The Cabin (5 page)

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Authors: Natasha Preston

BOOK: The Cabin
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“We slept through the whole thing,” I said. Hearing it aloud made it even more unbelievable. “Do you think they…shouted…for us?”

“Don't,” Kyle said, wrapping his arm around me. I fell against his side, giving in to my body's need to shut down. He stroked my hair and I was done for. I burst into tears, shamelessly gripping his shirt.

Kyle stroked my hair and sniffled. We held each other tight. “OK. We're OK,” he repeated in my ear over and over. But it wasn't OK and neither were we.

I pulled back and offered him the feeblest smile. “I've got you too,” I whispered. He was being strong, but he was a sensitive soul and needed support just as much as the rest of us.

We sat in silence while the police did whatever it was they had to do. The door to the kitchen was closed, so we could no longer see down the hall, and we were told not to go back there. The room was a crime scene now. Upstairs was off limits too, so we couldn't get our things. The police didn't want us going anywhere. Were they looking for something in our stuff?

“I want to go home,” Megan whispered, clenching her fists over and over and shaking her head. “I want to go home. I
need
to leave this cabin.”

So did I, but we weren't allowed to. “Why didn't we hear anything?” I repeated. Drunk or not, surely we would have heard someone break in and stab two of our friends. “Do any of you remember?” No one answered, too caught up in their own thoughts. I racked my brain but I barely remembered anything after Josh and Aaron's argument—the one where Aaron told Josh he would kill him if he mentioned Tilly's name again. I already knew I wasn't going to tell the police that. He didn't mean it, but the police wouldn't take it like that.

Blake stood up and everyone stared at him. The burly police officer, our guard, turned his body to Blake, letting him know he was still watching. “We couldn't have been
that
drunk. None of us drank enough to be that out of it during a bloody murder. It's not possible,” he said.

“Well, no one heard anything!” Kyle snapped.

Blake spun around. “I'm aware of that,
Kyle
. What I don't get is why. Or how.”

The kitchen door opened and the short-haired detective in the expensive suit raised his eyebrows. He walked into the room, carrying himself as if he owned the place. “We need to have a little chat.”

One by one, we all shared a quick glance.

He walked to the fireplace and stood in front of it. He had our attention. Clicking his tongue, he said, “I'll get the pleasantries out of the way first. I'm Detective Inspector Wright. Now, the door. You had to unlock it for us this morning, correct?”

“Yes,” Aaron replied, frowning.

Wright clicked his tongue again. “Hmm. The door in the kitchen is locked too. When was it locked?”

“Last night,” I said, remembering. “Courtney locked it before we started drinking. Why?”

“Thank you. Mr. Harper,” Wright said, turning his attention directly to Blake. “The only doors into the house are that one,” he said, nodding to the front door, “and the kitchen, correct?”

“Yeah,” Blake replied.

“There is no evidence of forced entry, and since both doors were locked, either the murderer had a key or we're left with another possibility.”

I frowned. “What's that?”

“One or more of you stabbed your friends to death.” He swung his arms behind his back. “So…who wants to confess?”

My heart stopped, and my mouth fell open.

Chapter Five

“No,” Megan said, shaking her head at the bomb Wright had just dropped.

I couldn't believe it and I
wouldn't
. None of my friends were murderers. We all had our issues with Josh, sure, but none of us wanted him to die. And Courtney—she was sweet, funny, and loyal. She was the best friend anyone could ask for. No one hated her. This was a random attack. It had to be. It had to have been someone else.

“No. You need to keep looking. There must be some way the attacker got in,” I said, shaking my head. “Blake, you know this place better than anyone—”

Blake shook his head and took a deep breath. His eyes were wide, scared. “They've checked the doors, Mackenzie. There is no other way in from the outside.”

“That can't be true!” I insisted and turned to the hostile-looking officers. “The windows!”

“Are all locked and cannot be accessed from the outside,” Wright replied. “No one could get into the property without breaking in, and there are no signs of that being the case.”


No
,” I repeated. “Please keep looking.”

“The police don't need to keep looking, Mackenzie. We know who did it,” Aaron said and stared at Blake.

“Don't be an arsehole, Aaron,” I said. Josh was Blake's brother. He had more to lose than any of us. It couldn't have been him.

Kyle stepped next to Aaron, backing him up. “Who was it then, Kenz? Come on. You know all of us. Was it one of your friends or the creepy stranger?”

Blake folded his arms over his chest, saying nothing. Aaron had thrown a huge accusation at him, and if it were me, I'd be defending myself and setting everyone straight.

“The police come up with one theory, and you start turning on each other?” I threw my hands up in exasperation. I thought I knew my friends better than that. I thought our friendship was stronger than that. “Will you all please stop pointing fingers at each other so we can figure out what happened to Josh and Courtney? The way you're all acting is disgusting. We need to stick together, not rip each other apart.”

