by Laura Wolfe
“Look at the beach across the lake.” Jenna’s eyes held a distant look. “I wonder if there’s someone over there. I wonder if they can see us.”
Charlotte set down her fork. “I don’t think there was anyone there. Kaitlyn yelled pretty loudly and no one responded. I must have made a mistake.”
My eyes drifted over the water toward the empty beach. I kept staring, hoping to catch sight of a person on the other side. Maybe there was someone who could make a phone call for us. But the light was dim and, as far as I could tell, Charlotte was right. There was no one there. We refilled our wineglasses again as daylight faded faster. I slapped a mosquito off my arm, and Charlotte lit a citronella candle. An animal skittered through the woods below us. I crouched forward with my teeth clenched.
“What if Travis killed the counselor at that camp?” Jenna’s face flickered in the candlelight.
A laugh escaped my mouth. “I love a good conspiracy theory, but that’s a big leap, Jenna.”
Kaitlyn shook her head. “The article said she died under suspicious circumstances. It was probably a boating accident or an arrow that strayed from the archery field.”
“Maybe she drowned,” Sam said, staring toward the lake.
Jenna raised her finger in the air. “Or the zip line got her.”
I smiled at Jenna’s joke again, then peered toward the blackened water and the wall of forest that blended into the night sky. We were trapped in this remote location without a car or our phones. It was a view toward the end of the earth.
I thought of the shed near Travis’s house with the KEEP OUT! sign and giant padlock, assuming it housed a collection of guns. And what were the odds that Charlotte’s car would have two flat tires? I’d gotten a few flat tires over the years, but never two at the same time. The guy who owned this cabin was a threat. Our lousy luck didn’t feel like a mere coincidence.
I straightened in my chair. “I don’t know. Jenna might be onto something. Wasn’t the camp aimed at helping at-risk youth? Maybe the counselor who died wasn’t white. Or maybe she was helping kids from different ethnicities and religions. I’m sure the neighborhood hate group wasn’t cool with that.”
“People like Travis will use any excuse to kill. History repeats itself,” Sam said in a quiet voice.
Jenna scowled toward the woods. “Don’t worry, Sam. We’re going to get out of this hellhole tomorrow.”
“I know.” Sam lifted her chin. “I’d feel so much better if I could call Thomas. Then he could contact the police and have them send someone out to us.”
“We’d all feel better if that happened.” Charlotte stared at her nearly empty wineglass. “But no one should wander off in the dark. It’s not safe.”
Kaitlyn stretched her arms over her head and yawned, causing a chain reaction of yawns around the circle. “Maybe it’s time to call it a night.”
Sam clutched her phone. “Yeah. The sooner we go to sleep, the sooner morning will get here.”
A mattress spring creaked from across the room and my eyes popped open. It took a second to remember where I was and why the air smelled different than my bedroom at home—not of sandalwood candles and cotton linens, but of antique furniture and flea-bitten blankets. The shadowy outline of Charlotte’s body rolled to the side, followed by deep breathing. My bladder strained with pressure. Once again, I’d had one too many glasses of wine. I blinked against the darkness, letting my eyes adjust to the light. Now that the thought of going to the bathroom had entered my brain, I couldn’t erase it. I inhaled a breath and slid back the sheet, carefully moving my feet to the side of the bed so as not to make any noise. I pressed my toes into the wooden floor and stood up, feeling dizzy for a moment. When my head rush passed, I tiptoed across the room and gripped the door handle, turning slowly and slipping out to the hallway.
My feet skittered toward the bathroom at the end of the hall as I told myself to ignore the elongated shadows and darkened hiding places. A faint nightlight glowed from beyond the open bathroom door. I locked myself inside the tiny room. A minute later, feeling relieved, I stumbled back toward the bedroom.
As I passed the top step of the stairway, a muffled cough sounded from downstairs. Someone was awake. I froze, craning my neck toward the noise and noticing a sliver of light piercing onto the bottom step. The kitchen light was on.
