Chapter 34 Caro
CARO
CARO PULLS UP SHORT by the main tent, heart racing.
Even though she headed over as soon as she got Ash’s message, one of the police cars is already making its way back down the drive, away from the resort.
Caro can’t tell if there’s anyone sitting in the back.
Did they bring someone here? Are they taking someone away? What’s happened?
Ash appears from around the corner of the tent, tucking her phone into her pocket. “Any news?”
“Not yet,” Caro says as a Sonnet golf cart pulls up.
The employee with the dark, sticking-up hair—Gareth—is driving, and Spencer’s inside.
He unfolds his long legs and climbs out.
He hasn’t shaved yet, and his eyes are shadowed with exhaustion.
“Hey,” Spencer says when he sees Ash and Caro. “Did they call you in, too?”
“Who?” Ash asks.
“The police,” he says. “They want to talk to me.”
“Excuse us,” Gareth says. “I’m supposed to take Mr. Clayton to speak with them immediately.”
“They’re with me,” Spencer says. He looks at Caro. “If you want to be?”
Caro glances at Ash. The decision is instantaneous.
“We do,” she says. They need to talk to the police as soon as they can, and learning anything extra can’t hurt.
Plus, whatever the police are going to talk to Spencer about can’t be good if they have to do it in person, and Caro wants to know what it is.
For two seconds, she thinks, Is Spencer a suspect for something?
and then she remembers, This is Spencer.
Spencer Clayton, who I have known forever. There’s no way.
Right?
Gareth seems to decide that this whole situation is above his pay grade and that the police can handle it. “Okay,” he says. “Come on.”
The two officers waiting inside the staff tent are not the ones Caro and Ash met at the hospital yesterday. They introduce themselves as Officer Clark (male, middle-aged, fit, thinning brown hair) and Officer Flanigan (female, bleached blond, extremely tan, and very no-nonsense).
“We need to speak with Mr. Clayton,” Officer Clark says. His voice is sober.
“Is it about Tony?” Spencer rushes on before Officer Clark can answer.
“I’d like Caro to be here while we talk.
She and I have known each other since high school.
” He glances at Ash. “It’s fine if Ash stays, too.
” It’s clear he doesn’t want to be alone for whatever this is.
He swallows hard, his Adam’s apple moving up and down in his throat.
The two officers look at one another. “All right,” says Officer Flanigan.
She indicates that they should sit down on the couches where they sat with Page the day before.
After a moment of uncertainty, Caro sits on a couch with Spencer and Ash sits on a chair by herself.
Officers Clark and Flanigan take the other couch.
When everyone is seated, Officer Flanigan nods at Spencer. “I’m very sorry to tell you that we’ve found Anthony Jameson’s body. We reached out to his family for formal identification, which took place not long ago.”
Spencer closes his eyes. “Okay.” His face has gone very pale.
Caro stands up, startling the others. “I’m going to get him some food.
” Her voice brooks no argument, and she walks toward the staff fridge.
Spencer’s phone begins vibrating on the table in front of him, and he opens his eyes.
Kevin’s face comes up on the screen. “That’s Tony’s brother,” he says.
“Kevin. My friend. The one who was with us in the Underground. Does he know?”
“Yes,” Officer Flanigan says. “He’s been at the police station. We just came from there.”
“Where was he?” Spencer asks. “Tony, I mean?” Caro sits back down. In the staff kitchenette she found a fluorescent-colored sports drink and a pack of peanuts. She sets them on the battered coffee table in front of Spencer. He grabs the bottle but doesn’t open it or take a drink.
“Mr. Jameson’s body surfaced near a farm lower in the canyon,” Officer Flanigan says.
“We have a few pictures.” She holds up her phone but doesn’t offer it to Spencer.
“I should warn you that they’re distressing for the obvious reason that he is deceased, and because his body was naked when they found it. ”
Spencer’s expression is shocked. “What does that mean?”
“We think it was likely the force of the water,” Officer Clark says. “The SAR team has seen it happen before. He was wearing clothing when you last saw him, I assume?”
“Yes,” Spencer says. Now he does twist the top from the bottle and takes a drink, swallowing once, twice, three times.
