Chapter 13
Thirteen
Emma wasn’t sure how she managed to sleep after the stressful day.
But she had. Because one moment, she was arguing with someone about fixing a leak in her nonexistent basement, the frustration of getting nowhere fueling her ire, and the next, she stared up at the ceiling of a faded red pop-up tent, her neck stiff and her back aching.
On the sleeping bag next to her, Margaux snored. The nasally breathing was inconsistent in frequency and pitch. Part whistle part whine, Emma cringed at the noise.
Emma must have been exhausted to have slept through that. And one glance at the empty spot where Christine’s sleeping bag had been confirmed it. Somehow, she hadn’t heard her friend leave the camp earlier this morning either.
Still fully dressed, Emma slipped out from her sleeping bag, unzipped the flap, and let herself outside into the chilly morning air.
Overhead, the sky had already brightened somewhat but struggled to reach full strength.
In a few more weeks, she wouldn’t be able to sleep in past 5:30 in the morning.
As the sun rose earlier and earlier in the season, so did she.
Emma hated waking up at seven only to feel as if she’d missed half the day with the sun so high in the bright blue sky.
But today the sun wasn’t bright. There was an overcast haze, although no looming threat of rain. Anticipation was often times worse than the actual situation. How appropriate for their day.
Seated on the same log as last night, Daniel stared at something in his hands. He’d started another fire.
The curling wisps of smoke weren’t as strong as last night’s blaze. But she’d be glad for anything to help stave off the chill in the damp morning air. She rubbed her hands together and neared. “Good morning.”
He lifted his gaze. For a second, he looked uncertain. “Good morning,” came his rough, grumbly greeting.
There was something intimate at hearing someone’s voice in the morning before they’d warmed up their vocal chords. She longed to have the sort of connection of being his first hello every day.
He cleared his throat. “Did you sleep well?”
She bit the inside of her cheek. She supposed she did although her aching body didn’t thank her. “I’m fine,” she replied. “Did you sleep at all?”
He chuckled. “Not much.” He glanced down at his lap.
“Are you working?” she asked.
“No.” He closed the book and held it up. “Bible study.”
“Oh.” The single word reply was almost a gasp. He didn’t just tell others of his faith but lived it. She crossed to sit on the log closest to him. “Do you mind reading aloud?”
His cheeks reddened, and his brow furrowed.
“Unless you don’t want to?” she asked, no longer feeling welcome.
“Of course. Just…I started from the beginning again, and I’m at Genesis and…”
“Adam and Eve?” she asked. “It is not good for man to be alone?”
He nodded.
“Is this the moment you tell me about your wife?” She tried to make the words playful but a muscle in her jaw twitched. “It’s not my business.”
“There hasn’t been anyone,” he murmured. “No one really…completes me the way…”
Now or never. She took in a deep breath, finding her resolve. “We did?”
“I know you’re not staying. You’ll probably leave the second you can after this misguided hike in the woods.” He chuckled, but the laugh sounded forced.
“I never wanted exile. But now I…” A lump clogged her throat. “How would I come back? What would I do?”
“We need therapists here, too. Your skills make you desirable any place you want to live.”
She appreciated the encouragement. But if her sister had been murdered and the case remain unsolved, would she drive herself into a death spiral with searching for the conspiracy? She wouldn’t be any good to anyone like that.
“Just consider it,” he murmured. “I don’t suppose you thought to bring instant coffee with you?”
“In fact, I think someone did. Hold on one second.” She walked to her tent and pulled her backpack out of the tent as quietly as possible.
Back at the fire, she produced two mugs, two packets of instant coffee, and a bottle of water. They filled up the mugs with water, Emma ripped open the packages of granules and poured them in each mug, and then they held the mugs near the flames.
“I suppose the best I can do is get the water above room temperature.”
“Anything sounds like heaven right now,” he said with a sigh.
She had much to think about with what came next. But first she had to focus on the present and their current circumstances. Either they were being eliminated one by one or terrible accidents kept happening by pure coincidence. Neither was a good thought. “Did Christine leave? Did you see her go?”
He nodded.
“How was she this morning?”
“Better. A little shaken up, but I think she’ll get to the camp, maybe go to the hospital to get checked out. She and Jennifer will probably be gone when we get back.”
Emma knew that had been likely to happen, but hearing her thoughts confirmed made her heart ache. She’d wanted more time with her old friends. A proper goodbye would have been hard but worth the tears. “Can I tell you something terrible?”
