by Laura Wolfe
“How did she die?” I asked.
Kaitlyn shrugged. “I don’t know. It only mentioned ‘suspicious circumstances.’ Maybe it was an accident. I meant to find out more about it, but Julia had an emergency with some cookies she was making. I’m talking smoke billowing out of the oven. She’s really into baking right now. I forgot to go back and look up more information.”
“I wonder what the suspicious circumstances were,” I said.
Jenna touched her fabric headband and sighed. “Oh man. So that whole camp is sitting empty? Her family probably sued the owners.”
“Spoken like a lawyer,” Kaitlyn said as the rest of us chuckled.
Sam straightened up in her seat. “Wait. There’s a deserted camp sitting across from our cabin out in the middle of nowhere? And someone just died there under suspicious circumstances?”
Charlotte glanced toward her. “That’s what it sounds like.”
Sam adjusted her sunglasses atop her head. “This is terrifying. Why didn’t I know about this?”
“You should never leave the planning to us,” Jenna said with a playful wink.
Sam couldn’t help but smile, although I noticed a sheen of sweat across her upper lip. “You’re right. I should have known better. Can we talk about something else?”
Kaitlyn pointed ahead, attempting to get everyone back on track. “Okay. So when we get to the next road, we’ll take a left instead of a right. The cabin is across the lake from the camp.”
Charlotte nodded. “Sounds good. See? Who needs GPS when we have Kaitlyn?”
A few minutes later, guided by Kaitlyn’s directions, we turned down a long, winding dirt driveway. My stomach churned with a mixture of nausea and hunger. Jenna lowered her window and breathed in the mossy air, a smile stretching across her face. “Is this what fresh air smells like?”
Just as I was enjoying the sing-song melody of chirping birds and the refreshing breeze, a shot cracked through the serenity of the woods. A second one followed. My muscles jerked, and Charlotte hit the brakes.
“What was that?”
“It sounded like gunshots.” Charlotte looked back at us.
Jenna’s fingers gripped her seat belt. “Holy crap!”
“Maybe someone is hunting.” Dread tunneled through me.
“Wonderful.”
This cabin in the woods was already giving me a bad vibe. I was trapped in the back of the minivan, hours away from my family. The air thickened around me, my muscles cramping. I wanted to go home. I kicked myself for not offering to host. Andrew could have taken the kids to his mom’s house for the weekend. My friends and I could be sitting on our back patio with music and laughter floating through my fenced-in backyard instead of gunshots.
Charlotte crouched behind the steering wheel, guiding the minivan up the long driveway.
“I thought there wasn’t going to be anyone else around,” I said.
Kaitlyn shook her head. “The website said the owner lives down the street, but his house is over a half-mile away. I emailed him a few questions last week before Charlotte sent the payment. He only responded that he’d leave the front door unlocked.”
Charlotte nodded. “Yeah. He emailed me a copy of the house rules—all pretty straightforward. Don’t worry. We don’t have to see him at all unless there’s a problem.”
The minivan rolled up to the cabin, and all talking ceased. I gasped at the sight of the dilapidated structure. Even chatty Jenna failed to produce words. The wooden cabin bore only a vague resemblance to the building in the photos, like a long-lost sibling who’d fallen on hard times and lived a much more difficult life. The cabin wasn’t rustic and quaint; it was a dump. Cobwebs covered the corners of the windows. A broken piece of wood siding dangled down from the outer wall. The place was falling apart. A thick layer of moss grew across the shingled roof, and cracked steps led to the front door. The deck was suffering from wood rot. The pots of red geraniums that had popped vibrantly from the photos on the website were nowhere in sight.
Charlotte turned off the ignition, staring straight ahead. “Tell me this isn’t the right place.”
Sam blinked her thick black eyelashes. “This doesn’t look anything like the photos.”
“Maybe the inside is better,” Kaitlyn said, but the high pitch of her voice was hollow.
Jenna exited the minivan. I slipped out after her, sucking in a breath and appreciating the solid ground beneath my feet. I stretched out my cramped legs and stumbled across the gravel driveway in my strappy sandals. My eyes were drawn forward, past a steep, wooded drop-off leading to a lake. Crooked Lake spread out below us, glittering and beautiful. I blinked at the sight, so spectacular in contrast to the drab cabin. At least the information about the private lake had been accurate. Nothing but trees rimmed the shoreline. The surface of the cobalt water rippled in the wind, stealing my breath. Maybe this view would make up for the disappointing accommodations. As I stepped forward, my toes bumped against something soft and warm.
