by Tara Kelly
Tire tracks stretched across the mud, going as far as I could see, and there was a small pond to my left with a tiny wooden bridge going over it. Two brown Adirondack chairs, covered with dried leaves and petals, sat on the cement surrounding the water. Beams of sunlight filtered down through the trees, adding to the stillness around me.
You could hide anything out here.
Matt’s and Jenika’s voices seemed to be coming from every direction, but I couldn’t make out what was being said.
A blast of sunlight hit my face as the path curved to the left, blinding me with jagged streaks of light.
“Nova,” Jenika said, her voice much closer now. “Hurry up—you need to check this out.”
I shielded my eyes with my hand and saw a clearing up ahead. There was a structure, an older cabin with a green roof. In front of it was a large vehicle covered by a gray tarp. Matt lifted the tarp, showing a silver bumper and black paint. It was definitely a pickup.
My breath caught in my throat.
“It’s a Laramie Longhorn,” Matt said. “Like the one Ray saw.”
My eyes focused on the cabin. Green moss covered the base and the roof, and the wood was cracked and warped in places, showing signs of rot. The front door looked new, though, with flawless green paint and one of those fancy keyless entry locks.
Dark curtains hid whatever was inside, but there was a tiny blue light, glowing just behind the glass of the front window. I moved closer to see a round black lens on the ledge, pointing right at us. It was a SpiCam, a popular security camera I’d looked into online but couldn’t afford. It let you watch live footage on your phone and sent text alerts when it detected motion.
The trees and the ground seemed to move around me, and a knot formed in my throat. “You know when you said it’d be easy to hide someone away here?” I said, keeping my voice low. “It wasn’t a crazy thought.”
Jenika opened her mouth, as if to protest, but then closed it again, scanning the scene around us.
“Who puts a lock like that on some old shack?” I continued.
“Rich people?” Matt answered.
“There’s a wifi cam in the window, pointed right at us. Why do they need that here?”
Matt’s forehead scrunched up like I was crazy. And maybe I was. There was no smoking gun here. But there were too many things to ignore.
Brandon could pull this off a lot easier if he had help. And he and Gabi would make the perfect team, especially since everyone thought they’d stopped talking to each other. He had more access to the case than just about any civilian in town. She had the perfect place to stash the victims. They probably had to take Alex by force. But it would’ve been so easy for Gabi to lure Christian out here. Amber, too, if she was as drunk as everyone said she was.
I looked back at the cabin, wondering if Alex was in there. If he was alive. Instinct urged me to smash a window and get inside. But they were most likely watching us right now, coming up with a plan in case we did just that. Or maybe they’d already decided we’d seen too much.
Megan. I needed to get back to Megan.
“We have to get out of here and call those detectives,” I said, my mouth going dry as I backed away from the house. “Tell them…”
Matt grabbed my arm, stopping me. “They’ve got a lock and a security camera—so what? That doesn’t prove anything.”
I jerked my arm out of his grasp. “Why do you think this truck is back here, all covered up? They’ve got a garage the size of Texas.”
“There’s a dog kennel and hunting supplies in the bed,” he said, nodding toward the house. “That’s probably where they keep their gear, like—you know—guns.”
Hunting. I hadn’t even put Steve De Luca’s love of hunting into the equation. Mostly because—up until now—I’d assumed the De Lucas were being targeted like the cakes. “So, if they wanted to behead a deer and dump it in a park, they’d be all set, right? Come on, Matt. Tell me this is nothing.”
“All I’m saying is the cops aren’t gonna do shit,” he said. “Not based on this.”
Jenika glanced in the direction of the camera. “I can’t see Gabi offing anyone…”
“Maybe not alone,” I said.
Jenika shoved her hand in the pocket of her cargo pants, as if she was searching for something. “Let’s walk away and go back to the car, like nothing’s wrong.”
“That might’ve worked if we weren’t all gawking at the truck,” I said. “I’m betting that alert she got was Matt nosing around the first time.”
