Chapter 17 Jason #2
The boat was simple. Two seats, a steering wheel, and an outboard motor at the back. The name Mary Lou decorated its stern in peeling paint. Some old-timer’s fishing boat, Jason guessed, parked here to avoid the more expensive docking fees at the marina to the east.
A light suddenly bobbed from inside the boat. At this distance, anyone else might have thought it was a will-o’-the-wisp, but Jason would recognize the petite figure it illuminated anywhere.
Tiffany shone her flashlight at the dashboard, peering at the dials and buttons. Thank God. He could hustle her safely back to the cabin. He just needed to persuade her to come with him.
He emerged from the trees. “Tiff.”
Tiffany shrieked in surprise. Next thing he knew, she’d whipped the paring knife out of her belt and was flashing it at him. “Get away from me!”
Wow. She’d taken his rejection much too seriously. Jason waited for his anger to flare, but it never came. He only felt bone-tired. The storm inside him had drained away. For now.
He approached, putting up his hands to show he was harmless. “Whoa! I’m not going to hurt you. I’m glad to see you, Tiff. I’ve been looking for you. What are you doing?”
Her mouth pinched like she was fighting an internal battle, and then she turned back to the dashboard, not looking at Jason. He was a little insulted she didn’t put the knife back into her belt.
“I’m trying to figure out how to start the boat. There should be cell service if we go out east to the cottages. Have you ever driven one of these?”
Dad loved only sports that were played on land, not water.
But Jason climbed into the boat beside Tiffany, hanging on to the back of a seat when the boat swayed beneath his sudden weight.
Tiffany’s knuckles whitened around the paring knife’s handle.
He kept his distance. Not knowing Russ Meachum’s whereabouts was bad enough.
He didn’t need another aggrieved person in the woods with a kitchen knife.
“No, but I know enough that you need a key.”
Tiffany pounded the dashboard with her fist. “Fuck! This is the worst.”
Her lower lip quivered. Jason recognized the sign of an imminent meltdown. He’d weathered many during his time with her. “Hey—” he started, reflexively reaching out to touch her arm.
The tiny blade in her hand went up. “I meant it when I said to stay away.”
Jason took a step back, nearly stepping on a blanket piled in the boat’s stern. “Okay, okay.” He shone his flashlight around the boat. Other than the blanket, there was a tackle box that wasn’t large enough to hold anything useful. “Damn it. No oars so we can’t paddle our way there.”
At second glance, he realized it wasn’t a blanket in the stern.
It seemed to be a pile of clothing, probably for cold mornings on the water.
He picked up the top layer, which unfolded into a thick, gray men’s hoodie.
Good. Tiffany had probably thought to seduce him in her bikini and cropped T-shirt, but he was more concerned she was cold in her scant clothes.
He’d seen her shiver earlier from the dampness.
She could put the hoodie on for the walk.
He held it up, and Tiffany’s eyes went so wide he could see the whites in the dim light. “What the fuck is that?” She pointed her flashlight at the object the hoodie had been hiding.
A white mask.
A plain white mask, sitting on top of a red buffalo plaid jacket. Goose bumps multiplied on the back of Jason’s neck and traveled down his arms. He quickly puddled the hoodie over the mask to avoid its accusing sightless gaze.
“What’s a Slasher costume doing out here?” Tiffany asked. She shut off the flashlight, leaving Jason in the dark, the white mask an afterimage on the inside of his eyelids like a bruise.
“Maybe the owner of the boat picked it up somewhere and meant to take it to the thrift shop when he got the chance. Tourists are always leaving them around.” He hoped he sounded convincing enough to keep Tiffany from freaking out. He was worried she’d run off again if she got too upset.
“Or maybe the owner of the boat put the mask on before diving into the water and nearly drowning me.”
Tiffany almost knocked Jason over as she barreled for the dock.
The boat rocked menacingly. Jason was about to reach out to steady her, but thought better of it.
She still held the knife. He clung to a seat back instead, resisting the urge to help her climb out of the boat, even though her limbs wobbled like a newborn colt’s.
“Tiff—”
She finally scrabbled onto the dock without dropping the knife. “I’m getting the fuck away from here.”
Jason carefully climbed out of the boat beside her. “I’m heading back to the cabin. For once can you please put aside your personal feelings and come with me? The others will be waiting. It’ll be safer if we stay together.”
Tiffany put her hands on her hips with the ferocity he’d once loved. “How’re we going to find our way back? We can’t stick to the shore in case the owner of the boat returns.”
Jason took the compass out of his pocket and showed her. She nodded resignedly. “Fine. Lead the way.”
He motioned in front of him. “After you.”
Tiffany’s laugh was high and sharp. Jason wondered if she’d lost her mind, or if Freddy’s weed had been laced with something stronger than cannabis. Especially when her next question took him completely off guard.
“What did you do with the axe?”
“Huh?”
“The axe. You were splitting wood back at the cabin. You were the last one to use it. I noticed it was gone from the tree stump.”
Jason shrugged. “I put it back in the toolshed and then locked it up.”
She eyed him skeptically. Jason blew out a long breath. He was so tired of her frustrating suspicions. “We should hurry. After you.” He motioned again down the length of the dock with his flashlight.
“No way. You walk in front of me.”
“What if Russ or somebody creeps up behind you?”
“Fine. We’ll walk side by side. And turn off that flashlight or else he’ll see us!”