“She's right,” Megan said. “I don't believe any of you could do this.”

I felt Blake's eyes burning into the side of my head, but I didn't meet his gaze. I refused to believe I'd slept beside a murderer. I wasn't intimate with a killer. I couldn't have been.

Wright clicked his tongue. “As interesting as all this is, I need you to get into the squad cars now.” He looked at each of us when he spoke. I felt naked under his intense glare. It was clear he thought one of us did it. “We're taking a trip to the station, so we can ask you some questions and get a formal statement,” he said, pursing his lips, “and then my colleagues are going to search every inch of this house—and your homes.” He nodded toward the front door and walked out.

• • •

I sat in a small interview room, biting my lip. One of the female police officers had brought me a change of clothes, so I was wearing gray sweats and a plain white T-shirt. My clothes had to be sent off for examination. Even though I'd done nothing wrong and was fully cooperating, I still felt like a criminal.

DI Wright and a pretty female officer he'd introduced as DI Lancer sat opposite me. I refused to have my parents or anyone else with me because it would seem like I had something to hide.

Wright tilted his head. “Tell me again, Mackenzie, what happened last night?”

Leaning forward, I leaned my arms on the cold table. “I don't know. We were all drinking. God, we drank a lot. The last thing I remember is Blake waking me up from the sofa and…” I was going to have to admit that we'd slept together. I wasn't sure why it was embarrassing—it just was. I licked my dry lips. “We went upstairs. In the morning, we woke up and went down to make breakfast. That's when we found…what we found.”

“Where was everyone else when you and Blake went upstairs?”

“Megan went up to a bedroom first. Aaron and Kyle crashed on the living room floor. Josh and Courtney must've gone to his room while I was asleep on the couch. They weren't in the living room when Blake and I went upstairs. I assume Aaron and Kyle didn't go find bedrooms because they didn't want to get in an another argument with Josh.”

“Argument?”

“Um. Yeah. Megan and Josh had a disagreement about where to sleep and Blake told her to go up. Aaron stood up to Josh too.”

“They physically fought?”

“No, of course not. It was just verbal.”

“What was the argument about?” he pressed.

“Megan and Josh's?”

The DI blinked as if I had asked a stupid question. There were two arguments. How was I supposed to know which one he was asking about?

“Yes, the argument between Megan and Joshua.”

“Well, Courtney wanted everyone to sleep downstairs, but Megan wanted a bed. Josh told Megan that it was his house and she had to sleep where he said. Blake stepped in and told her to go upstairs to bed. It was nothing really.”

“What was Joshua's argument with Aaron over?”

I bit my lip and looked at the recorder on the table beside Wright. “At first, Aaron was just sticking up for Megan, but then Josh said something about Aaron dumping Tilly before the accident.” I frowned, struggling to remember clearly. Was that it? “I think. He spits that out occasionally. I can't remember exactly what they said, but they shouted, and then Courtney told them to stop.”

“And then?”

“And then we went back to drinking.”

“Why did Courtney want everyone downstairs?” he asked.

I shrugged. “She said we should all drink until we dropped. I don't think she really cared if anyone wanted to go to bed though.”

“But Josh did?”

“Josh is Josh.”
Was
Josh.

Wright's bushy eyebrows pulled together. “What does that mean exactly? What was Josh like?”

“He didn't really care about anyone other than himself. He liked to be the big man, and we were all supposed to be in debt to him for organizing get-togethers, like this trip.” I dropped my eyes to the table. “And the theme park weekend.”

“Is this the trip which resulted in a car accident?” he asked. “Two people died that day, Tilly Moss and Giana Beaucoup, is that correct?”

“Yes,” I whispered. “How do you know that?” Tilly and Gigi had been sitting in the back of the minivan when we were hit by a truck.

“It's a small town, Mackenzie.” I knew that. No matter what happened and where it happened, everyone in town knew your business. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Joshua organized the trip that led to two of your friends' deaths.”

“I know where you're going with this. No one blames Josh for what happened. It was an accident.” We only blamed him for how he treated us and what he said after.

“How can you be so sure your friends feel the same way?”

I gritted my teeth. “Not forgiving someone is one thing. Murder is another. None of my friends are capable of that.”

He sighed. “So that brings us back to you.”

Did the detective think I was guilty?
My palms began to sweat. “No. I would never hurt anyone. I didn't do it. I swear.”

“Let's talk about your relationship with Courtney Young for a minute. You'd been friends for how long?”

I frowned at his use of the past tense. “About eight years. We met when we were eleven.” We sat next to each other at school and became insta-friends. We shared a love of the
Twilight
books, trashy teen romance films, and boys. I'd give anything to go back to our preteen years.

“And in that time, have you had any fallings-out?”

“A few, I guess. We never argued for long though. I think the longest we've ever gone without talking was two or three days.” It would be longer now. I pressed my fingernails into the palms of my hands trying to offset the pain of losing her, which tore through my chest. I would never hear Court laugh or sing like a cat being strangled again. Bless her, she tried so hard to be the next Britney, but it was never going to happen.