I crept down the stairs, curious to see who was hanging out in the kitchen in the middle of the night. Not wanting to scare anyone, I let my feet land heavier as I approached. Jenna sat at the round table. Her head snapped up as I stepped into the doorway. Kaitlyn’s old photo album lay open in front of her, along with a cloudy glass of water.
“Hey.” I stepped toward her. “Can’t sleep either?”
“Nope.” Jenna’s bloodshot eyes followed my gaze to the photos. The book was opened to a snapshot of her and Pete back when they were still a happy couple.
I pulled out a chair and sat down, ignoring the way my skin turned cold. “It seems like so long ago, doesn’t it?”
Jenna flattened her lips. “In some ways, yeah. In other ways, it feels like yesterday.”
“I guess that’s true.” While I’d completely forgotten some people’s names and faces, and much of what I’d learned in my classes, I vividly remembered other things. The emotions had stayed with me. I’d never felt more excited or alive than when I’d been a twenty-year-old away at college with a future full of hope and possibilities lying ahead of me. I could recall how empathetic friends had lightened my worries. I could feel the stress of final exams tightening my chest and the thrilling euphoria of young love. And, as much as I tried to forget, I remembered every moment leading up to the car accident. The trauma that followed could still suffocate me.
Jenna looked away from the photo album and rubbed her red-rimmed eyes. I dug my fingernails into the table, deciding it was better not to relive that horrible night.
“Do you ever hear anything from Pete?” I asked.
She closed the book and frowned. “No. Pete never looked back, and neither did I.”
“He was an idiot.” I realized my mouth was dry. I stood and walked to the cupboard, where I found a glass and filled it with water from the sink. A gust of wind blew outside, causing a branch to scrape against the window above the sink. I sipped the lukewarm water. “This place gives me the creeps.”
“Yeah. There’s a reason no one’s sleeping.”
I looked toward the darkened living room. “Is someone else awake?”
“I don’t know. Probably. Charlotte was in here eating a slice of pizza when I came down. I think I accidentally scared the crap out of her. And then Sam came down to get some water. I wouldn’t be surprised if everyone slept with one eye open tonight.”
I envisioned the repulsive man who lived a stone’s throw away from the remote cabin, the man who’d shot a squirrel from a tree for no other reason but to watch it die. The camp across the lake sat empty because a counselor had died under “suspicious circumstances.” I tightened my jaw. I didn’t know if Travis was responsible for the counselor’s death, but the theory wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. We needed to leave this place as soon as possible.
Chapter Thirteen
The coffee tasted even worse than it did yesterday. Last night’s sleep had been spotty, at best, but we’d survived the restless night and now sipped tentatively from our mugs, wrinkling our noses with each bitter gulp. Low-hanging clouds dimmed the morning light and added to the subdued atmosphere on the deck. I yawned and squeezed my eyelids closed.
“Okay, so here’s the plan,” Jenna said between yawns. “Charlotte can head back to Travis’s house and ask to use his phone.”
My fingers tightened around the mug at the thought of Charlotte showing up unannounced at Travis’s doorstep. “She shouldn’t go alone.”
Kaitlyn frowned. “Yeah. Travis is a creep.”
Charlotte flicked her hand in the air. “It’s okay. I know how to deal with people like him. I’ll just keep
my head down.”
Something hardened in Sam’s dark eyes. “I can go with you.”
“That’s a horrible idea.”
“I’ll go with you then,” I said, feeling an overwhelming need to help Charlotte, despite the pounding in my chest.
Charlotte tipped her head back. “Thanks, but I was thinking it might be better if we keep it low-key. We don’t want to alarm him or make him think that we need his help. I’ll tell Travis I need to call my husband—a family emergency or something. Then I’ll call roadside assistance as soon as he leaves the room.”
“What if he doesn’t leave the room?”
“I don’t know. I’ll ask him for some privacy.”
I thought about Charlotte’s plan. The thought of Travis wandering over to our cabin again terrified me. “Yeah. Maybe you’re right. We don’t want to give him any reason to come back here.”
“I’ll be back in twenty minutes. Twenty-five minutes, tops. You guys can stay here and enjoy your coffee.”
Jenna lifted her mug and made a face. “I don’t see that happening.”