Caro nods encouragingly. “We were all sleeping, so he wasn’t in full hiking gear or anything.
Shorts, underwear, probably.” Spencer pauses.
“He threw on his shoes before we left the tent. We all did.”
“Remind us what time that was,” Officer Clark says.
“In the middle of the night,” Spencer says.
“I looked at my watch when we first woke up and it was around eleven thirty. So not long after that.” He puts down his drink.
“We tried to cross the river, but it was too high, so we went back and were trying to climb up the canyon walls. At one point I turned around and he was… gone.”
“Did anyone in your group see Kevin trying to climb out of the canyon?” Officer Clark asks the women.
“I didn’t.” Caro tips her head, thinking. “I only saw him when we were all running around by the river. We”—she gestures to Ash—“crossed to the other side. Our campsites were in different spots, so we were all doing what made the most sense in the moment. It was every person for themself.”
“Was that before or after your friend went missing?”
“Before,” Caro says.
“What was the connection between your groups?” Officer Flanigan asks. “Did you plan to hike in and camp out together?”
“There was no connection,” Caro says.
“But you know each other,” Officer Flanigan says, looking back and forth between Caro and Spencer.
“That was random luck.” Caro glances at Spencer. “We ran into each other when we were already in the Underground. We hadn’t seen each other in years.”
“What are the odds?” Officer Clark raises his eyebrows.
“Decent, actually,” Spencer says. “Hundreds of local kids grow up hiking these canyons and then come back again as adults.” He sounds exhausted, not defensive.
“You’re from St. John, correct?” Officer Clark asks.
“Yes,” Spencer says.
“And you still live there now?”
“That’s right.”
“Remind me of your occupation?”
“I’m an accountant,” Spencer says.
“And you’re from St. John, too?” Officer Clark asks Caro.
“I grew up there,” Caro says. “Now I live in Salt Lake City. But I visit a lot. I still have family here.”
“Full name?”
“Carolina Maria Stewart.”
Ash gives her name as well. “We were hoping to talk to you,” she says. “Caro and I were just about to come down to the police station.”
“And we were hoping to speak with you while we were up here.” Officer Flanigan sits forward on the sofa right as a staff member opens the door and then, seeing the officers, mutters apologies and backs out.
“Again, we’re very sorry to have had to give you the news about Anthony Jameson,” Officer Clark says to Spencer. “You’re free to go.” He turns his gaze to Ash and Caro.
Caro studies Ash’s face, trying to read her, trying to figure out what she wants.
Should they let Spencer stay? It might seem odd if they didn’t, given the news he’s allowed them to hear.
Caro’s not sure what the officers want to talk to them about.
She doesn’t think it’s that Hope is dead—wouldn’t they have indicated that the reason they wanted to talk to the women might be as serious as the one they needed to discuss with Spencer? —but still.
Since Ash doesn’t protest, Caro says, “We’d like Spencer to stay.” And then she tells the police what she and Ash decided they had to share.
“Our friend who is missing is Hope Hanover,” she says.
Spencer blinks, but the officers don’t flinch.
Caro doesn’t have any kind of detective background, but she would guess that Spencer didn’t know Hope was Hope and that the officers have already made the connection.
How? Did Hope use her real name when she signed them in at the trailhead?
Caro didn’t think to check. She hands Officer Flanigan her phone.
“We want to know if she texted us last night. Both Ash and I got a message from an unknown number. Is there a way for you to find out who it was?”
It’s requiring a conscious effort on Caro’s part to make eye contact with the police officers. The last time she was interviewed was at the hospital. Dr. Stewart, when did you first notice the patient was exhibiting signs of distress?
“Yes.” Officer Flanigan’s mouth is pursed, as if she’s not completely pleased about how this is going down, the way the officers are being asked questions instead of the other way around. “Can we take your phones with us?”
“Is that necessary?” Ash asks. “We have families and friends we need to stay in touch with.”
Officer Clark clears his throat. “We can discuss that in a moment,” he says. “Right now, we want to ask you if you know anything about a LikeMe account that went live within the last few hours called @findhopehanover?”
“I’m sorry?” Ash sounds both pissed and puzzled. “You’re asking us about a LikeMe account?”
