Shadow Creek

by Joy Fielding

  “Proud I’m such a good swimmer?”

  “Proud you’re such a good you. I want to be just like you when I grow up.”

  Little Valerie giggled. “You’re silly.”

  “I adore you,” her mother said.

  “I adore you.”

  “Then go to bed. Get some sleep.”

  “Aren’t you going to bed?”

  “In a little while.”

  Valerie suddenly became aware of the bottle on the table and her mother’s half-empty glass. “What’s that?”

  “Just a little something to help me sleep.”

  “Can I have some?”

  “No. You don’t need this stuff, Valerie. You’re a strong girl. Strong enough to swim seventy-four lengths. You’re going to rule the world.”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Yes, you are. And I’m going to watch you.”

  So when had her mother stopped watching? When Val was ten, thirteen, fifteen, twenty-one? When had a little something to help her sleep become a little something to help her through the day, then something more, and something more again, until it was everything? When had she started sleeping until three o’clock each afternoon, and slurring her words, and tripping over her own feet when she was awake? When had she started falling down, and worse, staying down?

  “Please, Mom. You need to see a doctor,” Val had insisted when she was still denying the obvious, even making the appointment herself when her mother refused, then making another one when she failed to show up for the first. “I think maybe she might have a brain tumor,” she’d told her father, freshly returned from honeymooning with his new wife.

  “She doesn’t have a brain tumor,” her father had said, laughing dismissively. “She has a hangover.”

  “What are you talking about? She doesn’t drink that much.”

  “Open your eyes,” her father said, effectively ending the discussion and leaving her standing at the front door.

  “Well, you shouldn’t have just shown up like that,” her sister had argued when Val filled her in later on what happened. “You should have called him first.”

  “Why should I have to call him? He’s our father.”

  “You know he doesn’t like surprises.”

  “I think you’re missing the point here, Allison.”

  “The point being …?”

  “Dad is implying our mother is an alcoholic.”

  “I don’t think he’s implying anything. I think he’s saying it outright.”

  “And you’re saying … what? That you agree with him?”

  Allison met Val’s question with a shrug and a defeated shake of her head.

  “He didn’t even invite me into the house,” Val said. “Told me they were in the middle of dinner.”

  “Should have called first.”

  “Why are you always defending him?”

  “Why are you always attacking him?”

  “I’m not attacking him.”

  “What is it you expect the man to do, Valerie? They’re divorced.”

  “Did he divorce us, too?”

  “What are you talking about? Don’t be ridiculous. He didn’t leave us. He left her.”

  “Her is our mother,” Val reminded her sister.

  “Well, her has a major drinking problem.”

  The words hit Val like a sucker punch to the solar plexus, brought tears to her eyes. “At least she didn’t abandon us.”

  “Didn’t she?” Allison asked coldly.

  Was that the defining moment, the moment the two sisters could point to later as the precise instant the invisible lines of loyalty were drawn in the sand and the sides were irrevocably chosen, the moment they understood they’d lost not only their parents but each other as well?

  What difference did it make? Val wondered now, feeling herself being pulled back into the present. Over the years, nothing had really changed. Allison was still fighting for their father’s approval; Val was still fighting for their mother’s sobriety. Both were losing battles.

  “Val?” a voice interjected, sending her fragile family scattering in all directions. “Val, are you okay? What’s happening?”

  Val looked toward Jennifer, momentarily surprised to see her behind the wheel of her SUV, then remembered having taken her up on her offer to drive. “Nothing. I’m fine. Just frustrated. I’ll be okay.”

  She felt James’s hand on her shoulder. “So, what do we do now?” he asked from the crowded backseat as the SUV pulled into the campground’s parking lot.

  “We do what the man said,” Gary answered. “We go to the office, we sit, and we wait.”

  “For how long?” Val was restless already. “I can’t just sit here all day and wait for something to happen.”

  “I don’t think we have any choice,” Gary said.

  “I don’t think you know Val very well,” Melissa said with a smile as they climbed out of the car.

  “Maybe Evan’s here.” Jennifer looked hopefully around the parking lot for his black Jaguar, but it was nowhere in evidence. “I’ll try his lines again,” she said as they entered the office. “I mean, this is crazy. Why isn’t he answering his phone? Why hasn’t he returned my messages?”

  Gary held back. “I’m going to go check on Hayden.”

  “Of course,” Val said, watching him leave.

  Carolyn Murray was standing behind the reception counter in pretty much the same posture and position as when they’d last seen her. The frown on her face hadn’t altered; the coffee stain on her shirt was still there. Only a slight stiffening of her shoulders convinced Val she was real, and not made of wood.

  “I’m afraid we’re going to have to impose on your hospitality a little more,” Val began.

  “Yes, so I hear. Mike Jones called.”

  “Has something happened? Have they found my daughter?”

  “Not as far as I know. He said he’d be checking in with you periodically, so you can either wait here or at your tents. I can send someone to get you when he calls.”

