You Will Never Leave: A psychological suspense thriller

by Hinkens, N. L.

  "He looks like a homeless drug addict. He could be dangerous. They’ll do anything to feed their habit," Matt grumbled. "I’m not sure we should stay here tonight after all."

  "It’s too late to blaze a trail to Black Rock now. We can make an early start in the morning." Blair grimaced inwardly as she drained the dregs in her mug. She might as well resign herself to a long, unsettled night with Matt reliving buried terrors, jerking awake, pacing their trailer, and checking and rechecking the lock on the door. Once he’d worked himself up into this agitated frame of mind, there was no talking him out of it. Driving in the torrential rain had slowly been raising his stress level, especially the last few treacherous miles into the campground, and now he’d earmarked Sam as a potential enemy target instead of a fellow traveler they could enjoy a game of cards and a beer with—well, maybe not a beer. Alcohol was not a good companion to Matt’s PTSD.

  By late afternoon, the rain finally let up. "Let’s get out and stretch our legs for a bit, check out the campground before it gets dark," Blair proposed. "We’ve been sitting around all day."

  Matt got to his feet and peered out the window at Sam’s trailer, partially visible through the trees. "Okay, it's probably a good idea to scout out the other campers before nightfall anyway."

  After pulling on their coats and boots, they made their way outside. Blair stopped to inhale the pine-scented, rain-drenched earth. The ground always smelled lush after a good soaking, releasing the best of itself in return for the refreshment it had enjoyed. A faint hint of charred timber from the scorched mountainside hung in the air. She peered up at the sky searching for a hint of blue, but the iron cast hue overhead sent a clear message that the rain would be back with a vengeance. They needed to make the most of this brief respite to explore their surroundings.

  She reached for Matt’s hand and together they walked down from their campsite to the muddy road. Hopefully a little touch therapy would take his anxiety down a notch or two.

  "That hiking trail over there leads up to a lake." Blair pointed to a wooden trail marker. "Might be good fishing, but it’s probably too muddy to check it out today."

  "It’s going to start dumping again anyway," Matt grumbled.

  They glanced at Sam's trailer in passing, but there was no sign of him or Duke. Walking on, Blair cast a curious glance at the deserted-looking camper van in the site next to Sam’s rig.

  "Looks like they’ve been here a while," she observed.

  "No lights on or any other signs of life," Matt said. "That’s odd. I can’t imagine where someone would go in this weather. I don’t like it."

  "Maybe it’s a friend of Sam’s," Blair suggested in an overly patient tone. "They could be hanging out in his trailer."

  Matt grunted in response, as if to convey his skepticism that Sam had any friends.

  Continuing on, they passed an empty campsite, the weathered outhouse and water pump, and then the stylish trailer Blair had admired on the way in.

  "Someone’s home," she commented. "The generator’s running."

  They proceeded around the corner to the campsite where the young couple had been setting up earlier. The lights were on in the trailer and they could hear music playing.

  "We could stop by and introduce ourselves," Blair suggested, yearning for a bit of company to pass the long evening that lay ahead of them. "The woman gave us a friendly wave on the way in."

  Matt picked up his pace. "Too intrusive. We’ll bump into them out and about at some point anyway. Let’s turn around before it starts pelting down again."

  On their return trip, a tiny, fit-looking, gray-haired woman in Ugg boots, black yoga pants and a blush-colored sweatshirt exited the teardrop-shaped trailer and walked over to get something out of the Tahoe. She slammed the car door shut and straightened up, spotting Matt and Blair trudging along on the other side of the road.

  "Hi!" she yelled breezily, fluttering her fingers at them. "You must be the couple who pulled in a little bit ago."

  Blair tugged on Matt’s hand, and they crossed the road and walked up to the campsite to introduce themselves.

  "I'm Hazel," the woman chirped, gracing them with a warm smile. "Are you planning on staying here for a few nights?"

  "We were actually on our way to Black Rock," Blair explained, "but we had to abandon that plan when it started dumping. Matt didn't want to be driving another sixty miles in lashing rain."