“It has only one post, but it’s gone viral,” Officer Flanigan says, holding out her phone to them. “It has a picture of the three of you.”
Caro takes the phone first. It’s a picture of her, Hope, and Ash at Sonnet. Caro’s chest knots painfully. Hope. She’s sitting by the fire in her orange Sonnet hoodie, holding a skewer with a marshmallow on it, leaning forward to say something to Ash and Caro.
Who took this? Caro wonders with a shiver. This was the night before the hike. Who was watching then?
In the photo, Hope looks beautiful and intense, her mouth slightly open.
And yes, she is the focus of the picture, but the other women are clearly Caro and Ash.
The three of them in their hoodies, faces lit from the fire.
There’s a slightly vintage feel to the photo, as if whoever took it used a filter to make it look like it had been taken on film.
Caro wishes with every fiber of her being that they had never come here. She would spend the rest of her life just seeing Hope’s gorgeous face on a screen, big or small, a movie screen or a computer or a phone, if it would mean that Hope were alive and safe and sound.
“Yes, this is us.” Caro hands the phone across the coffee table to Ash. “We’re in the photo, but we didn’t take it. Obviously.”
“We didn’t even know it was being taken.” Ash sounds shaken. “Who would have done this?”
“So neither of you began this account or have any knowledge of it?” Officer Flanigan says, taking back the phone.
“Let me head this off at the pass.” Ash’s tone has sharpened. “We did not make this account. We did not ask someone to take this picture and then post it. We also did not hurt our friend. We love Hope Hanover, and we will do anything and everything we can to help and find and protect her.”
“You sound defensive,” Officer Flanigan says.
“We’re not,” Ash says. She hands her phone to Officer Flanigan.
“Here. You can see from this that I didn’t start the account or access it.
And Caro and I have been getting anonymous texts and calls.
Can you find out a way to track those?” She takes a deep breath.
“I’m sorry. I know I’m getting fired up. But we want to help.”
“The way you can best help Hope is by answering our questions,” Officer Clark says. He’s adapted a tone of gentle mildness.
“And we’re wondering why you didn’t tell the police that it was Hope Hanover who was missing,” Officer Flanigan says.
“We gave you—or one of your colleagues, I guess—all the details,” Ash says. “The name she was using for this trip, her phone number, her address, everything we knew.”
“The name you gave wasn’t Hope Hanover,” Officer Flanigan says.
“Holy crap.” Spencer looks as if he’s coming back to life, as if everything they’ve said over the past few minutes has finally sunk in.
Some color has returned to his face, and he no longer looks like he’s on the verge of passing out.
“Tony was right.” Spencer shakes his head.
“He kept telling us that she was famous. Kevin and I kept telling him he was seeing things. And we didn’t have reception in the canyon, so he couldn’t look her up on his phone to prove it. ”
“So Tony knew,” Ash says. She and Caro exchange glances. Hanging out and playing poker with the guys—it had been dangerous. They’d known that. But Hope had insisted on accepting the invitation.
And now both Hope and Tony are missing.
Tony is dead, Caro amends. They have found his body. They have not found Hope’s.
A thought darts across Caro’s mind, quick as a sparrow. What happened in the canyon when the rest of us weren’t there? And then another, one that surprises her so much that she takes a step backward, her legs hitting the table behind her. Could one of them have killed the other?
We were supposed to disappear, Caro thinks. But not for good.
“You didn’t recognize Hope?” Ash asks Spencer, sounding suspicious.
“No,” he says. “I feel so stupid. I mean, something about her did seem familiar. But she looked, like, older than Hope Hanover. More real.”
Yeah, dumbass, Ash’s facial expression seems to say, and as she and Caro catch each other’s eye, they both have to look away quickly so they don’t laugh. It’s wildly inappropriate. None of this is funny. They are on the edge.
“She was so… normal,” Spencer is saying. “I mean, she was obviously gorgeous. But she didn’t have an entourage.”
“She is obviously gorgeous,” Ash says. “Not was. And we’re her entourage.” Caro puts a hand on her back.
“Now everyone knows it’s Hope who’s missing.” Ash draws a shuddery breath. “This is going to be a trainwreck.”