“Don’t you worry. We have plenty of time.” He reached out to tug at the towel secured at her breasts. “Now I’m gonna go find our little lost babe in the woods. Maybe you could mix up a little of your special tea and Percodan combo to relax her. How’s that sound?”
Sounds like a bad idea, she thought. “Sounds like a plan” was what she said. She’d learned there was no point arguing with him when his mind was made up, just as she was learning that if she wanted to keep him, she’d have to get used to the idea of other women. On the plus side, she reminded herself
as he stepped into the early morning fog, once he was through with them, she’d get to cut them into hundreds of little pieces. “Kenny,” she called as he was about to disappear.
He stopped, turned back, his face partially obscured.
“Be careful.”
“I will. Oh,” he said, tapping the badge on his chest. “Remember, the name’s Henry now.”
“WHAT DO YOU think is taking them so long?” Val asked anxiously. She was pacing back and forth in front of a group of picnic tables located halfway between the site of last night’s bonfire and their tents. Melissa and James sat on one side of the rickety old table, Gary, Hayden, and Jennifer on the other.
“Relax, Val,” Melissa said. “It’s been less than an hour.”
“I thought they’d be here already.”
“I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”
“So what’s taking them so long?”
The question was met with a communal shrug and varying looks of dismay.
“Where the hell are they?” Val asked after another fifteen minutes had passed.
“They’re probably just getting all their ducks in a row,” James offered.
“What ducks? Don’t they need to talk to us before they can start arranging any dumb ducks?”
“I’m sure they’re on their way,” Melissa offered.
“They’ve probably issued the APB on Tyler’s car by now,” Jennifer said. “Maybe they’re waiting to see if anything turns up.”
“And what if nothing does?” Val asked. “What if Brianne and Tyler have already left the area?”
“Where would they go?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they went back to Brooklyn.”
“I can’t imagine they’d drive all the way back to Brooklyn,” James said. “Not in that storm.”
“Then where is she? Why hasn’t she come back here?” Val was trying—and failing—not to hear the sound of tires screeching as she pictured Tyler’s black Honda Civic sliding out of control on the wet highway and slamming into a tree. She was trying—and failing—not to see Brianne’s mangled body in the car’s smoldering wreckage. “Do you think maybe she ran away?” she asked almost hopefully, the question managing to temporarily dislodge the horrifying sound-and-light show in her brain. “I mean, she was embarrassed, she was angry, and after what happened with Hayden, she was probably too afraid to come back here. You’re sure she didn’t say anything to you?” Val asked Gary’s son, knowing she’d already asked this question at least half a dozen times already. “Give you any clue where they might be headed?”
Hayden shook his head as Val sank down on the bench between Melissa and James.
“Look. Why don’t I go back to the office and try your house?” Jennifer volunteered, standing up as Val was sitting down. “In case she’s there …”
“That would be great,” Val said. “The number is …”
“I know the number.”
Val nodded, said nothing.
“And while I’m there, I’ll try getting in touch with Henry again. Maybe he knows what’s keeping everyone.”
“Well,” James whispered as Jennifer disappeared from sight. “Looks as if the Slut is proving to be quite useful.”
Val spun sharply toward him. “Don’t call her that,” she said.
* * *
JENNIFER WAS JUST about to hang up the old rotary black phone when she heard Brianne’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Hi,” Brianne said sweetly.
“Brianne. My God, we’ve been worried sick …”
“This is Brianne,” the voice continued, as if Jennifer hadn’t spoken. “I can’t take your message at the moment, but if you’d leave your name and number …”
“Damn it.” Jennifer slammed the receiver back inside its carriage.
“Careful with that,” Carolyn Murray warned from behind the reception counter. Then, softening slightly, “Still no luck?”
“If she’s home, she’s not picking up.”
“Teenagers,” Carolyn said, as if that explained everything. “I’m sure she’s fine. You’ll see. You’ll all have a good laugh about this later.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” Jennifer picked up the phone again, dialed Henry’s number. “Just this one last call,” she told Carolyn. “To find out what’s keeping everybody.” The phone rang once, twice, before being picked up in the middle of its third ring.
“Henry Voight,” the voice said instead of hello.
