by BETH KERY
“What did he say?” Alice asked.
“That it was more than likely someone else taking an early morning jog, just like you.”
“So why are you so worried about me being attacked or something?” she asked with amused puzzlement.
“Because I saw how afraid you were that morning,” he replied simply.
She’d wanted to thank him for that—she had been terrified that morning—but didn’t know how to without sounding stupid. She gave his hand a warm squeeze instead. He kept his gaze trained ahead on the shadow of the tree line, but she thought he’d understood when he squeezed her back.
FOR the last event before supper that night, the scheduled mandatory camp activity was a group discussion about trust along with an exercise. At the last moment, Kehoe announced that two assigned teams would participate in the event together. Alice didn’t think it was chance that her campers got paired up with Brooke Seifert’s Silver Team. She worried several of the Durand managers had noticed how the chill factor went to negative territory whenever Alice and Brooke were around each other.
Alice gritted her teeth and dove into the task.
The guided group discussion went all right, seeing how she and Brooke basically had only to follow a loosely structured script designed for group leaders. They didn’t really have to interact personally with one another. The hitch came afterward, during the activity.
It was the standard organizational trust activity, where team members were asked to let go of control and fall backwards into a peer, trusting to be caught and kept from harm. Brooke and Alice demonstrated using members from their team how to safely catch, slowing the fall and gently guiding the person to the lawn. The kids practiced on members of their own team. Then, the circle of trust was widened to include less familiar members of the other team. They were nearing the end of the exercise, and dinnertime was drawing near, when Terrance Brown suddenly called out.
“Hey, Alice. You’ve got to do it now. Counselor to counselor, Red Team versus Silver Team, Alice versus Brooke,” he said dramatically, putting up his hands into claws like he was announcing Godzilla versus Mothra. Alice glared at Terrance. Several of the kids laughed, but she didn’t think they understood why entirely. Leave it to Terrance, the walking social barometer, to have picked up on the dislike between Brooke and Alice.
“Yeah,” Judith said, tossing her long dark hair over her shoulder and smirking as she glanced between Alice and Brooke. “I’d like to see that.”
I’ll bet you would.
Judith’s sneering contempt of Alice hadn’t eased up a bit. Alice glanced at Brooke, who was watching her with bitchy wariness.
“Well?” Alice asked, shrugging and moving into position behind her. Might as well get this over with.
“Why do I have to go first?” Brooke hissed as the kids crowded around excitedly in a loose circle to watch. Their talking and laughing muted Brooke’s and her conversation.
“Why do you care? Do you have some reason not to trust me?” Alice asked very quietly.
Brooke’s gaze skittered anxiously off the surrounding faces and then back at Alice.
“I’m not going to drop you. I’m not that petty,” Alice said through stiff lips, making a subtle reference to what Brooke had done on the zip-line platform.
Just as she suspected, her reassurance had the opposite effect on Brooke, who briefly looked even more nervous. Nevertheless, Brooke lifted her chin and turned around, a grim expression of determination falling over her face.
Alice had to hand it to her. She had courage, especially since Alice would have loved to see her fall on her ass in front of all the kids.
And Brooke knew it.
In the periphery of her vision, she saw Kehoe’s head appear at the back of the crowd. Brooke stood stiff as a statue. She fell gracefully, and Alice caught her with ease. As she stood, Brooke’s gaze glided over the crowd and landed on Kehoe. They switched places, and Brooke brought her gently to the grass.
Alice calmly ignored Terrance’s and Judith’s disappointed expressions at the lack of drama (in Terrance’s case) or violence (in Judith’s). Alice praised the kids for a job well done and dismissed them to wash up for dinner. Brooke took off toward the cabins, surrounded by her team. Alice did the same, herding her chattering campers. In the distance, Kehoe walked toward the main lodge alone.
She was positive Brooke hadn’t seen Kehoe come to observe. Brook had been turned away from him when he’d quietly arrived at the back of the circle. Alice, on the other hand, had fallen knowing Brooke was aware of Kehoe by the time they’d switched places.