  “We’ll wait here,” Jennifer said for all of them. It was obvious that the last thing she wanted was to return to those damn tents. “Can I use the phone?” she asked, lifting the receiver of the rotary phone and proceeding to dial Evan’s number without waiting for Carolyn’s okay. Seconds later, she slammed the phone down in disgust. “I got his voice mail again. What do you think it means, that he isn’t answering his phone?”

  Val said nothing. She could think of any number of things it might mean but decided it was best to stay silent. Jennifer would no doubt discover those things soon enough without any help from her.

  And maybe he was really busy, Val thought, trying to give Evan the benefit of the doubt. Maybe his latest deal really had been about to blow sky-high, maybe he really had been working round the clock to salvage it, and maybe he really was at this very moment driving like a maniac around the twists and turns of Prospect Mountain, the white knight in his black Jaguar, rushing in to save the day, even though that day would likely be over by the time he got here.

  Typical, she thought. Hadn’t she been waiting almost two decades for him to rush in? And he still wasn’t here. He was still taking detours.

  And she was still waiting.

  What’s wrong with me? Val wondered.

  You’re just a stupid little girl, came the familiar taunt.

  You certainly are not, her mother’s voice immediately countered. You’re a strong girl. Strong enough to swim seventy-four lengths. You’re going to rule the world.

  When had her world gotten so small?

  Val leaned against the wall, trying to figure out her next move. She checked her watch, then checked it again. Not even lunchtime and already she was exhausted.

  “You’re not going to pass out, are you?” Carolyn asked, watching her from behind the counter.

  “I’m not going to pass out,” Val affirmed. Haven’t you heard? I’m strong. I swam seventy-four lengths. I’m going to rule the world.
r />   “SHE STILL ASLEEP?” Henry asked impatiently as Nikki returned from the bedroom.

  “Snoring like a little piglet.”

  “Shit. How many of those pills did you put in that tea?”

  “I don’t know. Just a couple.”

  “The point was to relax her, not knock her out.”

  “Yeah, well, suppose next time you be a little clearer about what exactly the point is,” Nikki argued, trying to put a lid on her growing anger. She’d never lost her temper with him before. Of course, he’d never given her any cause to lose it. Until now.

  Until this girl came into the picture.

  “Look. I didn’t mean to go off on you before,” he was saying. “It’s just really important we get our stories straight.”

  “How was I supposed to know you told her this was your cottage?”

  “What’d you think I was gonna tell her?”

  “I don’t know. How do you expect me to know anything if you don’t tell me?”

  “You should have seen the expression on her face when you said the cottage belonged to your grandmother.”

  “Well, she got me all flustered when she said she recognized me from the lodge. And then you said we’d been there for dinner. I had to think of something.”

  “You called me Kenny, for fuck’s sake!”

  “It just slipped out.”

  “You could have ruined everything.”

  “Ruined what exactly? What difference does it make what I call you? We’re gonna kill her anyway.” Nikki paused. “Aren’t we? Aren’t we gonna kill her?”

  “Of course we’re gonna kill her.” Henry ran an exasperated hand through his long hair. “Just not right away. We’re gonna have a little fun with her first. You know. Like we talked about.”

  “Like you talked about.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Kenny, please …”

  “The name is Henry.”

  “Henry. We don’t have time for this. You murdered a fucking park ranger. Sooner or later, they’re gonna come sniffing around here. We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Henry’s gaze flitted nervously around the room, stopping on the door to the bedroom where Brianne lay sleeping. “Okay. Okay. You’re probably right.”

  “I am right.”

  “Okay. I know.”

  “So what are we going to do with her?”

  “We’ll take her with us.”

  “What?”

  “We’ll take her with us,” he repeated, as if he actually thought she hadn’t heard him.

  “What are you talking about? That’s nuts.”

  “Why is it nuts? She’s unconscious. We’ll throw her in the trunk of the car, drive up to Lake Placid, find an empty cottage where we can relax and take our time with her.”

  “Since when do we take our time?”

  “Since this is a new experience. Brianne’s young, she’s pretty. She’s malleable.”

  “What’s that mean?”

  He sneered.

  Nikki might not have understood the word malleable but she understood the meaning of that sneer. It meant “dummy.” He might as well have screamed it.

  “You never know,” Henry was saying. “She might even decide she wants to join us. We could form, like, this whole group …”

  Oh, God, no. What was he saying? “So, what—I’m not enough for you anymore?”

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then cut the bullshit. I say we kill her now, and get the hell out of here.”

  “Come on, babe. She’s unconscious. What fun would there be in killing her when she’s out cold?”

  “A lot more fun than life in prison,” Nikki argued. “I’m telling you it’s not worth the risk.” Then, to placate him, “There’ll be other girls.”

  A slow smile crept back onto Henry’s lips. “You promise?”

  “I promise,” she said.

  “WHAT’D HE SAY?” Jennifer asked as Val lowered the phone’s receiver back into its old-fashioned carriage.

  “He said they went over Tyler’s car with a fine-tooth comb,” Val told the assembled group, “and there’s no sign that anyone has been hurt. No blood or anything …”

  “Thank God,” James said.