“Henry, it’s Jennifer. I’m really sorry to bother you again …”
“Did Brianne come back?” he interrupted.
“No. And the rangers still aren’t here.”
There was a slight pause before the ranger spoke again. “Look, Jennifer. I know this is hard, but you need to tell everyone to be patient and sit tight. You have to understand that a girl who sneaks off with her boyfriend in the middle of the night isn’t exactly the rangers’ top priority. The sergeant has assured me he’ll have someone out to see you by noon.”
“Noon?”
“In the meantime, they’re on the lookout for Tyler’s car, and I’m doing a foot search of the area.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound unappreciative, I really don’t. It’s just that everyone is so worried …”
“I understand completely.”
Which was when Jennifer heard a scream shoot through the phone wires, like fire through oil. The scream was followed immediately by another, and then another, each one building on the last, each one more horrifying than the one before. “Dear God, what is that? Is that Brianne?”
Then suddenly, the screaming stopped.
Jennifer stared at the receiver, knowing the line had gone dead in her hands.
B
RIANNE WAS RUNNING AROUND in hapless circles, screaming into the brittle, early morning air. Her screams bounced between the trees, ricocheting off the sprawling sides of the mountain, before being swallowed by the indifferent mist. “No, no,” she continued, sobbing now. “This isn’t happening. It can’t be happening.” She grabbed on to the nearest branch, feeling it break off in her hands, and she lost her balance, lurching forward and closing her eyes as she stumbled toward the ground. “No, please. I’m still asleep,” she moaned as her bare knees scraped against the jagged surface of a rock, the sharp stone cutting into her flesh like a knife through butter. “This is just a bad dream. I’m still asleep. I’m still asleep.” Please, she begged silently, her eyes remaining tightly closed
as she struggled back to her feet. Please let me be dreaming. Please don’t let this be real.
Except it
was
real. She knew that. She’d known it the minute the cold sun had awakened her almost two hours earlier, as rudely as if someone were shining a flashlight directly into her eyes. She’d sat up abruptly, watching the sun instantly retreat behind some clouds, as if on purpose, only to reappear seconds later, only to disappear again, as if engaging in a sadistic game of peekaboo. Catch me if you can, it seemed to taunt her, sneaking in and out of her line of vision, shining a spotlight on her surroundings one minute, blinding her the next.
Damn that stupid Tyler Currington, she’d thought in that moment, peering through the trees and hoping to see him vaulting toward her, a rescue team following immediately behind. Where the hell was he? Hadn’t he promised he’d be right back? Hadn’t he told her the cottage he’d seen was only a mile away, and that he’d break into it if he had to, get help, and come back for her?
So where was he, damn it? It had been hours since he’d left. Had the idiot gotten lost again? Had he turned right instead of left, then left instead of right, becoming increasingly disoriented as he groped his way through the dark, misplaced pride his only guide? Had he finally given in to the hopelessness of his situation and his own overwhelming fatigue and lain down, falling asleep in a clump of leaves, as she had? Was he only now just waking up, realizing he was more lost than ever, and trying to determine the best way back to her?
Or had he managed to find the cottage, only to discover nobody home and the phone disconnected? Faced with the choice of being either noble or comfortable, of venturing back into the unfriendly woods or waiting till morning, had he,
quite understandably, Brianne was loath to admit, given in to the temptation of a warm and empty bed? Was he even now curled up peacefully on its bare mattress, inhaling its pleasant mustiness and dreaming of better weekends ahead? And would the owners of the cottage come home later in the day to find him snoring softly? Would he awaken to a chorus of “Who’s been sleeping in my bed?”
A persistent rumbling in her stomach and an even more persistent swarm of mosquitoes finally convinced her it was time to get up and get moving on her own. She couldn’t just sit here all day and hope Tyler would come back. The moron was probably long gone. He’d probably had the dumb luck to stumble upon the main road and hitch a ride back into the city, leaving her to fend for herself.
Her mother would never have left her, she thought, pushing herself gingerly to her feet, feeling her joints unfolding stiffly one at a time. Her mother would have carried her on her back, if necessary, even if her back were breaking, even if she had to carry her to the ends of the earth.