He wrote something down and I thought he was going to ask some follow-up questions, but he changed direction. “How long had Josh and Courtney been together?”

I shrugged. “Around a year and a half, I think.”

“You don't seem too thrilled by your friend's relationship with Joshua. Why is that?”

“Like I said before, Josh is—
was
—a selfish person. He brought Court down. She was so much more outgoing and confident before him. After they got together, she didn't have her own voice or opinion. She just backed up whatever he said. She deserved better.”

His eyebrows arched.

“That doesn't mean I wanted anything bad to happen to him.” Not
that
bad, anyway.

“What happened after Tilly's and Giana's deaths? From what I can gather, that's when the feud began.”

“It wasn't a feud. Josh said some things that were insensitive.”

“Like what?”

“He said at least it wasn't him and Courtney.”

“Who died in the crash?”

I nodded. “Yes. I was glad the rest of us were OK, but I don't know how he could place anyone else's life below his own. Like they were expendable. He said the accident was Gigi's fault anyway, because she got too drunk to drive so Court had to. Apparently, that meant she deserved to die.”

“And you hated him for it.”

I played with the hem of my T-shirt. I didn't hurt anyone, but Detective Wright was constantly leading me there, wanting me to admit to something I hadn't done. I wanted to tell the truth, but I was scared. “Hate is a very strong word. I didn't ever want anything bad to happen to him, but I wished he would break up with Courtney and get out of our lives.”

“How badly did you want him out of your life?” the detective pressed.

“I didn't kill him!” Why wasn't he listening to me? I felt sick.

Wright's mouth twitched. His breath blew across my face. It smelled of stale tobacco mixed with mint. “I'm not saying you killed Josh, but do you know who did?”

“No. I swear I don't. My friends aren't violent though, I know that much.”

“Hmm,” he murmured. “Did you each have a bedroom to yourself?”

“No. Megan and I were sharing; the others had a room each.”
But I stayed in Blake's
, I left out.

“And you unpacked as soon as you arrived?”

“I did.”

“Everyone else?”

I don't know. I'm not their mum!
“I'm not sure. Megan didn't. She never does.”

“Hmm.” He clicked his tongue. What did that
hmm
mean? “Who had a key to either or both of the doors?”

“Josh.”

“Just him?”

“I don't know. Blake might have one, it being his house too.”

I wanted to ask why he was asking, but something stopped me. Wright was intimidating. He looked like a powerful man. He was tall, muscular, and had a take-no-shit attitude. He was probably a bit in love with himself. He squinted at me as if he wanted me to believe he already knew who the killer was and was just waiting for us to crack.

He tilted his head. “You stayed with Blake all night?”

“Yes.”

“He was still there when you woke?”

“Yes. I woke first.”

He nodded. “What did you have to eat while you were at the cabin? Did you cook?”

The sudden change in direction had me concerned. I'd never been interviewed by the police before. “We all cooked enchiladas.”

He stared at me, keeping his eyes focused on pulling truths from mine. “You all cooked?”

“We all helped, yeah.”

Now why was that important?

He gave another short nod. “And the drinks. Let me guess, you all got each other drinks too?”

“Yes,” I replied slowly. There was something I was missing, but I had no idea what. I closed my eyes and rubbed my temple. I didn't think like a bloody detective!

“So you all drank, you fell asleep, and when you woke, Joshua and Courtney were—”

“Yes,” I replied before he could say
dead on the kitchen floor
. We all knew the outcome by now.

“Not a peep in the night, huh?”

“No.”

“Joshua and Courtney were stabbed dozens of times and you didn't hear anything…”

I closed my eyes and took a breath as I was about to throw up. “No, I didn't hear anything,” I said, then opened my eyes.

Please believe me.

He arched his bushy caterpillar eyebrow. “I think that's it for now. You're free to go back to the waiting room with the others.”

Already?
That hadn't seemed to take as long as I thought it would. He looked at me and half smiled.
Oh, he's not done with me at all.
I stood up and walked out of the room, anxious to get back to my friends. As I left, I kept my head held high and walked with confidence, trying to show him I wasn't intimidated. I probably walked guiltily.

Through the glass panel in the door, I could see everyone already out there.

“You OK?” Blake asked, pulling the door open for me from the inside, as I was about to push it.

I shook my head and wrapped my arms around myself. “Not really.” Megan sat on the chair, curled up in a ball; Kyle's arm was around her shoulders, rocking her like a child. I smiled at Blake in thanks and knelt down in front of my friend. “Megan?”

Her body trembled.

“She hasn't said anything since she came out of being questioned,” Kyle said. “How'd it go?”

“He thinks it was one of us,” I replied. Blake had moved to the other side of the room. He stood against the wall, looking out of the window, acting as if he were alone.

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