So why had Brooke trusted that Alice would catch her when she had no knowledge of Kehoe hovering? The question festered like a splinter under her skin. Somehow, it meant Brooke had been the bigger person. Brooke had excelled at the personal challenge, choosing to trust even when she doubted …
While Alice had never really taken a risk like Brooke had. She’d never trusted.
Alice had only played it safe.
THAT night after dinner and the evening activity, Alice sat with three of the girls on the sectional couch in the common room. A television show had got them casually talking about the highs and lows of dating, and—much to Alice’s shock—Judith had actually drifted over from where she’d sat alone reading and listened in on the conversation. Predictably, she remained standing, hovering around the periphery, instead of totally entering their circle.
“You’re giving him too much power over you,” Judith said abruptly as Darcy Givens, a talkative, anxious-to-please sixteen-year-old, gushed and anguished over a guy in her neighborhood back home. “He’ll walk all over you with that attitude. You’re like a puppy begging to be petted. You’ll get kicked instead.”
Darcy looked stung.
“What are you hoping to achieve by talking to her like that, Judith?” Alice wondered, irritated and genuinely curious at once.
Judith’s expression turned truculent as she regarded Alice. “I’m trying to give her some advice.”
“Really?” Alice asked.
“Why else would I have bothered coming over here with you losers?” Judith snapped. She started to turn away in a huff.
“If you really meant to help Darcy out, then sit down and do it,” Alice challenged. Judith’s hair whipped around her shoulders. She glared at Alice fiercely. Alice just arched her eyebrows in pointed expectancy.
A few seconds later, Judith fell to the sofa, crossing her arms in a belligerent gesture. Alice inhaled slowly to calm herself.
“I believe you,” Alice said, holding Judith’s stare.
“You believe me about what?” Judith asked, sarcasm dripping like toxic ooze.
Alice silenced her own knee-jerk, aggressive response with gargantuan effort.
“I believe you wanted to help out Darcy. I’ve seen how good you are with Jill,” Alice said pointedly, referring to Jill Sanchez, the young, vulnerable girl who worshipped Judith. In the distance, Jill looked up from where she was diligently drawing in her sketch-book. Art had proven to be Jill’s strength and solace. Alice was keeping close tabs on her with the camp’s talented art therapist, Miguel Cabrera. Jill was still drawing and painting comfortable landscapes versus working out some of her past domestic trauma through her art, but Miguel assured Alice she’d venture into more challenging topics when she felt more psychologically secure.
Presently, Judith noticed Jill’s anxious expression, and forced the frown from her face. She smiled reassuringly at the girl. Looking reassured, Jill went back to her drawing. Alice nodded once at Judith in approval.
“When you come on so strong,” Alice continued more softly, “it’s really hard to take in what you’re saying.” Judith opened her mouth to retort. “A bitchy attitude gets through to people, Judith,” Alice said before the girl could interrupt. “Just not in the way that you want it to. It hurts. It doesn’t help. If you came over to give advice, then the arrow strayed way off target by the way you offered that help.”
Judith just stared for a moment, her mouth falling open.
“Did you really mean to help me out?” Darcy asked shakily after a tense moment.
“Yeah,” Judith mumbled irritably, staring at the carpet.
“Thanks,” Darcy said.
Judith twitched slightly in a “no problem” gesture and Alice sensed the give in her armor.
“And to be honest, I think Judith had a point, Darcy,” Alice said, trying to diffuse the girl’s focus on Judith. “You’re not acting like a slobbering puppy, I don’t mean that. But this guy’s attention isn’t going to make your life perfect, and you’re acting like it will.”
“But he’s so incredible,” Darcy persisted.
“If you’re so preoccupied with his incredibleness, he’s never going to notice yours,” Judith said.
Alice blinked, stunned by the girl’s conciseness. “Now that’s good advice,” she said, a smile breaking free.
“Maybe you’re right,” Darcy acknowledged.
