miserable to go out and stayed here instead. My eyes dropped to my watch for the fifth time in as many minutes, only to note that Layton was now yet another minute later than he had been a minute ago.

That made him twenty-two minutes late in total. In all the time I’d known Layton, I’d known