Charlotte smiled. “Travis seems like one of those people whose bark is worse than his bite.”
Kaitlyn fiddled with her necklace. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. Besides, if I’m not back in thirty minutes, you know where I am. Don’t forget to bring a kitchen knife with you.” Charlotte winked.
“Will do,” I said.
Sam rubbed her forehead and sighed. “How in the world did we end up here?”
“I don’t know,” Charlotte said, “but we’re never coming back.”
Jenna cleared her throat. “Okay. So, Charlotte, when you get to the house, you’ll call Megan’s roadside assistance people and maybe also call Reed to let him know what’s going on.”
Charlotte nodded and I flopped back in my chair. Hopefully, we were only hours from getting the tires fixed and sipping fruity martinis in a hotel bar. A few geese honked in the distance and I gazed out toward the lake. The water had lost yesterday’s brilliant blue sparkle and now looked more like an enormous, murky puddle.
“I can’t wait to get to a real hotel,” Sam said, mirroring my thoughts.
“Me too.” Kaitlyn fluttered her pretty eyelashes and twisted her hair into a messy bun. “I need to talk to Derek. And the kids.”
I noticed Jenna’s frown. “How’s your ankle feeling, Jenna?”
She bent over and rubbed it. “It still hurts like a mother. I need to take more ibuprofen.”
It was just after 8 a.m. I complained about my sore muscles from yesterday’s hike. The aches resulting from such an easy walk were embarrassing, considering I’d completed two marathons in the last three years. I’d stopped running a year ago, telling myself my priorities had shifted toward my kids and my counseling practice. In truth, between work, the kids, and sneaking around at odd hours to meet the second man in my life, there hadn’t been much time for running. My leg muscles had atrophied from lack of use. Charlotte offered physical therapy advice, recommending some exercises to stretch out the soreness and others to rebuild my strength. Kaitlyn mentioned a Pilates class she attended every Wednesday morning. Jenna took over the conversation, telling us about a co-worker who was training for a triathlon. All the while, Sam sat without speaking, clutching her forgotten coffee and glancing toward the woods.
We carried our mugs of sludge back inside and prepared to activate our escape plan. I dug through my suitcase, selecting ankle jeans, sandals, and a fitted black tank top as I imagined a quick tire change, an hour-and-a-half drive to Wausau where we’d eat lunch in a homey restaurant, followed by an afternoon of browsing quaint shops.
I met the others downstairs. Sam rested her elbow on the windowsill, wearing jeans and a rose-colored shirt with delicate lace detailing around the neckline. Her hair was damp from the shower and her makeup freshly applied. Not surprisingly, she was even more eager to leave than me.
“We’ll be out of here soon,” I said.
She rubbed her forehead. “Thank God.”
Charlotte stood next to her with her hair tied back in a braid and her face freshly washed. She appeared much younger without any makeup. I was suddenly nervous for her as I handed her my roadside assistance card.
She smoothed down her shirt and glanced toward the door. “Remember, if I’m not back in thirty minutes, send out a search party.”
“We’ll be ready.”
Jenna smirked, nodding toward Charlotte. “It should be easy to find you in that shirt.”
Charlotte glanced down at her orange-and-white striped T-shirt, then looked up and smiled. “At least no hunters will get me.”
We followed her bright shirt out to the porch and watched as she trekked along the trail, disappearing over the hill and into the woods. My heart raced inside my chest. I closed my eyes, willing everything to go smoothly. I found a seat in the same chair where I’d been sitting earlier, the others filling in around me. The conversation returned to how desperate we were to leave the cabin. We could still salvage the weekend in a new location. The summer tourist season was over, and we imagined it would be easy to locate a couple of vacant hotel rooms or to secure lodging at a bed and breakfast. Barely twenty minutes had passed when footsteps sounded on the path. I looked up to find Charlotte plodding toward us with a blank expression on her face. I released a breath, relieved to see her unharmed.
She shook her head. “He wasn’t home.”
Sam tilted her head back.
“What?” Kaitlyn said. “Was his truck there?”
Charlotte approached the porch, breathing heavily. “No. It was gone. I knocked on the front door, too, but no one answered.”
