Her Best Friend's Lie

by Laura Wolfe

“Won’t she wonder where it is?”

  “Yeah, but we’ll just pretend like we don’t know. Stuff goes missing all the time. I still can’t find the sunglasses I set on the counter last week.”

  I swallowed, unsure of the appropriate response.

  “Don’t mention anything about it to Kaitlyn or Charlotte, either.”

  I nodded, blowing out a puff of air. Sam was my most loyal friend, and she had never asked much of me. There didn’t need to be any new drama between Sam and Jenna. Maybe Jenna would believe she’d misplaced the mug.

  “Promise?” Sam asked.

  “Yeah.”

  The next morning Jenna opened and slammed cupboard after cupboard. “Has anyone seen my mom’s mug? I swear it was in here.”

  “No.” I turned away from her as my stomach folded.

  Charlotte pinched her lips together. “It was in that cupboard yesterday, same as always.”

  “Is it in the dishwasher?” Sam asked, staring at her feet.

  Jenna pulled open the drawer and studied the dirty dishes. “No. Maybe I took it upstairs.”

  “You probably lost it somewhere in that enormous bedroom of yours.” Sam turned toward me, our eyes locking in a moment of betrayal. All at once, something dark and purposeful hardened in Sam’s face. I had the horrible and fleeting thought that Sam had broken the mug on purpose.

  Sam picked up her coffee and set it down without drinking. Behind her, the water of Crooked Lake lapped against the shoreline. She rubbed her eyes, then blinked at Jenna. “I have a confession to make.”

  Jenna cocked her head. I squeezed my fingers around the edge of the metal chair, afraid to breathe.

  “It was me. I broke your mug. I was taking it out of the cabinet to move things around and it slipped. I should have just told you right then, but I didn’t. I thought you’d never forgive me.”

  Jenna’s eyes popped, but she didn’t speak.

  Sam shook her head. “The more time that passed, the bigger the secret became, and the harder it was to tell you the truth.”

  Jenna flopped back in her chair, squeezing her eyelids shut. “I knew it. I knew one of you did something and didn’t want to tell me. I almost went crazy looking for that thing.”

  Sam pressed her lips together. “I’m really sorry. I wish I’d handled it differently.”

  “Did you guys know, too?” Jenna peered around the circle, my blood turning cold when her stare landed on me.

  “Yeah.” Kaitlyn nodded. “We didn’t know what to do. We all knew how much that mug meant to you.”

  “We didn’t handle it the right way,” I said.

  “I found out about it later.” Charlotte puckered her lips.

  Sam’s eyes watered as she faced Jenna. “I didn’t want to cause you anymore pain after you’d just lost your mom. I thought it would be easier on you if you’d thought you temporarily misplaced the mug. It was such a stupid thing to do. I don’t know what I was thinking or why I hid it from you for so long.”

  Jenna rubbed her forehead and smiled at Sam. “I’m just happy to know what happened to my mom’s mug. I knew it was in the cupboard. I remembered putting it in there the night before. And then it was gone. It’s always bothered me. I mean, I was two days away from contacting Unsolved Mysteries.”

  Sam tugged at the sleeves of her sweatshirt, a smile twitching on her lips. “Can you forgive me?”

  “It’s water under the bridge.” Jenna’s eyes skittered across all of us again like a spotlight. When her gaze hovered on me, I averted my guilty eyes. We’d repeated a lie to her for twenty years. We’d chosen to protect Sam’s secret over telling her the truth. I questioned whether Jenna was glossing over her true feelings so as not to cause issues. I wondered how much the truth could sting.

  Chapter Nine

  An hour later, we were dressed in our hiking clothes and standing on the deck. The morning sun filtered through the leaves and cast spots across our skin. We’d just taken a few group selfies, making sure to capture the sparkling lake in the background. Charlotte promised to add the photos to her Facebook post once we were back within range of a Wi-Fi signal. There’d been no sign of Travis since the night before and everyone’s mood had lightened. Now we took turns holding out our arms as Jenna spritzed us with her all-natural mosquito repellant. I clutched a reusable water bottle in my hand.

  Kaitlyn clapped her hands. “Ready to get some exercise?”

