Contents
Cover
Recent Titles by Patricia MacDonald
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Recent Titles by Patricia MacDonald
THE UNFORGIVEN
STRANGER IN THE HOUSE
LITTLE SISTER
NO WAY HOME
MOTHER’S DAY
SECRET ADMIRER
LOST INNOCENTS
NOT GUILTY
SUSPICIOUS ORIGIN
THE GIRL NEXT DOOR
MARRIED TO A STRANGER
STOLEN IN THE NIGHT
FROM CRADLE TO GRAVE *
CAST INTO DOUBT *
MISSING CHILD *
SISTERS *
I SEE YOU *
DON’T BELIEVE A WORD *
THE GIRL IN THE WOODS *
* available from Severn House
THE GIRL IN THE WOODS
Patricia MacDonald
This ebook is copyright material and must not be copied, reproduced, transferred, distributed, leased, licensed or publicly performed or used in any way except as specifically permitted in writing by the publishers, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law. Any unauthorised distribution or use of this text may be a direct infringement of the author’s and publisher’s rights and those responsible may be liable in law accordingly.
First published in Great Britain and the USA 2018 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD of
Eardley House, 4 Uxbridge Street, London W8 7SY
This eBook edition first published in 2018 by Severn House Digital
an imprint of Severn House Publishers Limited
Trade paperback edition first published
in Great Britain and the USA 2018 by
SEVERN HOUSE PUBLISHERS LTD
Copyright © 2018 by Patricia Bourgeau.
The right of Patricia Bourgeau to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs & Patents Act 1988.
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.
ISBN-13: 978-0-7278-8778-8 (cased)
ISBN-13: 978-1-84751-894-1 (trade paper)
ISBN-13: 978-1-78010-957-2 (e-book)
Except where actual historical events and characters are being described for the storyline of this novel, all situations in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to living persons is purely coincidental.
This ebook produced by
Palimpsest Book Production Limited,
Falkirk, Stirlingshire, Scotland
For Gwen Oliva. May you be blessed with your mother’s love for books and the written word
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Particular thanks this time around to my agent, the capable Danielle Sickles. Thanks, as ever, to Meg Ruley, whose lighthearted touch always makes it fun! Thanks to Kate Lyall Grant and Edwin Buckhalter in England, for inviting me to join them in this new venture. I’m especially grateful to Anne Michel, and her wonderful team at Albin Michel, for being my guardian angels in France. I have been so very lucky to have this House as my home in Paris for all these years.
PROLOGUE
The din on the bus was deafening. The students were like a pack of wild animals, freed briefly from the confines of the dun-colored junior high, only to be restrained again on the dilapidated, yellow school bus. They resisted vehemently, bouncing on their broken-down seats and screaming. They poked and provoked those in nearby seats and communicated solely by shouting at the top of their lungs. Every so often the driver would turn around and yell at them to ‘Zip it’. This only served to provoke cascades of laughter and insults.
Blair Butler sat silently by the window, trying to stay still, and not draw attention to herself. She only turned her head a few times to exchange a smile with Molly Sinclair, who was seated next to her. Molly, petite and self-possessed, with long brown hair, was Blair’s best, her only friend, and today, Molly was making a rare after-school visit to Blair’s house. Molly had obtained a permission slip to ride on Blair’s bus for the occasion.
Usually they hung out at Molly’s house, which was on another bus route that ran along the opposite side of the woods in the Pocono mountain town where they lived. Today, Apres Ski (the coffee house on Main Street which Molly’s family owned) was closed, so that Molly’s parents could both go to a trade show in Philadelphia. Molly’s parents didn’t want to leave her home alone. The police had been called several times to the house next door in recent months. Their neighbor was a mean drunk, who took his frustrations out on his family with his fists. The Sinclairs wanted to take Molly with them to Philly, but Molly had a presentation to give that day and wanted to go to school. So, much as Blair dreaded having anyone over to her uncle’s, inviting Molly to her house seemed like the obvious thing to do.
The bus snaked its way slowly up and down the hilly streets of Yorkville, letting off students at intervals. It turned a corner and trundled down Main Street. There were not too many people on the downtown streets on this bleak, weekday afternoon in early November. The trees were bare, but the snow, which brought winter sports and prosperity to the town throughout the winter, had not yet begun to fall. As the bus made several stops along the Main Street, Blair pressed her nose to the window and looked out. They passed by the coffee house, the five-and-ten, the newspaper office and several sweatshirt shops. A woman, bundled up in a parka and a knitted hat, was being pulled along the empty street by her dog on a leash.
Blair turned to Molly. ‘How’s your dog?’ she asked.
Molly had recently been allowed to adopt a puppy from the animal shelter. The furry golden-haired pup had big eyes and her bark was still a yip. The thought of such a companion was bliss beyond imagining for Blair, although she knew that it would never happen to her.