“Is it that you think the allergic reaction was somehow caused on purpose?”
Now she had a turn to nod her head and keep her mouth shut.
“It’s not terrible. And I’ve had the same suspicion,” he murmured. “Problem is pinpointing who and why. I still don’t have a clear understanding of motive.”
“I don’t know what happened while I was in the refrigerator. Anyone could have planted the chocolate.”
Nylon rustling preceded the tent flap opening, and Margaux appeared much the worse for wear. She squinted in their general direction, her hair sticking up straight. Her face looked puffy like she’d been crying. Maybe feeling guilty over last night?
Emma felt bad for not hearing sobs last night. What else had she missed?
“Good morning,” Emma greeted. Perhaps a little too brightly if Margaux’s wince was any indication. “I have another mug if you would like some instant coffee.”
“I can’t. It doesn’t work with—” Margaux cut herself off. “Caffeine is not good for me.”
What would she have said if she hadn’t edited herself in that moment? “Sure, of course,” Emma smoothed over the awkward moment with a smile.
“But I will take a granola bar.” Margaux reached into her own backpack and produced a wrapped bar. She tore into it, bit off a chunk, and crunched loudly.
The nice quiet start to the morning was officially over.
Although Emma supposed that was inevitable.
She wanted to get to the end of this journey, even though she worried about what she’d find.
Losing two of their traveling companions ratcheted up the paranoia she’d been slowly inundated with since arriving at camp.
“Do you ever think your life has been wasted because of a lie?” Margaux said between bites.
Emma drew back her chin on instinct, looking to Daniel. He shared her blank look and seemed equally perplexed by the question. “Is that a rhetorical question? Or are you genuinely asking the two of us?”
“No, I’m asking you, Emma,” Margaux said. “You could’ve done anything. Chased your dreams. Didn’t you want to be a Rockette at one point?”
Emma forced a laugh. Her body hadn’t danced in years. After a childhood spent devoted to lessons, she packed up her dance shoes, following Liz’s funeral, and never looked back. “I haven’t thought about that for a long time. Add it to the list, I suppose.”
Daniel flashed a warm smile.
Emma spotted the shift to wariness in his gaze when he glanced from her to Margaux.
“I remember everything,” Margaux muttered under her breath.
Emma pulled her mug off the fire and gingerly stuck her pinky finger into the water and coffee granules.
It was just above lukewarm. She stirred before taking a sip.
What was the lie? Liz’s death? Why was Margaux saying that?
They’d never discussed it. Had she been eavesdropping on moments alone between Emma and Daniel?
A sudden flash of lightning appeared in Emma’s mind’s eye.
The deep roar of thunder rattled the single pane windows of the cabin.
“I won’t be gone long. Just one more practice,” Liz said. “Stay here with the girls.”
“Don’t go. You’ll get drenched and catch a cold. You’re no good to us if you’re sick,” Emma protested, blocking the door.
“But you’d have a chance to be on your own. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
“I don’t think you’re going to rehearse for the talent show. I think you’re going to make a bad choice.”
“If I was, I wouldn’t tell you. Culpable deniability.”
The past flooded Emma’s present, her blood chilling as she recalled scraps of their last conversation. Liz had flounced into the cabin waving a paper.
“I never wanted to dance on my own,” Emma said slowly, coming out of the memory and back to the campsite.
“Liz had grand plans about us living in New York City together. But I couldn’t perform without her.
It wasn’t my dream. It was a shared dream.
I wanted a degree and space first. We were set to start different colleges in the fall.
She told me that night that she’d been accepted and was transferring to my school. I was mad. I yelled.”
“Oh?” Margaux gasped. “But you were so talented. What a waste. You’re just helping kids now.”
The frantic, desperate energy rolling off Margaux in waves was like the first warning before a tsunami when the tide went the wrong way. What did this woman who had become a stranger in their adult years care about Emma’s life and her choices?
A memory tickled the back of Emma’s mind. Although she wasn’t sure if it was real or a dream fragment. Margaux yelling at Owen, acting berserk and flailing wildly, during that final summer. But that wouldn’t make sense. Why would they interact like that? Why would those two ever speak?
“This is my path,” Emma said slowly, as if speaking to a child. “I’m doing good work that I was called to do. It doesn’t matter how I was lead here. I don’t regret serving others.”
“But still, I—”