Judith looked at Alice warily from beneath a lowered brow. Hopefully. A rush of amazement went through Alice. She recognized Judith’s expression.
Alice was the one usually wearing it.
“I’m here early,” Crystal Dean called out, approaching them. It felt like the fragile moment among Alice and the girls fractured. “It’s Friday night, Alice. Why don’t you take off? I saw some of the other counselors out on the grounds, and they were talking about going into Morgantown to get something to eat. Maybe you can join them.”
Judith abruptly got up.
“Judith,” Alice called out, getting up from the couch as well. Judith flew out of the common room. Alice followed her down the girl’s hallway, hoping to solidify the tenuous connection. Before she could reach her, however, Judith disappeared into her room and slammed the door behind her. Alice pulled up short and started to walk away.
Suddenly, she halted.
She recognized this particular gesture on Judith’s part as well, and had responded to it instinctively by departing. Didn’t Alice constantly retreat when her defenses were breached, eager to be alone so that she could lick her wounds and let the scar tissue build up once again?
She thought of last night, in bed with Dylan. She’d felt raw and exposed when he’d asked about her father. But Dylan hadn’t let her run away. Not completely. He’d only let her retreat to the bathroom for a bit to gather herself.
When she’d reemerged and come back to the bed, he hadn’t said another word. He’d just held and stroked her until she’d fallen asleep, his quiet acceptance and strong embrace speaking louder than words.
Well, she wasn’t as skilled at this communication thing as Dylan. But she wasn’t going to just give up, either. Alice hurried to the common room and found some paper and a pen. She wrote briskly, and then folded the note.
“Night, everybody,” she called out to the kids. She smiled broadly at the loud chorus of good-byes. She was starting to really like her kids.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do tonight, Alice!” Terrance called out slyly.
“Okay, so don’t be silent and tactful?” she tossed off over her shoulder, giving the boy a fond but pointed glance. Terrance’s brown eyes went wide. He and his friends roared with laughter. Alice paused, waiting for their amusement to quiet. “Remember what we’re doing Monday before breakfast?” she asked Terrance.
Terrance rolled his eyes and groaned. “Ah, no. You really going to make me go jogging with you? And that early in the morning?”
“You lost the bet during football practice,” Alice said, shrugging. “A deal is a deal. You go jogging with me at least three times a week. You afraid you can’t keep up?”
“I’ll keep up,” Terrance insisted while his friends snickered.
“Can I go, too?” Justin Arun piped up.
“No, just me and Alice, fool,” Terrance said, scowling forbiddingly at his friend.
Alice suppressed a grin. Terrance acted miffed about their deal, but she could tell he was secretly pleased to have been singled out for a little individual time with her. She prayed she could sell him on the benefits of exercise. She knew Terrance was strong physically from their football practices and various activities. He was just alarmingly obese, and had to deal with a chronic illness—diabetes—that most adults struggled with when it came to treatment compliance. Just today, the visiting physician had okayed Terrance for jogging. Alice had her work cut out for her.
On so many levels.
Before she left for the night, she slid the folded note under Judith’s door.
THAT night, she thought a lot about her encounter with Judith, and her earlier experience with Dylan. Was Dylan as challenged by Alice’s defensiveness and suspiciousness as Alice was by Judith’s? The thought made her feel a little guilty.
It also made her feel a lot heartsore, because she couldn’t make it up to him. Dylan was hundreds of miles away.
After she walked out of the Red Team cabin that night, her gaze was immediately drawn to the top of the tree line and the distant bluff. She couldn’t see it because of the woods, but the castle was up there, empty as a shell without its master.
A sharp, poignant feeling rose in her chest. It took her a moment to recognize it as potent longing. She missed him. Like hell.
And she’d just seen him this morning.
A huge red warning flag unfurled in her mind’s eye.
You are making the biggest mistake of your life, caring about him.
“Hey, Alice,” Dave Epstein called out to the right of her, interrupting her self-lecture. She turned to see Dave and Kuvi walking toward her.
