Chapter 3
Three
Emma was glad Daniel drove her back to camp.
While he wasn’t the boy she counted on as a friend, he was the one she needed now.
His professional demeanor added a layer of calm to an extraordinary turn of events.
She could lean on him and trust him. Those two facts had always been true—even when she’d found it hard to do either in the years after Liz passed.
Any memories of her last years at high school became blurred with regret over her sister.
Emma avoided home to not have to face close encounters with people that had been her neighbors and morphed into strangers.
Daniel hadn’t done anything to deserve the way she shut him out of her life.
She’d needed space from loving faces recalling moments tinged with pity that she couldn’t connect to.
Retrograde amnesia was her official diagnosis, and the affliction might last the rest of her life.
She hated telling others and seeing their eyes glaze or roll, like she made it up thanks to an internet search. She wanted to remember.
With a shake, she studied the passing landscape, trying to make out anything in the dark night.
The decades away had softened her soul and stiffened her spine.
She trusted the path she was on, but she was glad for a second chance to right past wrongs.
Daniel matured into a solid, steady man.
Handsome, too. She couldn’t go down that road.
Pursuing a relationship long distance wasn’t in the cards and until she had her memories back entirely she wasn’t whole enough for romance.
She’d restrict her feelings to friendship and be glad for the time together, no matter how limited.
While she could start fresh with him, she wasn’t sure of the same in reverse. He’d want to discuss their past. She hated the judgement when she couldn’t share in the conversation and stared blankly ahead.
For the time being, she was relieved he’d be sticking around the camp.
She wasn’t sure she could explain what had happened or how the accident had occurred to the other campers.
Campers. She shook her head, dislodging the wrong definition.
No one at the camp was a kid anymore. They didn’t need adult supervision.
For a second, she longed to travel back more than two decades ago. When everything was safe and easy to explain. Before she had adult responsibilities. And real-life consequences. “I don’t know why anyone would attack me,” she said, breaking the silence.
“Do you have any enemies?”
She shook her head. “None that I’m aware of. No one knows I’m here. Why target me? How?”
The patrol vehicle pulled into the gravel lot, tires crunching over the small stones.
“I promise I’ll keep you safe. Are you ready to go in?” Daniel asked, parking the vehicle but leaving the engine running.
She was tired, wet, and cold. She longed for dry clothes and a fuzzy blanket.
Her eyelids and head were heavy, keeping both up exerted effort.
The thin, broken-spring mattress on the top bunk had never been so welcoming.
“I’m not ready to face everyone, but I guess we better go inside.
You’re in charge, Sheriff.” She unbuckled her seat belt.
He held up a hand. “Wait for a second. Please?”
She turned towards him, folding her arms over her chest and tugging her sleeves over her clammy hands.
“I’m sorry about insisting you use my title back there.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I was kind of thrown for a loop to bump into you at all. Meeting you at the scene of a crime of all places was especially jarring. You can call me, Daniel, if you prefer.”
She shook her head. “No, you were right. Maybe it’s easier if I call you Sheriff.” The word choice definitely established boundaries. While she worked to reclaim her memories, she couldn’t regain the time that they had lost in their friendship. And if she was being honest, she wouldn’t want to.
Her life took a different path from the one she had imagined as a child.
She didn’t regret all the work that she had done along the way.
Helping troubled teens and their families started as a way to do some good with her life and came to nourish her soul in return.
“Come on, let’s go in. It isn’t getting easier sitting out here. ”
He cut the engine. “After you, please.”
She got out of the vehicle and crossed the parking lot to the mess hall.
The biggest of all the buildings on the property, the mess hall was a green painted, single-story structure that overlooked the rest of the camp.
The back wall was entirely made up of windows with screens.
This time of year, the windows would be open to let in the fresh air and sounds of their surroundings.
The exterior paint flaked and faded. The roof probably had weak spots and broken shingles.
While the building needed tender loving care, like so much of the property, it remained the shining beacon of the camp, inviting everyone to gather inside.
The soft glow emanated from the inside out, stirring awake sleeping memories.
On rainy days it served as the hub for indoor board games and arts and crafts. At night it promised a sweet treat before catching fireflies off the wraparound porch. It was the home and the heart of the camp.