  "I don't blame you one bit." Hazel cocked a motherly brow at Matt. "You're welcome to come in for a cup of tea or a glass of wine. I can’t imagine anyone’s going to start a fire this evening." She tilted her head back and assessed the sky. "Looks like we’ve got some more weather to look forward to."

  Blair pinned a searching look on Matt. "Up to you, if you're not too tired after driving." She was giving him an out if he needed it—secretly hoping he’d opt to be sociable and relax for a change. Hazel didn't come across as the type to set off any alarm bells.

  After a beat of silence, Matt answered with a shrug. "Sure, we’ll stop in for a few minutes."

  Blair rewarded him with a broad smile. Evidently, his earlier paranoia concerning their camping companions had subsided, or at least he was making an effort to put it behind him.

  "I’ve been craving some company," Hazel admitted, winking at them as she led the way up the steps to her trailer.

  "This is absolutely gorgeous!" Blair exclaimed as she removed her boots at the door.

  "Well-constructed too," Matt said admiringly, running his fingers over the riveted door seam.

  "Thanks, feel free to take a look around," Hazel offered.

  "Is this a custom interior?" Blair asked, as she and Matt checked out the stylish appointments and layout.

  "Semi-custom. I bought it new," Hazel replied, gesturing for her to take a seat at the small dining table. "I fell in love with the design the minute I saw it. I didn't want something ugly if I was going to be spending any length of time in it."

  "I take it you do a lot of camping?" Matt said, sitting down next to Blair.

  Hazel laughed. "I do now. I'm a retired nurse. I rented out my home and I've been traveling for the past year-and-a-half." She reached for the sunflower yellow kettle on the stove top. "Would you prefer tea, or perhaps a glass of homemade blueberry wine?"

  "Tea would be great," Blair responded.

  "Tea for me too, please," Matt added.

  Alcohol was something they’d both avoided ever since Matt’s diagnosis. It was sort of an unwritten rule between them that they would remain teetotalers, at least as long as he was working on his recovery, which Blair was beginning to fear might take a lifetime.

  "Have you visited all lower forty-eight states yet?" Blair asked.

  Hazel gave a wry grin as she filled the kettle. "The truth is, I haven't made it very far at all. I'm writing a book—trying to at least."

  Matt raised his brows. "What's it about?"

  "Holistic self-care and homeopathic ways to treat disease—ways the government doesn’t want you to know about."

  Blair could feel Matt tensing at her side, his stranger radar suddenly on full alert.

  A shadow passed over Hazel’s face as she sat back down at the table. "My younger sister passed away of pancreatic cancer several years ago. She was only forty-eight. An excruciating death. Not one I’d wish on anyone. I've always been interested in homeopathic medicine, but after she died, I went all in. I forage for plants and herbs and make my own tinctures now. As a former nurse, I’m sick of watching people die."

  "I’m sorry," Blair said quietly. "That must have been very hard to lose your sister so young."

  "It was," Hazel acknowledged, tucking a stray gray curl behind her ear. "But I’m determined to finish this book and dedicate it to her. That way something good will have come out of her suffering."

  The kettle boiled and Hazel got up to make the tea. She set three steaming mugs down on the table, and then reached for a Tupperware container of cookies and peeled off the lid. "Do
n't worry, these are healthy. Almond flour, coconut oil, and no sugar."

  Matt eyed them dubiously. "No sugar, how does that work?"

  "Try one," Hazel urged. "You won’t even notice it’s missing. I use stevia to replace it—it’s a plant-based sugar substitute."

  Matt reached for a cookie and took a bite. He raised his brows approvingly. "They’re not half bad."

  Hazel and Blair exchanged an amused look. Blair had already decided she liked this quirky older woman. That was the thing about camping. You always ran into interesting people and they all had a story.

  "So what are you two doing out here mid-week in April?" Hazel asked.

  Matt stopped chewing and reached for his mug, leaving Blair to answer the question.

  "Matt just finished his military active duty, and we’re starting up a landscaping business together. I’m a landscape architect," Blair said. "We decided to take a few months off to travel round the States first. Everyone keeps telling us we won’t have time later when we’re trying to grow a business and raise a family, so we thought why not, it’s now or never."

  Hazel nodded, casting a perceptive glance across at Matt. "Military, huh?"

