Chapter 4. Alice #2
Alice risked a glance to the back of the RV.
Jenny was sleeping with her head on Simon’s shoulder as he leaned against the window.
His eyes were closed too, but his face didn’t seem as relaxed, and she couldn’t tell if he was sleeping or just resting.
She wondered if she should try to whisper to Tom, or pass him a note, but Simon’s backpack was on the seat beside him, and Jenny’s was under the table.
If they had a weapon, it was within reach.
Alice thought of their own gun. She didn’t know how to unlock the case or load it.
She’d made Tom hide the gun deep in the RV, out of sight.
They’d never be able to get to it in time if they were attacked.
The closer they got to Salmon Arm, the stronger Alice’s foreboding.
Town meant people. People meant complications.
People also meant distraction and the possibility of rescue.
When Tom checked in at the campground, she’d go inside with him.
They’d call the police from the office. What would it be like when they arrived? Would the couple put up a fight?
They found the campground on the shore of the Shuswap Lake. Tom parked in front of the office, but before they could get out a man with a clipboard jogged up to Tom’s window.
Alice sat numb through the check-in. She didn’t hear anything the campsite manager told them, nothing about the showers or the facilities.
Tom followed the directions to their site and carefully backed the RV into it.
Once again, they were among trees, but this time Tom didn’t scrape the side of the RV.
Alice tried to smile when he cheered. After they set up camp, Tom and Simon made their way to the lake for the evening bite.
Alice watched them go, praying that Simon had no reason to hurt her husband.
Alice prepped dinner with Jenny, half of her mind on the task, the other in a strange cocoon of shock.
This isn’t real. You’re having a breakdown.
You’ve completely lost your mind. She couldn’t let Jenny know that she was upset.
She had to distract the girl—and herself.
She told Jenny about their house, a sunshine-yellow bungalow with a covered back porch, where they could hide from the rain while enjoying their coffees, and the garden she’d dug for fresh vegetables.
She spoke about how Tom first asked her out for a date, passing her a note at a staff meeting.
She talked about their cat named Pat because she liked to say, “Pat the Cat.” She even described the kind, elderly neighbor lady who was taking care of Pat for them.
Alice wanted Jenny to like her. To think of them as good people. Harmless. But would it even matter?
The salad and fixings were prepared when the men came back with three fat rainbow trout, Tom slapping Simon’s back like they were the best of friends.
Simon showed them how to make a beer batter and then pan-fry the fillets in a cast-iron skillet without burning them.
Alice imagined that they must think her fascinated as she watched intently, but she was trying to correlate the couple in front of her with what she had read about their deeds.
This earnest boy who made sure the fire was the right heat, who waited for them to each try a bite, his expression hopeful, and who relaxed only after Tom had declared it perfect.
“Blue’s a good cook,” Jenny said.
“Do you live together?” Tom said.
“We’re in between places at the moment.”
“What about when the baby comes?” Tom’s brow furrowed, and he set one hand on his knee. Alice knew this pose and his teacher tone of voice. He was about to launch into a lecture.
“We have plans.” Simon’s voice was tight now, his movements brisk as he made sure that all the fine bones were pulled out of Jenny’s portion of fish. Jenny’s gaze flicked from Simon’s hands to Tom’s face. She was stroking her stomach in small, agitated circles.
Tom had to stop asking questions. Alice was terrified he was going to ask the wrong one, and maybe Simon would decide that they knew too much about him and Jenny.
“This fish is amazing, Blue,” Alice said. “Do you have any other recipes?”
Simon turned to her with his eyes narrowed.
She wasn’t sure if he was thinking about recipes or if he’d realized that she was trying to distract him.
She kept her expression soft, trying to look curious, not tense.
After a moment Simon said, “If you don’t have a pan, you can wrap any fish in tinfoil and cook it right in the hot coals.
” When Simon continued talking, explaining that some people ate fiddlehead ferns and stinging nettles, she let out a small breath.
Alice wasn’t sure how she made it through the next couple of hours.
It was a blurred montage of washing dishes, slicing watermelon, and fighting back the ever-present fear.
The only thing that kept her going was the belief that Tom would have a solution.
He’d know how to get them out of this. They sat by the fire until sunset, the sky flashing pink and gold through the trees.
When the forest around their camp turned to dark shadows, Tom and Simon finally ran out of fishing stories, and Jenny was yawning.
The young couple decided to use the bathrooms and get ready for bed.
Alice felt a surge of relief—then Tom got up as well.
“Think I’ll take a shower.”
No! She had to talk to him now. Alice lurched to her feet, picked up the empty fruit plate, and followed Tom into the RV.
He grabbed his shaving kit and tossed his towel over his shoulder.
He was moving so fast. She reached for his sleeve, but then a scuffing sound at the open doorway.
She turned. Simon was waiting with one foot on the step, watching them.
She dropped her hand. “I’ll make up the bed.”