Chapter 173

#Chapter 173 – Sneaky Squirrel John Walsh storms into breakfast the next morning, making everyone at the table freeze.

“What is the meaning of this,” he growls at Evelyn, who stares at him with a piece of toast half in her mouth.

Evelyn removes her toast and clears her throat. “What are you talking about, dad?” she asks.

Ian, seated next to her, stares at his grandfather, his hands still wrapped around his teacup filled with hot cocoa.

“Joyce,” Walsh says, glaring at them as he comes to the head of the table. He doesn’t sit down, but instead places his palms flat on the table, leaning forward to glare at his wife, his daughter, and his grandson, all seated there.

All three blink at him and Evelyn’s mother glances at the door.

“Is he not coming down for breakfast?” she asks.

“Oh shoot,” Evelyn says, her eyes narrowing sarcastically. “And I was so looking forward to seeing him.”

“He has not reported for duty,” Walsh says, glaring around at them. “He didn’t even check in last night, after he went out.”

“Well, what was he doing out?” Ian asks, his eyebrows raised.

Walsh glares at him.

“If he missed his bedtime,” Ian says, all innocence, “then it sounds like it’s his fault.”

Evelyn works hard to keep her face straight, sending Ian a little glance of appreciation. God, she loves her kid.

“I know that you’re behind this, Evelyn,” Walsh says, ignoring Ian and turning his wrath on Evelyn. But Evelyn cut her teeth on that wrath – she knows how to handle it.

“I’m sorry, dad,” she says, reaching calmly for a bowl of cut fruit that a servant set in front of her. “But I really don’t know anything about what you’re talking about. You know that Joyce and I haven’t had any contact for years – why would I know anything now?”

She lifts the bowl of fruit and daintily gives herself a scoop before returning it to the center of the table.

Ian opens his mouth to say something else but he’s interrupted when James Willard pushes through the door.

“What the hell is going on,” Willard hisses, coming close to Walsh and not looking to see who else is in the room. “The Beta encampment is in chaos – Joyce was supposed to be there this morning –“

Walsh gives him a stern look and then nods his head towards the rest of the room, asking Willard, silently, to consider his audience.

Willard’s mouth slams shut as he glances at the family, doing a double-take when he realizes that it’s Evelyn sitting there, and not Emma, as he had expected.

“Well,” he says, his demeanor changing to one of cool composure. “Evelyn. So lovely to see you again.”

“James,” she says, pleasantly, sitting back in her chair and picking up her cup of tea. “Truly a pleasure to see you as well. I never got a chance to thank you, by the way – it’s by your grace that I’m here today, back under my father’s care.”

He raises an eyebrow at her silent.

“Yes,” she says, nodding and indicating her black eye. “Thank you so much for breaking your word to Victor and secretly keeping my allegiance to my father’s pack. If you’d kept your word, I’d have been stuck in a terribly abusive situation. In so many ways,” she says, c*****g her head charmingly to the side and giving him a pretty smile, “you’re my savior.”

Willard blinks at her, not really knowing what to do with this information. “Of course, Evelyn,” he says, giving her a cursory little bow. “I always had your best interests at heart and knew that your place was, of course, in your father’s home.”

Evelyn gives him a little nod and sips from her teacup.

Willard turns his attention back to Walsh. “We need to talk,” he says, gritting his teeth. “In private.”

Walsh nods and indicates the door, through which both men pass. As soon as the door swings shut, Ian turns to his mother.

“Mommy,” he says. “Can I go play?”

“Of course, baby,” she murmurs, turning her attention to a newspaper that had been left on the table by the servants for the family’s perusal. “Don’t get underfoot.”

Nodding, Ian scampers towards the door. Evelyn’s mother opens her mouth to protest but Evelyn interrupts her.

“Oh, let him play, mom,” she says, giving her a smile. “He needs to learn how to entertain himself on his own, anyway, without us or Alvin hanging around.”

Her mother considers this, watching the door swing shut again after Ian’s little form passes through it.

“Does he seem all right without his twin? I know they’re never apart.”

“He’ll be just fine,” Evelyn murmurs, still absently reading the paper. Her mother hesitates a moment and then picks up the Arts pages. The two read together in quiet, the picture of familial harmony.

Ian slinks down the hallway, sniffing carefully, trying to follow the freshest of his grandfather’s scents to determine where he had gone. Adults walk too fast, he thinks, frustrated as he tries to find a balance between looking casual and tracking his quarry.

Luckily, he discovers that they haven’t gone far. His grandfather’s office is at the end of the hall and, in their hurry, Walsh and Willard left the door open a crack.

Stupid mistake, Ian thinks, sitting down in the hallway outside, daddy wouldn’t have forgotten to close the door. Then, he takes a set of jacks out of his pocket and settles in to listen, bouncing the ball and collecting the jacks as he does.

“-should never have put this much control into the hands of someone so young,” comes Willard’s angry voice.

“Joyce will take control of this pack as my grandsons’ ward, when I am finished,” Walsh replies, his tone harsh. “He needs the experience and he has the training to do it. Stop doubting him – I’m sure that everything is fine.”

“Nothing is fine,” Willard hisses, and Ian hears something bang in the room – maybe someone hitting a wall, or a desk? “Don’t you see what his happening? Your daughter disappears, replaced by her sister – Joyce disappears as well – and at the same time…”

“At the same time?” Walsh asks, frustrated. “What?”

“This –“

There’s a pause in the conversation and Ian pauses his game, desperately wanting to know what’s going on in the room. Carefully – very carefully – he leans forward until he can see through the crack in the door and – beyond it – just barely set eyes on the two men together bent over a phone.

Walsh leans back and Ian does as well, taking his eye away from the door, returning to his game.

“Enlighten me,” Walsh says dryly. “What is it that that aerial footage is supposed to tell me?”

“That’s Kensington’s Beta encampment,” Willard growls. “Drone footage from this morning. Don’t you see? He’s on the move. He’s rallying his troops, getting them in formation to march. Today.”

There is silence in the room then and Ian takes a moment to smile. Good. His dad was on the move.

He didn’t know what, precisely, Alvin and his dad were up to – but he was excited to hear that something big was happening. Something that had Willard and Walsh worried.

“What is it that you suspect,” Walsh says quietly, some of the sneering condescension wiped form his voice. “That he’s coming here?”

“Well, considering that his other declared enemy right now is a single Rogue woman, then yes, Walsh, I think he’s marching on us. Now.”

“And the timing,” Walsh says, considering. “With Joyce’s disappearance, and Evelyn’s return…”

“My point precisely.” Willard says, smug.

Time to go, Ian thinks, gathering up his toys and shoving them back in his pocket before moving silently away from the door. He scampers to the other end of the hall and dashes up the stairs, his light feet making no noise as he goes.

Then, safely upstairs, he dashes directly into his mother’s room, pushing the door closed behind him and leaning against it.

Evelyn is waiting for him, sitting on the bed and smiling.

“Well, sneaky squirrel,” she says, leaning forward to put her elbow down on the coverlet and smile at her boy. “Come and tell me everything you heard.”

Ian gives her a big grin and jumps onto the bed.