  Blair had a feeling she suspected there was more to the story. Hopefully, she wouldn’t pry.

  "Have you met any of the other campers yet?" Matt asked, eliminating any opportunity for Hazel to probe further.

  "Of course!" She chuckled. "As you’ve seen, I make a habit of introducing myself to everyone. The young couple next to me pulled in right before you got here—Whitney and Logan. I actually bumped into them this morning at a gas station and told them about this place. They were looking for somewhere quiet and off the beaten track. I tried to lure them over here earlier with my homemade cookies, but he wasn’t having any part of it. They’re on their honeymoon, so I suspect we won't be seeing much of them."

  "What about Sam, the guy with the German shepherd? Have you talked to him?" Matt went on.

  Hazel gave a pensive nod. "Now that's a sad story. He arrived here shortly after me. He’s a free climber—you know, one of those extreme athletes. He lost his climbing buddy, Andy, a couple of months back in a terrible accident. He fell to his death. Sam was the one who found the body."

  Blair threw a horrified glance at Matt. No wonder Sam had struck her as melancholic—the poor guy was grieving the tragic loss of his climbing partner. "That's so sad. He must be really broken up about it."

  "The worst thing about it is that he has survivor’s guilt," Hazel rambled on. "They were tied together when they fell. The rope snapped, but somehow Sam landed on a ledge and didn't go down all the way."

  Matt lifted his mug and took a hearty swig of tea, trying to mask his emotions. Blair could see a flicker of guilt in his expression. He’d totally misjudged Sam. Matt knew better than anyone what it felt like to lose a buddy you had risked life and limb with.

  "What about the camper van?" Blair prodded. "It doesn't look like there are any lights on, or any signs of life."

  Hazel threaded her fingers through her shoulder-length gray curls. "Haven’t seen anyone go in or out. Sam says there’s a group of hunters tent camping up by the lake about a mile or so from here. Maybe the owner’s with them."

  "We should get back before the rain starts up again," Matt said, setting down his mug. "Thanks for the tea, Hazel."

  "You’re welcome. It was a pleasure to meet you both, and I'm sure I'll see you out and about tomorrow."

  "She’s friendly," Blair said as they walked back down to the road.

  "Nosy, you mean. Asks way too many questions," Matt muttered. "In everyone’s business already. And a conspiracy theorist to boot. You heard what she said about the government. She’s a kook."

  Blair decided not to grace his comments with a response. Granted, Hazel had a bit of a hippy flair in her approach to life, but she’d been nothing but fun and friendly as far as Blair was concerned.

  They were almost back at their trailer when they heard the sound of a vehicle approaching from behind. They stepped to one side to let an older model RV go by. Blair raised a hand and waved at the couple inside. The woman kept her eyes forward, a pinched look on her face, but the man raised a meaty paw and waved back.

  "This place is getting more popular by the minute," Blair remarked.

  "Only because there’s nowhere else to stop between here and Black Rock," Matt said, watching the RV lumber on down the root-ridden dirt road. "She didn’t look too happy about it. At this rate, they’ll just about get that rig parked before it's too dark to see what they're doing."

  They continued retracing their steps to their trailer, slowing their pace when they reached the campsite next to the outhouse where the new arrivals were attempting to back in their RV. Blair and Matt watched in silence as the man drove backward and forward trying to position the thirty-foot RV between the fire pit and the trees.

  "Poor guy’s struggling." Matt shook his head. "And his wife’s no help. I’d better go guide him in."

  "Good idea," Blair replied.

  Matt made his way over and spoke a few words to the man through the slider window on the driver side. Afterward he took up a position at the back of the campsite and directed the stranger as he began backing in once again. After a couple of attempts, he was finally in position.

  Blair walked over and stood next to her husband, waiting to greet the couple. To her surprise, the woman threw them a scant glance and then disappeared into the back of the RV. A moment later, the man came down the steps and stuck out a burly hand. Tall, bearded, and broad-shouldered, he looked to be in his sixties. "Appreciate the help. I’m Harvey Ross." He gestured over his shoulder. "My wife, Sandy, went to lie down." He hesitated. "She’s not feeling well."