  “So that’s good news,” Melissa added.

  “The bad news is that the storm washed away any footprints, so Brianne and Tyler could be anywhere. They’re going to start searching the surrounding woods, but …”

  “But?” James asked.

  “Well, he didn’t say it, but I don’t think finding Brianne is their major concern. They’re more interested in finding out what happened to Henry Voight.”

  For a minute nobody said anything, no one giving voice to the thought they were all sharing: What if the disappearances were in some way connected?

  “Val, can I talk to you for a minute, please?” Gary said. He’d returned to the office a few minutes earlier, while Val was on the phone with Mike Jones, and had been standing by the door, waiting.

  Val followed him wordlessly outside, stopping on the bottom step when she saw Gary’s son, Hayden, sitting in the passenger seat of the white Buick parked a few feet away.

  “I’m leaving now. Taking Hayden back to Connecticut,” Gary explained before Val could ask. “There’s really nothing much we can do here at this point, and I want a doctor to check him out, make sure he doesn’t have a concussion.”

  “Of course. I understand completely.”

  “Hayden insists he doesn’t want to press charges …”

  Val suppressed a deep sigh of relief. “I’m really so sorry about everything.”

  “Me, too,” Gary said. Then, when both realized there was nothing more to say, “You’ll find her, Val.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “You’re fearless.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I’ll be in touch,” he said.

  “No, you won’t,” she whispered, watching him climb behind the wheel of his car and pull out of the parking lot, out of her life. And that was all right, she thought. Despite the way things had turned out, she was grateful for their brief time together. Gary had awakened something in her she’d thought was lost forever, shown her that not only could she be attractive to other men, but that she could be attracted to them. All she had to do was let it happen. All she had to do was let go of the recurring dream that was Evan. The impossible dream, she thought wistfully, imagining James belting out the song from the Broadway hit.

  Except the dream had become a nightmare.

  It wasn’t just time for a new dream, she decided, watching Gary’s car disappear in an explosion of dust. It was time to wake up.

  Val turned around, about to reenter the cabin when the door opened and Jennifer stepped outside, her face flushed.

  “What’s the matter?” Val asked.

  “I just remembered Henry said he had a place in the area.”

  “What?”

  “The man I met last night, the man pretending to be Henry Voight, he said he had a place around here.”

  “Did he say where?”

  “No. Just that it was close by. Where are you going?” she called as Val began racing toward her SUV.

  Val’s answer bounced off the gravel driveway and ricocheted off the nearby trees. She was through waiting. It was time to start swimming. “To find my daughter.”

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  DO YOU REALLY THINK this is such a good idea?” James was asking from his usual place in the backseat. “I mean, didn’t the park rangers say that we should stay put and let them handle it?”

  Val ignored the rhetorical question, speeding up the highway, her eyes on the alert for Tyler’s black Civic. Mike Jones had said it was only a few miles up the road from the campground.

  “He’s right. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” Melissa said from beside James.

  “Look,” Val said. “If you guys don’t want to come with me, that’s fine. I can stop the car right now …”


  “We’re not leaving you,” Jennifer said firmly from the seat beside her.

  “Of course we’re not leaving you,” Melissa echoed.

  “I was just suggesting we let the park rangers know what we’re doing,” James tried to explain. “You know, in case we need backup.”

  “I’m sure we’ll see some rangers when we get to Tyler’s car,” Val said, grateful her friends had opted for loyalty over common sense. She knew they thought she was being reckless and irrational, rushing off blindly, without a plan, without any idea where she was going or what she was going to do when she got there. She also knew they were absolutely right. Still, she couldn’t just sit around and do nothing when her daughter might be in jeopardy. Sitting around waiting for things to happen had gotten her precisely nowhere.

  Still …

  She should probably listen to her friends, turn the car around, go back to the camp. The rangers were doubtlessly already canvassing all the cottages in the area. Although if the man pretending to be Henry Voight had lied about being a ranger, he’d probably lied about having a place nearby. On the other hand, if he actually did own property in the vicinity, it was doubtless better to let the professionals investigate, instead of having a bunch of amateurs running around like chickens with their heads cut off. She wasn’t being fearless. She was being stupid.

  “There’s the car,” Jennifer suddenly shouted, pointing toward the black Honda nose-dived in a ditch by the side of the road.

  “I don’t see any rangers,” James said as Val pulled her SUV to a stop behind the old Civic and turned off the engine.

  “They’ve probably sent for a tow truck,” Melissa said as they emerged from the car, four doors opening and slamming shut in unison.

  Val approached Tyler’s car slowly, peering into the window of the driver’s side, hoping to spot her daughter curled up asleep in the backseat, then opening the car door when she saw nothing.

  “Should you be doing that?” James glanced over his shoulder at the steady parade of oncoming cars.

  “Probably not.” Val’s eyes scanned the interior of the car for any sign of Brianne, her nose sniffing at the stale air for traces of her daughter’s scent.