“Some of us are going into town to the Lakeside Tavern. They’re supposed to have good pizza. Gina Sayre lives in Michigan, so she brought her car to camp,” Kuvi said, referring to another counselor. “You up for it?”
Alice hesitated. Dylan had said he wanted her to stay in behind a locked door tonight. But surely he was overdoing his cautionary measures.
Besides, Dylan Fall didn’t control her.
“Yeah, sounds good,” Alice agreed, falling into step beside her friends.
Of course nothing sinister happened that night, and Alice managed to put her longing for a man that was way out of her league on the backburner—for a few hours, anyway—while she drank a few beers and socialized with her fellow counselors at a cute lakeside pizza place. She had a good time sitting on the back patio with her friends, even if she sensed Thad’s gaze on her cheek way too often. She hoped the fact that she treated Thad exactly the same as her other friends sent a gentle message to him.
Well, nothing majorly sinister happened that night, anyway. Something odd did. The more Alice thought about it later, the more it bothered her.
She walked with Kuvi, Thad, Dave, and Gina to the car when their night came to an end. The parking lot was dimly lit. Alice was carrying a to-go pizza box, and the menu attached to it flew off, skittering away in the lake breeze. The others kept going, but Thad halted.
“Go ahead, I’ll catch up,” Alice assured him. The two of them hadn’t really had a chance to rehash the conversation they’d started before Dylan interrupted them last night, and Alice wasn’t really up for doing so at the moment. Thad looked a little disappointed, but nodded once before he jogged to catch up with the others.
Alice chased after the wind-tossed menu. After she’d caught it, she spotted a garbage can at the edge of the parking lot. As she turned away from disposing of the paper, her gaze glided past a parked car. A man was slumped behind the wheel. She recognized the averted profile. He turned to her suddenly, maybe sensing her attention on him. An uncomfortable jolt went through her as she briefly locked stares with Sal Rigo, one of the Durand managers.
She hurried across the dark parking lot, her skin tingling, eager to catch up with her friends.
Was Rigo following them? They’d been told several times by Sebastian Kehoe that their personal time was their own. But was that just a Durand ploy,
in order to observe them when their guard was down?
As soon as they all got in the car and exited the parking lot, Alice told the other four about seeing Rigo. Everyone was surprised, but Dave got mad.
“Figures,” Dave stated bitterly. “They’re always spying on us.”
“I saw Rigo following us when we left the beach this afternoon,” Kuvi said to Thad and Alice. “He creeps me out. I’ve seen him lurking around our cabin, too.”
“Really?” Alice asked Kuvi, who nodded.
“But Rigo was probably just waiting for someone after they ate at the Lakeside, right?” Gina reasoned. “It’s a popular spot in Morgantown. Plus, as a Durand employee, Rigo probably lives around here. Over half the executives they employ do. He might be a regular at the Lakeside, for all we know.”
“I didn’t see him anywhere in that place. Did any of you?” Alice asked the others.
All of them shook their heads.
“Well he didn’t come there to admire the view of the parking lot,” Alice mumbled, staring blindly out the window.
What if the counselors were being followed?
What if the Durand managers—or Sebastian Kehoe himself—knew about her nocturnal meetings with Dylan Fall?
Did Dylan himself approve of this surveillance? If so … did that mean that the Durand employees were colluding with their boss’s activities? Or was Dylan in the dark about the surveillance as well?
THIRTEEN
He returned home from his business trip at around noon and made it only as far as his in-home office. Without pause, Dylan plunged into a number of calls to the marketing division. He wanted to clear his slate before he met with Alice. Her concise, brilliant drill-down of the numbers followed by his meeting with Durand’s northeastern region vice president yesterday had engineered the structure for a bold new marketing plan for VitaThirst utilizing the advertising firm Alice had recommended.
“Fall,” he answered distractedly into the phone when it rang at around one thirty. He assumed it’d be one of the marketing managers getting back to him with the data he wanted.
