Chapter 44
THE NEXT MORNING, I TRY TO HIDE MY SLEEP-DEPRIVED EYES WITH makeup.
Rub blush into my cheeks. Without my car, I’m a virtual prisoner here.
I decide to go for a run, get out of the house and avoid Alex.
I hear him and Sunny in the kitchen as I pass by.
I could call the cops, but what if Officer Tilden shows up?
He’s obviously got something going on with Alex.
The rain stopped overnight, but the day is gray.
I run toward Noah’s house, running in the opposite direction for a change.
I slow, hoping to see his light on, his car in the driveway, but the house is dark and silent.
He’s not back from California yet. I wonder how his meeting with the FBI went.
I head around the swamp, where birds chatter among the reeds and cattails wave in the cold breeze.
I stop, pull out my phone, and try Noah again, but he doesn’t answer.
I leave a message to call me ASAP. The FBI needs to know about the boxes in the turret room.
I stick my phone back in my pocket and continue my run.
I round the bend and the Thompsons’ house is in sight.
I wonder, again, where Aubrey is and hope that she’s safe.
Her house is also dark, empty. Dale’s car is gone.
There’s no one here at Cheshire Lake to help me. I’m on my own.
The feeling of being watched creeps over my skin as I approach Jeffrey’s cottage.
How much does he know? Did he disable my car?
He’d been lurking around the house yesterday.
Or maybe Larry. There seems to be a connection between him, Jeffrey, Ruth, Sunny, and Alex, like a faction set against me.
It seems like I can either be one of them, or I’m the enemy.
But I’m stuck here and can only hope that they believe I’ll help them—until I get my car back.
When I finish my run, I’m exhausted, but I have to pull myself together. Play my part.
I manage to stay away from Alex and Sunny all day. It’s nearly evening when my phone finally rings. Noah.
“Thank God!” I say.
“What’s happened, Emma? Are you okay?”
“Yes. At least for now.”
“Did you get your car back?”
“No, not yet. But listen.” I tearfully tell him about what I found in the turret room, whispering into the phone.
“Jesus Christ, Emma. You need to get out of there.”
“Working on it. What did the FBI say?”
“They’ve taken my notes. They’re interested but not giving anything away. They can’t. They’ll want to check out what I told them before they tell me anything, if they tell me anything. But they’re on it. I’ll call the agent I met with and let him know about what you found.”
“Where are you?”
“My hotel room. My flight leaves day after tomorrow. Look, I’ll try to get on an earlier flight. And when I get back, I’ll head straight to Cheshire Lake. Hopefully, you’ll be gone by then. Go straight to the police, Emma.”
“I will.”
“Please be careful.” The call ends.
The sun is nearly down when Alex calls from the hallway, “Emma?”
I open my door. He’s coming down the hall, his bedroom door open. I think he’s been in there all afternoon.
“Yes?”
“Ruth’s coming over with dinner in a few minutes.”
“Okay. Any news on my car?”
“Actually, they just brought it by. All fixed.” He smiles.
I feel relief flood my body and nearly tumble to the floor.
“That’s great. Thank you. Maybe we can head down to the police station in the morning.”
“Yes.” He nods. His eyes on mine. “Come downstairs. We’ll have a family dinner.”
The house is quiet. The scent of roast beef fills the air in a cozy contrast to the tension that surrounds me. All I can think about is escape.
Ruth quietly sets the kitchen table. She’s as subdued as I’ve ever seen her. She rebuffs my offer of help and pulls the roast from the oven, where it had been warming.
Sunny walks in and gives her a hug as if some impending doom is about to befall us all. Maybe it is. I shiver. I just want to get through this dinner. One last evening with the Spencers, then when everyone goes to bed, I’m gone.
Alex comes in just as Ruth sets the last serving bowl on the table. We sit. I wonder where Larry is. He’s conspicuously absent.
“So, family, this is where we are,” Alex says, his voice upbeat, but tinged with an emotion I can’t pin down. Anger? Fear? “I found out that the cops will be back the day after tomorrow to search Spencer House.”
“Again?” Ruth asks.
Alex’s gaze cuts to me as if this is all my fault. “Yes. They’re looking for something specific. They’re getting a warrant.”
“How do you know this, Dad? Aren’t warrants served unannounced?” Sunny asks.
“I have my ways.”
“What do they want?”
“Proof that Carol was here.”
“They already know that,” Ruth says. “Why are they still bothering us?”
Alex hands round the mashed potatoes after filling his plate. Sunny grabs the dish and sets it back in the center of the table.
I can’t look at Alex. I can’t get the photos, the blood, the dead women out of my mind.
“I don’t know,” he says. “But at least we know when they’ll be here, and we can be prepared.”
“How?” Sunny says. “What are they looking for?”
Alex’s gaze lands on me again and I feel the heat rush to my face.
I toy with my food, pushing it around my plate.
Does he know I was in the turret room? That I went through the boxes there?
Did I close the panel all the way when I left the passageway?
Or has the FBI already alerted the local police and Alex’s informant has tipped him off.
“No telling,” Alex says at last. He pushes the potato bowl toward Sunny. “Eat. You’re thinner every time I see you, honey.”
“I’m fine,” Sunny says. “I’ll be better when the police finish their business and move on, leave us the hell alone.”
Alex sighs. “I’m sorry this has taken a toll on you, baby. You too, Ruth,” he says. I am distinctly left out. “But we’ll make it through. They won’t find anything here. We’ll be fine.” He reaches over and gives Sunny’s hand a squeeze.