  “How far is it to get to that camp?” Jenna asked. “We should go check it out.”

  I remembered the deserted beach across the lake and realized I wouldn’t mind seeing it up close and letting my bare feet sink into the sand.

  Sam raised an eyebrow. “Isn’t that trespassing, Jenna?”

  “Not if no one sees us.”

  “Maybe we can catch a signal over there.” I waved toward the lake. “Besides, I can’t imagine anyone would be hanging out at a closed-down summer camp in September.”

  Jenna lowered the bug spray. “Someone died there. I bet it’s super creepy.”

  “I don’t know,” Charlotte said, lacing her fingers together. “Sam is right. The camp is private property. Maybe we should just explore closer to where we’re staying.”

  “Oh, come on, Charlotte. Let’s do something adventurous.” Kaitlyn leaned toward Charlotte as if she was explaining something to one of her kids. “Who would ever know if we hiked through the camp? Besides, who cares if anyone sees us? We’ll just say we’re staying across the lake and got turned around.”

  Sam tightened her ponytail. “I guess it’s fine to wander through a deserted camp. Who would be out there, anyway? I didn’t see a single house for miles when we were driving in.”

  “Yeah. Me neither,” Kaitlyn said. “Is that because of the land trust?”

  Jenna nodded. “Yeah. Depending on the terms of the trust, it probably preserves this forest from development forever. It’s kind of awesome.”

  “Why does Travis live here then?” I asked.

  “I don’t know. Someone probably left all this land to the trust. I guess they didn’t include Travis’s parcel for whatever reason. And the camp is probably separate too.”

  Sam waved us forward. “Come on. Daylight’s burning.”

  Charlotte tucked in her shirt and stepped toward us.

  “Lead the way, Megan,” Jenna said.

  “I don’t know where I’m going.”

  “Neither does anybody else.”

  “Okay. I’ll do my best.”

  My feet stumbled along a narrow dirt trail weaving down toward the lake. The water was a deep royal blue set off against the yellow and orange of the changing leaves. The sun popped in and out of fast-moving clouds, causing the lake’s color to dim and brighten. Even though it was September, the searing heat felt more like August. The slope steepened and I lost my footing. I grabbed the narrow trunk of a sapling to keep from sliding down the hill.

  “Careful!” I yelled back to my friends.

  One by one, they found their footing down the cliff. We walked in a single file until we reached the shore of the lake. The decrepit cabin spied down on us from its position on the tree-lined ridge.

  Jenna nudged the sand with the toe of her tennis shoe. “The natural shoreline is so pretty.”

  “I love the sound of the water.” Sam breathed in the air and closed her eyes.

  Kaitlyn nodded. “It’s relaxing.”

  The shore was narrow and rugged, strewn with rocks and sticks. It wasn’t the kind of beach where parents basked in the sun while their kids built sandcastles. Nature ruled here. A decaying log rested nearby. Charlotte made her way over to it and sat down. I edged along the rocks until the shrubs reached out so far that they forced me into the water, making it impossible to continue. Something metal glinted through the leaves. I pulled back a thorny branch, finding an overturned canoe hidden in the underbrush. It was rusty and covered in spiderwebs; it looked like no one had used it in at least a decade.

  “Anyone want to tak
e a boat ride?” I asked, pointing to my discovery.

  Jenna peered over my shoulder. “Ew!”

  “We can’t follow the shoreline. There’s no room. Should we head back to the trail?” I asked.

  The others agreed, and we foraged through the trees, discovering another narrow trail that traveled alongside the water but was further inland. We followed the contours of the lake as it widened in the middle, then turned like a crooked boot just as its name suggested. By the immense size of the lake, I guessed it would be another two or three miles before we reached the camp.

  We traipsed along, enjoying the scenery and listening to Kaitlyn and Sam compare notes on their recent vacations to Costa Rica. I wasn’t sure if the trail would lead us to the camp, but at least it was a pretty hike. As long as we could see the lake, we wouldn’t get lost. The path snaked through the woods for what seemed like miles. We followed it up a steep slope as lactic acid burned through my thigh muscles.

  “We’re gonna feel this tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow? I feel it now.” Jenna made a face and we all laughed.

