Chapter 35
THIRTY-FIVE
“I think his phone is dead.”
An overwhelming sense of helplessness nearly knocks me to the ground, but Patrick is there with his hand holding mine, supporting me. In the five-minute ride to Deep Creek Campground, I filled him in as much as I possibly could, leaving out the bits and pieces I promised Lincoln I would keep confidential—like the fact that he’s a profiler for the FBaI.
Patrick winces, the worry lines on his face deepening as we pull in beside Lincoln’s car. “I have a bad feeling about this, Evie.”
I could laugh at that sentiment if I weren’t focused on finding Lucy. He was always the one who would encourage me to explore the woods, even late at night, as long as I followed his one rule. Stay on the path.
My stomach sinks when I replay the exact moment I decided to break that rule all those years ago. Foster had come back to get me. He didn’t want to stop searching for Carley, but he didn’t want to leave me behind, either. For years, I wondered if the reason he never tried to find me was because he hated me. I had been so stubborn about staying on the trail. Maybe if I had just gone with him the first time, we would have found Carley before she was killed.
Shaking off my dark thoughts, I head toward the entrance of the campground. We make it all the way to the same campsite that strangles me with nostalgia. It’s so easy to remember the first time I saw Foster Pruitt and his moody scowl as he was forced to listen to the same campfire tale over and over.
I’m almost lost in my memories when a voice calls my name.
“Evie!”
I snap my head to find the man in the black hoodie jogging toward me.
He speaks.
At least now, thanks to Lincoln’s confessions, I know the man is his partner, Dylan.
“What are you doing here?” Dylan demands. “You need to leave.”
Narrowing my eyes at the near-stranger, I shake my head. “I’m not leaving until I know Lucy is okay.”
Patrick is glaring at the man too. “Who the hell are you?”
Dylan sighs and pulls down his hoodie to reveal a head of shaggy strawberry-blonde curls and crystal-blue eyes. They must only hire Abercrombie models in the FBI. I guess that was the point of him keeping his features covered, considering he was hiding in plain sight from me, spying on me for Lincoln.
“This is Dylan,” I tell Patrick, trying to calm him so we can focus on the mission at hand. “He’s Lincoln’s friend.”
“You both should go,” Dylan says. “Lincoln wouldn’t want you anywhere near this place.”
“No offense,” I snap, “but I don’t really care what Lincoln wants. I’m staying.”
Dylan tilts his head and challenges me with a look that tells me he knows a hell of a lot more about me longer than I know about him. “You sure about that? I tracked his phone before he lost signal. He’s in the woods, Evie.”
“Why would he be there?” But the answer dawns on me a second later. “Is Lucy in the woods?”
Dylan’s expression and tone soften. “I can only guess that’s why Lincoln went in there.” He sighs. “I know this goes against everything you want to do, but if you won’t leave, maybe you should at least wait here. If he is in there looking for Lucy, then you can be here waiting if she comes out.”
“I’ll go with Dylan to search,” Patrick says, his eyes steady on mine. “Everything will be okay.”
“She doesn’t know you, Patrick.” My heart is breaking at the mere thought of not being out there, searching for her myself.
Even Dylan does a double take between us. “Which is why you should be here in case she finds her way out.” When Dylan seems to realize that his words aren’t convincing me, he tries again. “She knows me. Patrick and I will stay close together.”
I open my mouth to argue, but I quickly realize how much time is being wasted. “Just go already. Go find her.” I throw my arms out, showing them that I’ve given up. They win. “Go!” I yell.
They jolt into action and run in the direction of the trailhead. I pace for what seems like forever but is probably five whole minutes before I get too frustrated to stand by and do nothing to help.
I take a few steps toward the trailhead, looking desperately for any sign of activity through the trees. There’s still a good two hours left of daylight, so the chances of Lucy being found are good. I let that thought calm me a bit, then I pick up my phone again and search for Francine’s number.
She answers on the first ring. “Evie,” she says, sounding breathless. “Are you with Lincoln?”
Dread fills me. “I was hoping you were. He went to Deep Creek to find you guys. He was so worried Lucy would want to go on that firefly walk and…” I pause, not wanting to give any details he hasn’t given her yet. “I just got here to make sure everything was okay. Are you here?”
“Oh dear,” Francine says. “I was there earlier, but Lucy desperately wanted to play with Willow and see the fireflies, so I left. Lilith said she would take care of Lucy, but she was supposed to call Lincoln to tell him. I guess that didn’t happen. Now I can’t reach Lincoln or Lilith.” Her voice has begun to shake. “Oh, Evie, I think I made a terrible mistake.”