As Emma stepped inside, a packed room of hungry campers finishing up the dinner service, she felt for the first time that she had stepped back in time.
She didn’t remember any specific moments, but a general sense of nostalgia warmed her.
It was a relief. She feared what she’d find when she came back, leaning hard into prayer in the days leading up to her visit.
While she wanted her memories, she didn’t think for a second that facing her past would be easy.
She crossed the large room full of trestle tables and benches to the spot set in the back, closest to the kitchen.
The early years of camp thrived in her memory, starting with the summer before fourth grade.
It was her first time sleeping away from home.
Her bunkmates had stumbled onto a discovery at that table.
Mrs. Thomas would make eye contact with them from inside the kitchen and would slip the girls extra desserts for being good.
“Oh my goodness, Emma? You’re here?” Christine, a bubbly blonde asked, rising off the bench seat. “When you said you had a ride, I didn’t expect a police escort.”
“Oh my, Emma. Hi,” Jennifer, a brunette with a sleek bob added. “You haven’t changed a bit. I’d recognize you anywhere.”
Jennifer looked like the grownup version of the little girl she’d been, elongated and thinned out. But Christine would have been a stranger to Emma if she hadn’t been with her best friend.
After a round of hugs from Jennifer and Christine, Emma stepped to the side. “Do you girls remember Daniel? He was a townie like me. He’s the sheriff now.”
Everyone’s eyes widened.
“Is that why we saw flashing lights earlier?” A petite redhead in a sweater set and perfectly pressed jeans asked, fingering a strand of pearls at her neck.
“Marge?” Emma asked.
Jennifer and Christine snorted. “I guess that’s slightly better than Maggot,” Christine said.
“If you don’t mind, I prefer Margaux.” The redhead tucked a strand of hair behind her ears, shifting to toy with a pearl stud in her ear lobe. “But only if you don’t mind, it’s okay if you forget.”
“No, no. Margaux, it is.” Emma flashed a courteous smile.
The quick backtracking after setting an expectation definitely fit the girl she’d known during those early years at camp.
Emma recalled the first few years with ease.
As children, Margaux should have been the queen bee.
She had the pedigree and the clothes thanks to her wealthy family.
The other east coasters had shunned her with no explanation. Liz had adopted her.
“Come on sit down. Do you want a coffee? You look wet,” Christine said.
“I would love a coffee.” Emma’s stomach growled.
“And let me see if I can get you some dinner,” Jennifer added.
“Thank you.” Emma gratefully sank to the bench, feeling like every inch of her was made of lead.
“Are you here because of me?” Margaux asked, addressing the sheriff in a hushed tone.
“I’m sorry?” Daniel asked, meeting Emma’s gaze quickly before darting back to the other woman. “Are you in need of assistance?”
“Well, I am being blackmailed. I guess I need help.” Margaux laughed, the sound devoid of joy, brittle, and crackling. She pulled a sheet of paper from her pocket and slapped it onto the table.
Emma jumped in surprise. She had enough of sudden noises for one night. She pressed her hand to her heaving chest and took in several deep breaths as she read.
I know what you did. I’m not the only one. Keep in check. The missive was scrawled in rushed, red, cursive letters.
Emma’s blood ran cold, icy dams forming in her veins.
She raised her gaze to meet Daniel’s. For an unguarded moment, he shared her look of shock. And that shook her to her core. Could this be the answer? Was Margaux the target, and Owen—and Emma—had accidentally gotten in the way?
“When did you receive this?” Daniel asked. “How?”
“I found it today when I checked in,” Margaux said. “In our bunk.”
“What do they want?” Emma whispered.
“I don’t know.” Margaux replied. “That’s all the note said.”
Emma frowned. Blackmail implied getting something in return for keeping a dangerous secret. The note could have been intended for any of the cabinmates. It might have fallen off Emma’s top bunk and onto Margaux’s bottom bunk. Emma gulped.
“Do you have any enemies?” he asked.
“My husband is running for the senate in South Carolina. I am a public figure whether or not I want to be.” Margaux shrugged.
“Here you are,” Christine announced, returning with a steaming bowl of chili and cornbread.
Jennifer carried a mug.
Emma stared at the food, no longer hungry now that danger lurked nearby. “Thanks.”