“So, we were admiring it,” Jenika answered. “That’s all she needs to know.”
I inhaled, trying to slow my heart. It was true—the more we showed panic on the outside, the more it would look like we suspected something.
It was hard to put one foot in front of the other, possibly leaving Alex behind. But there was no guarantee he was in there. The only thing I knew for sure was that Megan was alone.
Chapter Twenty-Five
My skin hummed, urging me to run back to Matt’s car. But I focused on the birds singing. I counted to ten in my head. I did everything I could to stay alert and keep my pace steady.
A small voice inside told me I might be losing it. I was convincing myself that Gabi and Brandon were behind this because it was the best answer I had right now. It was the only answer.
But there wasn’t any actual proof.
“Nova!” a voice called out. Megan’s voice.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood. I heard panic, fear.
As we rounded the curve, I could see her walking toward us, her arms up in the air, palms forward. Gabi was about two feet behind, aiming the black barrel of a handgun at Megan’s back.
“Holy shit,” Jenika said under her breath, freezing right where she stood.
Matt stopped, too, looking over his shoulder and back at Gabi and Megan again.
“Stay where you are and put your hands up,” Gabi called out as they continued walking toward us. “Or I’ll shoot her and anyone else I can hit.”
Megan walked stiffly, her eyes wide and dazed. I’d gotten her into this. I’d left her alone. If she died today, it was on me. But I couldn’t waste time feeling guilty. I needed to find a way to make sure that didn’t happen.
“Don’t move,” I said to Jenika and Matt. I could hear their breaths quickening, sense their desperation. Matt’s shoe kept rubbing against a dried leaf in the mud.
I put my hands up first, holding my breath. There were still four of us and only one of her. If Matt and Jenika took off running, there was very little chance she’d get us all.
Matt and Jenika both put their hands up, and I let myself exhale. If Gabi got close enough, we could take her down, wrestle the gun away from her. But something told me she was going to keep her distance.
Her hand didn’t shake, even a little, as she kept the gun trained on Megan. Her plan to get us out of here failed and now she had to fly by the seat of her pants. Alone. Yet her face was a blank slate, almost calm.
Brandon’s emotions were all over his face when he’d caught me going through his backpack. Maybe I had this backward. Maybe Gabi was the mastermind behind this.
I’d never actually seen a handgun up close and in person. The outside didn’t shine like metal—it looked like a plastic toy. But some real guns had a plastic frame. It was difficult for even cops to tell the difference between real and fake. I didn’t have a chance.
“Empty your pockets and turn them inside out,” Gabi said to us, no hint of urgency in her voice. It was the same tone people used to order food at the diner—casual, matter-of-fact. Her gaze lingered on Jenika. “Take your hoodie off first and drop it on the ground.”
Jenika did as she said, shrugging it off, all while holding Gabi’s stare. Challenging her. I wished I could be inside Jenika’s head right now, tell her—just this once—to think before she acted.
I turned the pockets of my jeans out, which meant exposing the Taser. The one thing I thought might
get me out of this.
“Drop it,” Gabi said to me.
I let it fall through my fingers. That was when I noticed the quivering muscles in my legs. My whole body felt weak, detached from my head.
Matt took out his wallet, a pack of cigarettes, and a lighter. Jenika threw down her phone and two folding knives, both tactical.
Gabi gave Megan a nudge forward with her hand. “Pick up the phone and the weapons.”
Megan didn’t hesitate. She knelt down in the mud, gathering up our stuff and hugging it to her chest. Her eyes met mine for a brief second as she grabbed Jenika’s knives. It felt as if someone was wringing out my insides.
Megan stood slowly, facing Gabi this time.
“Throw all of it in the water.” Gabi pointed the barrel of the gun at me, her finger tense against the trigger.
Megan headed toward the pond to our right, her steps small and careful. If I told her to run and she did, it might distract Gabi long enough for us to take her down. But Megan might freeze up. Or she might get shot in the process. I couldn’t risk it.