  At last we reached the top of an incline where the path opened into a well-marked trail. I paused and pulled out my phone to check for reception. There was no signal. Through huffing breaths, Charlotte told us about a ten-year-old boy who’d lost the use of his leg after a skateboarding accident shattered his knee. “He had multiple surgeries, but still couldn’t walk. I’ve been working with him three times a week at the clinic, guiding him through endless physical therapy exercises. He has such a great attitude. Then, amazingly, last week, he started walking on his own.”

  Sam beamed. “Wow! That must be so rewarding, Charlotte.”

  “It is. I mean, his mom was crying because she was so happy. I couldn’t help tearing up, too. It’s not all sunshine and puppy dogs, though.” Charlotte told us another story of her least favorite patient, an older woman with severe arthritis of the spine who refused to do the exercises and berated Charlotte every chance she got.

  After five more minutes of trekking, we reached a clearing in the woods. The lake was no longer in view, and the tall trees of the forest encircled us. A climbing wall towered above us with a few wooden benches positioned around it.

  Jenna gasped. “This must be part of the camp.”

  I stepped back and surveyed the eerie scene, feeling like I’d stumbled across the relics of a lost city. “Anyone want to give the climbing wall a try?”

  Jenna bound toward the wall. “I will.” She hoisted herself up, finding the lowest footholds. She got about halfway up before leaping down amid our chuckles. “It’s harder than it looks.”

  Charlotte smiled. “Yeah. Especially for a bunch of forty-year-olds!”

  We laughed at ourselves as we wandered down an adjoining path that deposited us into a field. A half-dozen archery targets formed a line along the perimeter, and a wooden hut with small windows stood across the way. I walked toward it, finding the bows and arrows were still inside. I jiggled the handle, but someone had locked the door.

  “They must have shut this place down in a hurry.” Sam appeared next to me, staring at the bows on the other side of the murky glass.

  “Hey guys, there’s zip line over here!” Jenna yelled from beyond the trees.

  Sam and I jogged to catch up with the others who had already moved on. They stood in a group with their faces tipped toward the sky. A thick wire ran from a high wooden ledge about thirty feet off the ground, ending at another perch about two hundred feet away. A handlebar hung from the wire close to the first ledge, but someone had tied it down.

  Jenna hopped to the side. “I want to do it!”

  Sam shook her head. “No way. We don’t even know if it’s in working condition.”

  “Yeah. They tied off the handles, anyway,” I said, studying the tall perch. “The camp clearly doesn’t want people using it.”

  Jenna was already halfway up the wooden ladder. “You guys are acting like old ladies. Is that what having kids does to you?” She threw her chin in the air. “Let me have a little fun.”

  Kaitlyn turned and widened her eyes at me. I gave her a knowing look and shrugged. Maybe Jenna was right. Becoming a mom had made me paranoid about situations I wouldn’t have thought twice about pre-motherhood.

  “Careful!” Charlotte yelled, shielding her eyes from the sun. “Isn’t there supposed to be a safety harness or a helmet or something?”

  Jenna struggled with the rope that secured the handlebars. She untied the knot and reached forward, smiling down on us. “Don’t worry. I got it!”

  “At least pull on the line to make sure it’s secure,” I yelled.

  Jenna jiggled the line, then pulled the handles toward her. She gave a thumbs up. “All good!” She took a running start and leaped into the air, hanging on to the metal bar. “Wheeeee!” she squealed as she flew past us in a blur of turquoise and pink. Pure joy radiated from her, and I was suddenly glad we hadn’t stopped her.

  “Jenna! Say cheese!” Charlotte held up her phone to take a photo.

  Jenna turned toward us, grinning. But the mid-air rotation caused one of her hands to lose its grip. Jenna’s body straightened as she struggled to catch her balance. She was only ten feet from the landing site when her legs flailed and her fingers slipped from the handlebar. Her body flopped like a rag doll toward the ground. She landed with a thud.

  I screamed.

  We raced toward her. Jenna lay on the ground, clutching her ankle.

  “Oh my God!” Kaitlyn and Charlotte said at the same time. We crouched around Jenna.

  “Are you okay?” I asked.