“Which is probably where I am,” Brianne said out loud, looking around, hearing the muscles in her neck groan as she glanced from side to side. Everything ached. Her left shoulder and arm were numb from lying on the hard ground, and both legs were cramped and wobbly. Her mother would kiss her assorted aches and pains and make them magically disappear.
She looked down at her feet. Having spent the last few hours with her bare feet encased in the earth for warmth, dried mud now covered her from her ankles to her toes, so that it appeared as if she were wearing short black boots. “I’m nothing if not fashionable,” she muttered, and laughed, relieved when she realized she was able to put some weight on her ankle, that Tyler had been right about one thing at least—it didn’t seem to be broken.
She started walking, the clouds that circled overhead following after her, growing increasingly heavy with the renewed threat of rain. “Well, at least I’ll have something to drink if nobody finds me soon,” she said, wondering if her mother was awake yet, if anyone had even realized she was gone. Good thing she’d drunk so many glasses of water last night, the water serving as a convenient excuse for all those trips to the bathroom before she’d snuck off to meet Tyler. “Oh, God,” she moaned, once more picturing Hayden lying unconscious at the side of the road, and praying he was all right. “I’m so sorry, Hayden. I never meant for that to happen. I’m so sorry.” Then, crying softly, “Please find me, Mommy. If you find me, I swear that from now on, I’ll be the best daughter ever. I’ll pick up after myself and I’ll keep my room neat. I’ll do my homework and return my library books on time. I won’t lie to you ever again, and I won’t go out with morons like Tyler Currington. And I won’t have sex again until after I’m married.” Well, maybe not that, she amended immediately. Surely even her mother wouldn’t expect her to go that far.
“Mommmmmy!” she yelled as loud as she could, stretching the word as if it were an elastic band, until she ran out of breath, her cry sending shock waves through the surrounding stillness. “Can you hear me? Please! Can anybody hear me?” She stopped and waited, listening for even a hint of acknowledgment. Surely there had to be other hikers in the area by now. Surely someone would hear her. “Mommmmmy!” she called again, realizing she hadn’t actually called her mother that in years, and how much she liked its reassuring sound. “Mommy,” she repeated softly, wishing she could disappear into the comforting softness of her mother’s arms.
Why was I so mean to her? she thought. Why did I give her such a hard time? The things I said to her! Comparing her
to Grandma, for God’s sake, when she’s nothing remotely like Grandma. What was that all about? And sucking up to Jennifer instead of being loyal to the woman who’s loved me unconditionally my entire life; ignoring her, defying her, embarrassing her, all but wishing she were dead.
Which was when the thought suddenly hit her that she might never see her mother again.
What if a bear gets me, or I starve to death? she thought, panicking. What if nobody ever finds me and I die out here, and my mother never knows how much I loved her? What if I never get to tell her? What if …?
What if … what if … what if …
“Help me!” Brianne screamed, collapsing to the ground in a torrent of tears. “Somebody, please help me!”
What was the point in going any farther when she had absolutely no idea where she was? Hadn’t she read somewhere—maybe even in one of her mother’s travel articles—that when you get lost, the best thing to do is to sit tight and wait for someone to find you? Because eventually someone
will
find me, she told herself. James would wake up and realize she wasn’t ensconced in the sleeping bag beside him. Hayden would return to the campsite and tell everyone what had happened, that she’d gone off with Tyler, leaving him unconscious by the side of the road. “I’m so sorry, Hayden,” she whispered again. They’d find stupid Tyler’s stupid car in that stupid ditch. They’d send out a search party. They’d start searching the woods.
Except they’d been searching the woods for David Gowan for days without any luck.
Although he’d probably just gone back to New York, Brianne decided in the next second, wondering if that was what everybody would assume about her. That she’d run off with Tyler, that they’d most likely hitched a ride back to New York
after his car got stuck in the ditch. And what then? Would they call the police or simply say “good riddance to bad rubbish”? Would they shake their heads in disgust and head back to Brooklyn without her? “Shit,” she said, making a silent promise she’d never swear again if only somebody would find her before the deer flies and mosquitoes succeeded in eating her alive. “Crap,” she settled for instead.