“Where’s Brandon?” I asked. Maybe she’d let a little fear peek through. A little uncertainty. Anything that gave me a glimpse into her head.
Her lips curved up the tiniest bit. It was the kind of smile you’d give to a child who didn’t know better. “Shh,” she said, her eyes following Megan.
Our stuff splashed into the water, making a couple birds flee their hideaways in the trees. It was so damn quiet. I swore I could hear everything sink.
My thoughts raced as Megan made her way back to us, wondering what being shot would feel like. How much it would hurt. If this was the last time I’d see blue sky. If there was life after death.
But if Gabi were going to shoot us right away, she probably wouldn’t have bothered making us empty our pockets. She needed to buy time. She needed a plan, some way to get rid of or explain four dead bodies on her property.
That could take a while.
“Turn around, keep your hands up, and walk,” Gabi said after Megan rejoined us. “Don’t stop until I tell you to.”
Matt took the lead, and Jenika followed. I nudged Megan ahead of me, so the gun would be at my back, but Gabi grabbed her arm, holding on to her.
“Move,” she said to me.
It was like marching in slow motion toward the edge of a cliff. Our footsteps were hesitant, our breaths quick and shallow. A small plane roared somewhere above, getting louder and softer again—but never disappearing. My body was covered in sweat, but I was freezing, even with the warm air sticking to my skin.
When we reached the cabin, Gabi told us to stop. I glanced over my shoulder at her. She was pressing on the screen of her phone. Something clicked. The door lock, I assumed.
“Open it and go inside,” she said to Matt.
The air in the cabin was stale and ripe with antiseptic, sweat, and a skunky odor I couldn’t identify. We walked through a small entryway with a coatrack and rain boots, toward a larger room.
“Oh my God,” Jenika said, her voice soft.
My heart stuttered. Alex was in the middle of what was probably once a living room, sitting in an old wooden chair. Each of his wrists was cuffed to an arm of the chair, and shackles bound his legs. A black sleep mask covered his eyes, there was duct tape over his mouth, and his head slumped to one side.
He didn’t move at all.
“Alex!” I called out, my voice piercing in such a small space.
He lifted his head, mumbling something. Then his whole body jerked and he sat up straight, his fingers clutching the chair arms. A small part of me felt hope. For now, he was alive. I hadn’t lost him yet.
And I wasn’t wrong about him. He was innocent.
Alex’s brow scrunched up, and his breaths came out fast and hard, his cuffs clinking against the chair. He tried to speak, an O sound, either “no” or “Nova.”
I scanned the room, which was more like a studio. A taxidermy studio. Deer heads lined the walls. There were also fish, birds, and squirrels scattered across metal shelves. A SpiCam was wedged between a duck and a small bird, pointing at Alex. But the blue light was off.
A large owl sat in the far left corner of the room, near a tiny bathroom and a freezer. It stared back at me with yellow eyes. I didn’t know much about hunting, but I was pretty sure owls were illegal to hunt in the U.S.
Gabi stood in front of a long worktable that was soiled with deep red stains and dirt—my stomach tensed just seeing it. Behind her was an entire wall of tools—knives, scalpels, shears, calipers, things I couldn’t even begin to identify. I only knew they were meant to tear once-living things apart and put them back together again.
Gabi told Megan to stay next to her, but instructed the rest of us to stand side by side in front of Alex’s chair and keep our hands up.
“Pat them down,” she said to Megan.
It was a smart move, using the most vulnerable person here to get close to us, do her dirty work. But it was also risky. Megan could lie and say we were clean when we weren’t.
Megan moved behind me first, and Gabi followed, keeping the gun trained on both of us but always staying out of reach. Maybe she was banking on intimidation.
“You really think you can pull this off?” Jenika asked.
“Be quiet,” Gabi said, as Megan patted my sides and my pockets. She did it quickly, her hands barely touching me.
“Or what?” Jenika continued. “If you were gonna shoot us here, you’d have done it already.”
My muscles tensed. Letting Gabi know we’d figured that out wasn’t going to help.