  “My ankle.” Jenna’s face twisted in pain. She clutched her left ankle, not her right, and I didn’t know whether to be relieved or worried. Her right leg was the one that had never recovered from the car accident. Jenna’s yelp forced me back to that devastating night twenty years earlier, but I pushed the memory away.

  Sam crouched over her. “Can you wiggle your toes?”

  Jenna winced. She sat upright with her leg stretched in front of her, giving a slight nod.

  “Do you want me to take your shoe off?” Sam asked.

  Jenna waved her off. “No. Leave it.”

  Charlotte huddled between Sam and me, placing her fingers on Jenna’s ankle. “It doesn’t look broken. You probably sprained it.”

  “Good thing we have so many medical professionals here,” Kaitlyn said.

  “Should we help you up?” Creases formed across Sam’s face. “Or do you want to sit here for a while?”

  Jenna placed her palms on the ground. “Help me up. I don’t know if I can put my weight on it, though.”

  I stepped forward. “Put your arm around my shoulder. I got you.”

  Jenna raised her eyes to me and held out a hand. I pulled her up and she looped her arm over my shoulder. I took a step and she hopped next to me.

  “Sorry, guys,” Jenna said. “I guess your mom instincts were right. I’m an idiot.”

  “That’s okay. We need you to keep our lives interesting.” Kaitlyn offered a sympathetic smile.

  Jenna waved toward the wire. “That counselor probably died in a zip-line accident. Mystery solved.”

  I giggled at Jenna’s joke, relieved to find her in good spirits.

  Sam eyed Jenna’s ankle as sweat glistened across her forehead. “This will be a long hike back to the cabin.”

  “I think this path might get us back faster.” Kaitlyn pointed toward a trail that branched toward the lake.

  Sam shook her head. “Let’s go back the way we came.”

  “Sam’s right. We don’t want to get lost,” Charlotte said.

  We paused, looking back and forth. Jenna waved toward the trail. “No. It’s fine. We’ve come this far. Let’s try the new route so we can check out the rest of the camp.”

  We hiked toward the trail, finding a wooden sign painted with white lettering. Sam read it aloud: To Cabins.

  Charlotte threw back her head. �
��We’re going in the wrong direction.”

  Charlotte was probably right, but curiosity about the abandoned camp tugged me forward. I recognized the same inquisitive glint in Jenna’s eyes as she hopped along next to me. The trail led us up a gradual incline to a ridge overlooking a grassy expanse. Six wooden cabins perched in a row. A massive log building sat in the distance. A sign above the door read: Mess Hall. Another building was marked: Arts and Crafts. A smaller one was labeled: Office. Even further beyond, another six cabins dotted the landscape. It was easy to imagine a bustling summer camp filled with happy campers and fun activities. Instead, the atmosphere was quiet and empty. I wandered past the vacant cabins, supporting Jenna’s weight and feeling as if we’d stumbled into a ghost town.

  “This is a little weird,” I said.

  A trail led down a hill toward the water. I recognized the rectangular patch of sand as the beach we’d spotted from across the lake. The decline would be too steep for Jenna’s ankle.

  A deer darted across the field in front of us. Two more followed before they disappeared into the woods.

  “Oh my God!” Charlotte jumped in front of us, her eyebrows raised. “There’s someone over there.” She spoke in a whisper and flicked her eyes in the direction of the distant cabins. “We should leave.”

  I peered toward the cabins. I thought I’d seen a flash of movement in my peripheral vision, but there was nothing there now. An ominous presence prickled over my scalp.

  “Who?” Jenna asked.

  Charlotte shook her head. “I don’t know, but we’re trespassing. What if it’s Travis?”

  Jenna sighed. “Travis doesn’t own this land either. He’d be trespassing too.”

  “Charlotte’s right. We should leave,” Sam said, frowning.

  I flipped around, just as eager as Sam to head back to our home base.

  Jenna squared her shoulders. “Wait. I think we should take a look. Maybe it’s a caretaker for the camp. Maybe they have an extra ace bandage somewhere for my ankle.”

  I inhaled a breath of courage and turned toward the cabins again.

  “I guess I can go check it out,” Charlotte said.