I pull in a deep breath, not wanting Francine to sense my worry. She’s frightened enough as it is. “You didn’t know. I think Linc’s phone is dead or he’s lost signal. It last pinged in the woods, so he might be in there with Lucy.” I try to give her an optimistic outcome. “Maybe they went to see the fireflies.” I cringe, knowing without a doubt it is not the truth.
“Maybe so.” Francine already sounds calmer.
“Dylan and my uncle Patrick are out there looking too. Everything is going to be okay, Francine.”
Even as I say those words, I know I have no right to. Carley didn’t make it out of the woods alive fourteen years ago, nor did the other eleven victims—possibly twelve, if Billy counts. What makes me think anyone would be safe now?
After ending the call, I take another two steps toward the woods, not sure how much more patient I can be. So I make rounds at the campsite, asking every single person there if they’ve seen a little blonde girl. I show them Lucy’s picture. Some saw her with the group of kids from earlier, but no one saw her walking alone.
Then I reach one of the last campsites and see a group of kids roasting marshmallows by the fire, along with several adults who are helping them.
The moment I spot a giggling Lucy holding a flaming marshmallow on a long stick, I want to burst into tears. Willow and her other school friends are holding sticks too. No one seems to understand that utter madness has broken out in the woods.
Lucy’s eyes widen when she sees me, and she leaps to her feet. One of the moms takes the stick from her before she sprints over and tosses her entire body into my open arms.
I inhale her sweet strawberry-shortcake scent then pull back. “Hey, Lucy.” It takes everything to keep the emotion out of my voice. “I didn’t know you were camping tonight.”
She nods excitedly. “Did you come with Daddy? He’s supposed to pick me up.”
More red flags abound in my thoughts. “I’m meeting him here too,” I tell her. Then I look up to one of the moms who’s approaching. I’ve seen her around town. “Hi,” I say. “Have you seen Lilith or Lincoln anywhere?”
The woman, who I now recognize as Julie, the owner of a retail shop on Main Street, shakes her head. “Lilith got a terrible migraine earlier, so she went home, but the girls were desperate to see the fireflies, so I said I’d watch them. I’m supposed to take Willow home later. I was told Lincoln would be picking up Lucy.”
Julie is mid-sentence when a series of suspicions wrap my heart like a coiled snake. My blood goes cold as I begin sorting pieces of an entirely new puzzle, one I never thought to put together until now.
Lilith is taking care of Lucy without Lincoln’s knowledge or permission.
Lilith is taking Lucy to see the fireflies, of all things.
Lilith lives in Bryson City, the suspected hometown of the killer.
Lilith was with Billy before he went missing.
Lilith is a patient of J.D.’s and now Lincoln’s.
Lilith was there on the night of Carley’s murder.
Lilith.
My heartbeat triples, and I immediately turn back toward the woods.
I’m not sure how much more evidence I needed to put the last piece in the puzzle, but I’m not sure I can believe it even though it’s staring me right in the face.
Lilith can’t be the Firefly Man. No fucking way. If she were, that would mean…
That would mean she killed Carley fourteen years ago and continued killing long afterward.
Julie tilts her head as if she’s picking up on my panic. “Is everything okay?”
I force the best smile I can manage, not wanting to cause anyone else to worry. “Yes, of course. I’m just trying to track Lincoln down, that’s all.”
I look over in the direction of the trailhead, knowing what I need to do next.
Lucy tugs on my hand. “You’ll find my daddy, Evie?”
Sinking to my knees, eye to eye with my favorite little bumblebee, I give her the most encouraging smile I can muster. “I will, Lucy. Stay here while I go get him, okay? I’ll be right back.”
I hate that I have doubts that I will be back, and worse, that I will find Lincoln alive. Losing Carley was one tragedy too many in my lifetime. I won’t allow that to happen again.
She nods, and I squeeze her hand before determination floods me.
I pick myself up off the ground and move straight into the woods. I should have learned my lesson about listening to Uncle Patrick the first time, but I’m disobeying him once again. Then again, somehow I know deep down that whatever decision I make is one he’ll understand.
As if I need his encouragement, I imagine Patrick with a raised chin and a gleam of pride twinkling in his blue eyes, freeing me to do what I need to do. Something my parents would have never agreed with.
It’s so easy to remember why I found safety in Patrick’s presence throughout my life. He was always there for me. Never judging me. Always showing me the options but never deciding my direction. Just like Carley, Patrick was a firefly, helping me find my way through life when my parents had abandoned me.
Now it’s my turn to light my own path.