  "That’s too bad. I hope she feels better soon," Blair said. "If we can help with anything, we’re just around the corner in the gray and silver trailer."

  Harvey gave a tight smile. "Thanks."

  "Need any help getting your rig leveled?" Matt asked. "Doesn’t look like you have automatic stabilizers. Got any wedges or leveling blocks?"

  Harvey frowned and scratched his head. "Blocks … let me see, I’ll have to ask Sandy where she put them." He climbed back inside and made his way to the bedroom at the rear.

  Matt shook his head in a bewildered fashion. "Weird. He can’t park his rig and he can’t remember where his gear is. Maybe he’s starting to lose it."

  Harvey reappeared several minutes later and made his way back down the steps. "Sandy thinks they’re in the storage compartment on this side." He unlocked the hatch and rummaged around inside before producing the plastic leveling blocks.

  "I’m going to leave you two guys to finish up here while I head back to start dinner," Blair said. "Nice to meet you, Harvey."

  She smiled to herself as she strolled back to her trailer. Nothing like a little male bonding over a project. Maybe this detour would prove beneficial for Matt after all.

  Blair had just finished adding the vegetables she’d chopped into the wok with some chicken, when Matt arrived back. "Are they all settled in?"

  Matt kicked off his boots and threw himself down on the couch. "They are now. That guy doesn’t know what he’s doing. I finally had to take the wheel and drive the RV up on the blocks for him."

  "What about his wife?" Blair asked. "Did you get to meet her?"

  Matt’s expression darkened. "We might have another crazy neighbor on our hands. She never came out to introduce herself, but she can’t have been that sick. I caught her peeking through the curtain at me when I was leaving."

  3

  Blair frowned to herself as she stirred the chicken and vegetables around in the pan. Sandy’s abrupt disappearance had seemed a bit rude but, in all fairness, Harvey had explained that she wasn't feeling well. "Just because Sandy was looking out the window at you doesn't mean she's crazy, Matt. Curious would be a better word."

  "She was spying on me. Don’t you find it odd that she didn’t even come out to
say hello? I don’t think she’s sick at all."

  "Maybe she’s agoraphobic," Blair said with a shrug.

  Matt grunted. "Just a fancier term for crazy."

  Biting back her frustration, Blair set down the ladle with a clatter and joined Matt on the couch. She reached for his hand and released a tired breath. "Surely you, above all people, should have some empathy for her. Whether she's agoraphobic, or recovering from some illness or another, she's obviously not up to meeting people. You understand that feeling better than most. Why are you being so hard on her?"

  Matt groaned and slid down on the couch. "I don't wanna be around any more crazy people. I've seen enough screwed up soldiers to last me a lifetime. People are unpredictable when they’re messed up. I just need the rest of the population to be normal." He scratched at his shoulder, not meeting her gaze. "That’s what this camping trip was supposed to be about—normalizing things. Seems like everyone we’ve met here so far is damaged goods."

  "They’re not so different from us, then. We have our issues too. You need to start trusting a little more—give people the benefit of the doubt before you judge them. Like Sam—poor guy."

  Blair leaned over and kissed Matt on the lips, before getting up to check on their dinner. She did a quick taste test and then turned off the gas. "Stir fry’s ready. Why don't you grab the soy sauce and some sparkling water?"

  Matt dragged himself to his feet and set the table while Blair busied herself ladling out a plateful of stir fry for each of them. "We can still leave first thing in the morning, if you want," she said, as they sat down to eat.

  Matt swallowed a mouthful of food and nodded. "Let’s do that. This place is getting crowded."

  Blair bolted upright in bed, rubbing her eyes in confusion as she looked around. At first, she thought she was dreaming, but the loud thumping on the trailer door wasn’t a figment of her imagination. Scrabbling for her phone, she peered at the screen, bleary-eyed. Six-fifteen in the morning. She stumbled out of her sleeping bag, inadvertently elbowing Matt in the process. He stirred and shifted onto one elbow, blinking uncomprehendingly at her. As soon as the pounding on the door registered in his brain, he yanked at the zipper on his bag and leapt to his feet. "Who’s there?" he demanded.