“Just our luck,” Jenna said.
“I’ll go back in an hour and check again. Maybe he had to run into town.”
Jenna rolled her eyes. “For what? Live bait?”
Frustration glinted in Sam’s dark eyes. I shifted in my seat as Sam glared at her phone, her lower lip quivering.
I leaned toward Charlotte. “Not to be a pain, but maybe one of us should go and check for Travis every thirty minutes. We’re all anxious to get out of here.”
Guilt washed through Charlotte’s eyes. She laced her fingers together and glanced toward the path. “Yeah. Okay. I can do it. I feel like I caused this mess. I’ll get us out of it. I promise.”
I reached over and squeezed Charlotte’s hand, letting her know I didn’t blame her for any of this.
“Hey, I saw some board games in the living room,” Kaitlyn said as she stood. “I’ll bring a few out to help pass the time.”
Jenna groaned. “You’re such a mom.”
A minute later, Kaitlyn returned with an armful of boxes, including Sorry!, Scattergories, checkers, and Uno. I usually found board games tiresome, but I was thankful for the distraction.
We settled on Scattergories, playing a few rounds and laughing once in a while. Charlotte checked her watch and set off on her mission again. She returned about twenty minutes later with a grim look on her face. We switched to Uno. Kaitlyn said the game reminded her of her kids. She was missing them, just like I was missing Wyatt and Marnie. Uno was one of their favorites. Sam opted to sit out, the light in her eyes dimming as she stared toward the lake. Soon, another thirty minutes had passed. Charlotte left and returned, shaking her head.
Sam paced across the porch and huffed. “Listen, guys, I’m not going to wait around all day for this guy to get back from his KKK rally, or wherever he went.”
My shoulders tightened with the same anxiety that gripped Sam’s face.
“He’s gotta be back soon,” Kaitlyn said.
“We don’t know that. Charlotte can keep going back and checking, but I can’t just sit here. I’m going to wander down by the lake and see if I can catch a signal.”
“I’ll come with you,” I said.
Sam waved me away. “You don’t have to. You’ll hear me scream if I see bars on my phone.”
Jenna yawned and pus
hed her chair back. “If you guys don’t mind, I’m going to head inside and take a nap. I was awake most of the night.”
My eyelids were heavy, and I also couldn’t stop yawning due to my checkered sleep the night before. After I’d returned from my chat with Jenna in the kitchen, the musty pillow and screeches of nocturnal animals had woken me up throughout the night. “I might rest for a while, too,” I said.
Kaitlyn nodded. “I’ll stay here and play checkers with Charlotte until she has to leave again. Or maybe I’ll take a turn hiking over there.”
We went our separate ways. Jenna plopped on the couch and I headed up the stairs to my bedroom. I wasn’t used to spending so much time surrounded by other women, and the thought of a few minutes alone was a welcome relief.
An hour later, I roused myself from the twin bed, rubbing the haze from my eyes. I’d passed out for a few minutes, but the cry of a bird pierced my sleep. The sandals I’d been wearing earlier were too tight, so I pulled on socks and sneakers instead. I skipped down the stairs, eager to learn about any progress made by Charlotte or Sam. Jenna was lying where I’d left her on the living room couch, her eyes closed and breath heavy. I tiptoed past her to join the others outside.
“Hey,” I said, approaching their checkers game.
Kaitlyn lifted her eyes from the board. “Hi. There’s an intense championship game happening here.”
“Is Travis back yet?”
Charlotte flattened her lips. “No. I got back about twenty minutes ago. He still wasn’t home. I’ll go check again as soon as we’re finished.”
“Where’s Sam?” I asked.
“She was here a few minutes ago. She couldn’t find any reception.”
I looked over my shoulder. “Where is she now?”
Kaitlyn followed my gaze. “She’s probably taking a nap. I don’t think any of us slept last night.”
“I was going to tell Sam I’d walk back to the camp with her to find a phone. I’m pretty sure there was one in the office.” I conjured up a vision of the desk I’d glimpsed through the dirty window and wished I’d paid closer attention.
