Chapter 10
I answered the door because no one else moved. The knock had come soft at first—three dull raps that blended too easily with the wind. Then it came louder, insistent, like whoever stood on the porch had decided we couldn’t afford to pretend we hadn’t heard it.
Bill filled the doorway as if the storm had shaped him out of it.
His skin was red from the wind, cheeks raw, eyelashes dotted with melting snow.
Cold rolled in behind him, intense enough to sting.
He stared past me into the cabin, blinking like he was trying to make sense of the scene before committing to it.
“I thought y’all left,” he said. His voice was rough, not unkind. “I was driving by and noticed your vehicle wasn’t out front. Y’all okay?”
Before I could answer, Noah appeared at my shoulder, pulled there by the question alone.
“Where were you?” he demanded.
The accusation made Bill flinch, not dramatically, just enough to register. His brows lifted, and his posture tightened.
“I—” He stopped, eyes flicking between Noah and me. “I went to help a friend,” he said carefully, choosing each word. “Why?”
Noah’s jaw worked. His teeth ground together, the sound faint but unmistakable. He looked like he was holding himself together by sheer pressure.
Bill’s eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”
“It got stuck,” I said, too fast, because if I didn’t speak, the moment would snap. “Our SUV. It’s up at your place. We couldn’t—” I swallowed. “We couldn’t get it out.”
“Why’s it up there? I told y’all to stay put in this kind of weather.”
The question hooked into my ribs. Bill didn’t sound guilty. He sounded . . . confused. Annoyed, even.
“Our friend was missing,” I said. “So we went looking for her.”
Bill’s gaze moved over the room, slow and deliberate, like he was taking inventory. Jake by the couch, Ricky near the kitchen, the fire still burning hot. His eyes slid back to Noah, then landed on me.
“The brunette?” he asked.
Noah’s face twisted. “Her name was Maddie.”
Bill went very still. “What do you mean, ‘was’?”
Noah’s throat worked, and he opened his mouth. For a moment, I thought he’d force the words out anyway. Instead, the sound that came from him was small and broken—something between a sob and a gasp. He turned and walked down the hallway.
A second later, the bathroom door slammed.
“What’s going on?” Bill asked again, slower this time.
Tears burned behind my eyes, but I held them back because someone had to stay upright.
“We found her,” I said. “In the snow,” I added, quieter.
Bill looked at me like I’d spoken a language he didn’t recognize. Behind him, the wind surged, rattling the porch and snapping the loose edge of the sheet covering Maddie. The sound cut clean through the quiet.
Bill turned toward the linen-wrapped shape tucked against the wall. His face hardened as the realization set in, the pieces aligning one by one. There was nothing abstract about it. It was unmistakable, far too human to confuse it with anything else.
He shook his head once, not in disbelief, more like in recognition.
“Y’all call the police?” he asked.
“We tried,” I said. “None of us have a signal, and the Wi-Fi’s down.”
Behind me, Jake stood. The movement was sudden, aggressive, like he’d been waiting for permission to explode.
“Where were you, Bill!?” he shouted. “If you live up the road, why weren’t you there?”
Bill’s eyes flicked to him, and the temperature in the doorway shifted.
“I told you I went to help a friend,” he said. The patience in his voice had edges now. “What exactly are you implying, son?”
Jake stepped forward, rubbing his temple hard. “I’m implying the only other person out here is you, motherfucker.”
Ricky made a sound under his breath—half warning, half disbelief.
“You watch your mouth,” Bill said.
I stepped between them, palms out. “Jake,” I said evenly. “Go sit down.”
His eyes flashed to mine, dark and feverish. For a second, I didn’t recognize him at all.
“Blair—”
“Now!”
He held my gaze, fighting it, and then something gave. He muttered under his breath and backed into the living room, dropping onto the couch. His hand went to his head again, fingers digging in.
“Listen,” Bill said, voice lower now, more practical. “There ain’t much we can do tonight. I can take you up in my truck and help you get your SUV unstuck, at least get it down here.” He paused. “Otherwise, you wait till morning, and it’ll be buried deeper by then.”
“Can’t you take us to the police station?” I asked.
Bill shook his head. “Nearest one’s twenty miles away, and I’m not driving that far in this. Best I can do is pull your SUV out.”
I looked at Ricky. He nodded once. “Okay, let’s go now,” he said. “While there’s still some light.”
“I’m coming,” Jake said, pushing himself up again.
Ricky cut him off. “No, you’re not.”
Jake blinked, offended. “What?”
“You’re too hotheaded,” Ricky said. “You’re not thinking straight, and this isn’t the situation for that. We only need three people anyway. One in each vehicle and one spotting, so you’re better off staying here with Noah. He needs someone.”
Jake opened his mouth, then stopped. His hand went to his temple again like it had become a reflex.
“Let’s go,” Ricky said to Bill.
I grabbed my coat from the hook. My hands shook as I shoved my arms into the sleeves. I glanced down the hallway. The bathroom door was still closed.
“Jake,” I said, “keep an eye on Noah.”
He hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah. Sure.”
As Ricky and I stepped onto the porch, the wind surged up around us, loud and insistent.
I didn’t fully trust Bill, but I trusted the storm even less.