‘We took her to the vet for her shots. Pippa wasn’t even afraid. Dr Kramer says she’s healthy, though she had some fleas. We had to get some medicine to put on her once a month.’
‘Who’s taking care of her today?’ Blair asked.
‘She’s in the basement and we’ve got paper spread everywhere cause she’s not trained yet. They left her food and water. Mom says Pippa will be all right till they get back. They’re supposed to be back by seven thirty to pick me up. She’ll be ok till then.’
Blair nodded as if she understood, but in fact, she knew nothing about training an animal. There h
ad never been a pet in Uncle Ellis’s house. The only animals he was interested in were the ones he killed during hunting season. A lot of the other men he knew had hunting dogs, but not Ellis. Dogs were too much trouble according to him. Dogs and nieces, he would say, referring to Blair and her older sister, Celeste. But Ellis had no choice about the nieces. Blair stifled a sigh.
‘Not too much farther now,’ she said anxiously.
The bus left the downtown area and almost immediately was surrounded again by the woods which covered these mountains. The bus wove down through the narrow streets and stopped at the corner of a dirt road.
‘This is us,’ said Blair.
Molly followed Blair down the aisle of the bus. The population of homeward bound students had thinned and had lost some steam, but Blair and Molly still had to dodge projectiles and desultory hoots and curses. Blair looked straight ahead and pretended not to notice, but Molly, who was not easily intimidated, turned and glared at their tormentors.
‘Assholes,’ she pronounced.
Blair stifled a smile and wished she had that kind of courage. Together they descended the bus steps and jumped off. The sudden silence around them, except for the rushing of a mountain stream, was a relief. Blair took a deep breath of the cold, clear mountain air once the bus had pulled away. Then she pointed down the road about five feet to where the dirt road met the macadam. The girls began to walk.
On the other side of town where Molly lived, the few houses built there were well-kept, nestled among the tall pine trees. The road to Uncle Ellis’s house was dreary and overgrown. Celeste and Blair’s mother, Tina, had grown up in this very house at the end of Burnham Lane. It must, at one time, have been a nice house, but now the road was dotted with rundown trailer homes and the Dietz’s old house looked as if it was going to implode on itself. The paint had peeled off the shingles and there was automotive junk everywhere in the yard. The front porch had a giant hole in the floorboards. Rather than repair it, Ellis had put sawhorses around it. Most embarrassing was the oversized, ripped, faded confederate flag, which was spread out and fastened to the front porch wall, completely covering one window. Blair cringed at the sight of it. Worse was his collection of Nazi memorabilia in the living room. The thought of anyone seeing those swastikas made Blair feel sick to her stomach. She avoided going in there at all costs. Those are my uncle’s beliefs, she wanted to say to anyone who came to the house, I’m not like that. But a glance at Molly’s face reassured her. Molly didn’t need convincing. She already knew that.
Blair led the way up the steps and unlocked the door to the house. Ellis was still at work. His truck was not parked outside. She called out, on the chance that Celeste might be home. She was not surprised when Celeste did not answer. Beautiful Celeste, with her long, black hair and perfect figure, was never home. She stayed away as much as she could. She cared nothing about school work, so she didn’t come home to study. And she had friends with cars now, so escape was possible for her in a way that was not yet possible for Blair.
Blair turned on the lights on the first floor and led the way into the kitchen. Knowing that Molly was coming, Blair had cleaned it up as much as possible last night. The linoleum was old and worn and the table and chairs felt greasy. She thought of the shining, stainless steel kitchen island in Molly’s house, but then she put it out of her mind. At least there weren’t dirty dishes on every surface. She had made sure of that. She went into the ancient refrigerator and took out two orange sodas which she had bought for the occasion. She also had a pack of peanut butter cookies for them.
‘Let’s take them to my room,’ she said. Just in case Uncle Ellis comes home, she thought, but she didn’t have to say it. Molly took her share and they went upstairs to Blair’s room and closed the door after them. Blair locked it behind her.
Blair had picked up and made the bed in the narrow room. They sat down on the bed and had their snacks. In no time, thanks to the irrepressible Molly, Blair began to relax. They began talking and joking, sharing their bits of gossip from the day. They progressed to polishing their nails and searching through Facebook on Molly’s laptop. Lost in their own world, they could have been anywhere. This is pretty good, Blair thought.
At virtually the moment she entertained that thought, she heard the front door bang open, and the sound of her uncle’s heavy tread entering the house. She could hear him muttering although he did not call out, either to her or to Celeste. He never did. She remembered her early childhood, when her mother was alive and would always be glad to see them when she picked them up at daycare, or when she woke them in the morning. It was getting harder to visualize her mother’s face these days. Tina had died eight years ago, when Blair was five and Celeste was nine. Their father had left them years earlier. Blair did not remember him at all. And when Tina was diagnosed with stage IV lung cancer, that was the first time Blair remembered meeting Uncle Ellis.