“Keep talking and find out,” Gabi said, her voice still eerily calm.
My eyes went back to those tools on the wall. Shooting people obviously wasn’t Gabi’s thing. She liked to take it slow, be more “hands on.” Or maybe that was Brandon’s thing… Where was he?
My heart pumped harder just thinking of what she might be planning.
A chair, rope tangled around the legs, leaned up against the wall to my right—probably from when Christian was here.
The trash can next to the table was filled with empty water bottles, tape, and cloths. There were boxes of plastic gloves. Shoe covers. Bottles of bleach. Antiseptic wipes. Everything needed to leave as little evidence at a crime scene as possible.
Matt stared straight ahead as Megan patted the pockets of his jeans, his jaw stiffening. His chest moved up and down noticeably, as if he was gearing up for something.
Gabi backed her way around the long table, keeping the gun pointed in our direction. Her other hand gripped Megan’s arm. She was still wearing those sandals, leaving her toes exposed. All Megan had to do was stomp her heel down, as hard as possible. It might buy us enough time to reach them—we just needed a second or two.
I met Megan’s gaze and moved my eyes down toward Gabi’s sandals, twice. Three times. Megan stared back blankly, like a zombie.
Gabi opened a drawer and riffled through it. “Get on your knees,” she told us.
The old wood dug into my knees, making them ache and sting. As Jenika knelt, she slipped her fingers inside her combat boot and pulled something black and silver out. A pocketknife. She dropped it into her back pocket. My eyes flickered up to Gabi, but she was handing a plastic bag to Megan right then, not looking at us.
A little bit of relief fluttered through me.
“Tie their hands behind their back,” Gabi said, guiding Megan toward us again.
Megan pulled out a clear zip tie from the bag. They looked like the kind you’d get at a hardware store—cheap. The kind that may not be too hard to get out of, especially if we had time on our side.
Megan did Matt’s hands first, while Gabi supervised, watching every movement. “Tighter,” she instructed, as if Megan were her student.
Matt winced, his mouth tensing.
“My mom knows where we are,” I said. “And we were supposed to be home by two.”
Gabi didn’t respond.
I overlapped my hands, but I kept my wrists apart, so Megan couldn’t fasten the plastic as tight as necessary.
“Nice try,” a voice said. But it wasn’t Gabi. It was Megan. She shoved my wrists together, squeezing so tight her nails dug into my skin. “She knows you’re lying.”
My lips parted. I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real.
Megan stood then and folded her arms, staring down at us.
“You’re fucking helping her?” Jenika shouted, her face going slack.
My mind wanted to deny it, make excuses. She was doing this out of fear. She had no choice. But those missing pieces of the puzzle began to come together. Who besides Alex would’ve had the easiest access to that gun…
It was something I hadn’t even considered because it was unthinkable. This was Megan.
This was Megan.
“Get the shotgun,” Gabi told her.
“What are you doing?” The words tumbled out of my mouth. “Why are you doing this?”
“You weren’t supposed to be here,” Megan said. “You put yourself here.”
“I wasn’t talking about me,” I said, heat rushing into my face. “He’s your brother—”
“He’s your brother, do it for your brother,” Megan mocked me in a high voice. “I am so sick of hearing you say that!”
Alex made another sound, his fingers curling up inside his palms.
“Megan,” Gabi said. She was still behind us, so I couldn’t see her face. But Megan looked at her the way a little kid looked at their mom when they were in trouble. Averted gaze. A mix of fear and shame.
Gabi told me to sit on the left side of the room. Then she sent Jenika to the right side and had Matt stay where he was, in front of Alex. Why were we being separated?
“Brandon’s not even involved, is he…” I said.
Nobody answered.
I kept going back to the night Alex went missing. Why take him at all? Sure, his disappearance raised suspicions. But kidnapping him and holding him hostage indefinitely seemed rash for someone as calculating as Gabi. A lot could go wrong. They’d have to kill him and frame him.