Ellis was married at the time to a plump, blond woman named Sheree, who wore rhinestone studded jeans and who insisted, after Tina died, that Ellis had to take his nieces in. There was room in the big, old house, Sheree argued, and she longed to be a mother to the girls. So Blair and Celeste were packed up, removed from their foster family in the city and hauled off to the Poconos. Within a year, Sheree had met another man and left town, leaving her angry, disgruntled husband with his two unwanted nieces to raise.
‘I think I’ll use this gold-flecked one on my toenails,’ said Molly, holding up one of the bottles of nail polish.
‘Yeah, that’s good,’ said Blair.
‘Whatsa matter?’ Molly asked.
Blair could hear Ellis trudging up the stairs. She glanced at the door of her room.
‘Nothing,’ she said.
‘Just ignore him,’ Molly advised.
Blair nodded, but she couldn’t help thinking that it was easy for Molly to say. She had a father and mother who adored her. They never yelled at her, or tried to scare her, or lock her out of the house when they got mad about something.
‘I will,’ she said.
But it was never that simple.
‘Blair,’ he bellowed, stomping down the hall toward her room. He grabbed the doorknob. ‘Open this door.’
Molly looked up, wide-eyed, her sanguine advice forgotten as the doorknob jiggled crazily.
‘Just a minute,’ Blair said angrily, getting up from her seat on the bed and going to the door.
‘How many times do I have to tell you? Don’t you lock this door on me.’
‘Sorry,’ Blair mumbled. She opened the door and Ellis filled up the doorway, glowering. He was a tall, lean man, with unkempt, graying hair, a stubbly beard and purplish pouches under his wild, malamute eyes. He wasn’t always loud and cranky. He could be almost normal when he wasn’t drinking. But once he had the first beer of the day …
‘What’s this?’ he demanded, waving a piece of paper in his hand. Blair could not see what he was holding.
‘I don’t know,’ she said. ‘It looks like a letter.’
Ellis peered at the paper he was holding and then he shook it at her.
‘It’s a letter all right. From the school.’
Blair tried to think if she had done anything wrong, but nothing came to mind.
‘What does it say?’
‘It says that your application for the computer science camp at the university during the winter break has been accepted. And that it will cost two hundred and fifty dollars.’
Blair’s face flamed.
‘Oh right,’ she said.
‘And where are you going to get two hundred and fifty dollars, may I ask?’
‘I was going to …’
‘You want to go to computer camp? That’s the one time of year when a kid can make a buck around here. You can work at the Lodge or one of the ski shops—’
‘She should go,’ Molly spoke up defiantly. ‘She’s smart in science.’
Blair’s heart sank. She loved the way that Molly always spoke up for herself
, even with grown-ups, but it didn’t pay to be brave around Uncle Ellis.
Ellis stopped in mid-tirade and leaned over, peering at Molly.
‘Who’s this?’ he demanded, though he had seen Molly coming and going many times. Blair could smell liquor on his breath, but she had already recognized the signs. He was ready for a fight, as he often was when he stopped off at the VFW bar on his way home.
‘Molly,’ said Blair.
‘Well, Molly, why don’t you just mind your own business? I’ll decide what Blair can and cannot do—’
‘That’s not fair,’ Molly insisted. ‘Computers are the future. My Dad always says so.’
‘Oh, your Daddy says that, does he? Well if he knows everything, then maybe he’d like to pay for it.’
Molly glared back at him, but did not answer.
Ellis ignored Molly and turned to Blair.
‘Ok, that’s enough,’ he growled. ‘Stop playing around and get started on dinner. Where’s that sister of yours, by the way?’
‘I don’t know. Probably at Amanda’s,’ Blair mumbled. Amanda Drake was Celeste’s best friend, and they were practically inseparable.
‘They’re probably out chasing boys. The two of them,’ said Ellis. ‘Up to no good, as usual. You,’ he barked at Molly. ‘You run along. Blair has work to do.’
‘I invited her,’ Blair protested. ‘She’s supposed to stay here until her mother picks her up.’
Molly’s cheeks were flushed. She began to gather up her stuff.
‘That’s ok, Blair,’ she said in a shaky voice. ‘I’ll walk home.’
‘No,’ Blair protested. ‘It’s getting dark. You can’t walk all that way.’
‘It’s not that far. I know the way,’ said Molly.
‘But your Mom didn’t want you to be home alone. She was worried about that guy in your neighborhood.’
‘I won’t be alone. I’ve got Pippa. She’s like a guard dog.’
‘But we promised your Mom. I’m coming with you,’ said Blair.
‘The hell you are,’ Ellis bellowed. ‘You’ll stay right here. You’ve got chores.’
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