I jumped and screamed. A dead squirrel stared up at me, its tiny hands stretched upward, its eyes vacant. A circle of blood seeped into its fur. I stumbled to the side, trying to erase the sensation of the warm body against my bare skin. Someone had shot it.
Chapter Four
“What kind of person shoots a squirrel?” Jenna stood next to me with her eyebrows furrowed. “This little guy wasn’t hurting anything.”
I looked away from the murdered animal. “This is so messed up.”
Sam and Kaitlyn wavered next to us.
“Just leave it, you guys. It might have rabies.” Charlotte eyed a dirt path that led over the wooded hill. “The owner was probably here.”
“Is this his idea of housekeeping?” I followed Charlotte’s gaze toward the trees. No one else was around.
Charlotte bit her lower lip as her eyes flickered across us. “Sorry. I didn’t know this place was going to be like this. Hopefully whoever did this will stay away from the cabin now that we’re here.”
I nodded, not wanting to make Charlotte feel bad. The property's condition wasn’t her fault, even though we’d chosen the cabin because she wanted to save money. The photos of the vacation property had been stunning, and no one had argued with the price. We’d all reviewed the same listing for the rental, and we’d all agreed on renting the secluded cabin.
Kaitlyn stretched her arms as she surveyed the cabin. “Yeah. Let’s unload our stuff. We’ll have to make the best of it.”
“Do you hate me right now?” Charlotte asked Kaitlyn, whose mouth had turned down.
Kaitlyn’s head snapped up as if she’d woken from a trance. “What? No. Of course not! I could never be mad at the person who introduced me to my husband.”
“I’m good for something.” Charlotte offered a sheepish grin and Kaitlyn squeezed her. Charlotte had invited Derek to one of our house parties during our junior year. Every time we got together Kaitlyn made a big deal of thanking Charlotte for her matchmaking skills.
We grabbed our suitcases and headed through the front door. Jenna walked in front of me, favoring her left leg. Sweat gathered in my armpits as I tried not to think of the accident back in college.
I tore my gaze away from her uneven stride, finding myself standing in a dim living room. A hint of lemon cut through the musty air. Someone had attempted to clean the rustic space. A red plaid couch and matching love seat surrounded a worn coffee table. A wicker rocking chair sat in the corner, displaying a cross-stitched cushion with a blocky red heart above the words HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS. A fireplace with a stone mantel covered most of the far wall. There was no TV, not even the old, boxy kind with an antenna. A deer head stared down at me from the opposite side of the room.
I turned away, missing the warmth of my own living room and wishing I hadn’t agreed to four nights away. I’d crossed paths with two dead animals in under five minutes. “This place gives me the creeps.”
Jenna pulled her suitcase close to her legs, gawking at the surroundings. “W
here are we? We should have read the reviews more carefully.”
“I did read them carefully,” I said. “I assumed the bad ones were from miserable people. Most of the reviews were positive. They raved about the lake, mostly. No one mentioned that the roof is rotting away or that dead squirrels fall from trees as you arrive.”
Jenna chuckled.
“At least it’s clean.” Kaitlyn was in the kitchen, peering into a white refrigerator. “It could be worse.”
Charlotte lowered her chin as her eyes darted around the living room. “Sorry about this. I had no idea. Maybe we can get our money back if we complain.”
Jenna waved her away. “Nah. We’ll make it work. It’ll be an adventure.”
“Yeah. It’s not like there’s anyplace else to stay around here,” I said.
Jenna kicked the floor and smiled. “Something tells me this is one weekend we’ll never forget.”
“That’s for sure,” Sam added, hugging her arms in front of herself. “We’ll have good stories to tell when we get home.”
I observed my friends who hunched together, silent. Despite the reassuring words coming out of their mouths, their faces twitched, and their gazes avoided one another. Panic rose inside me. My lungs constricted, making it difficult to breathe. I recognized the sensations as the onset of a panic attack. It was the same feeling I’d had in the back of the minivan, but now that my nausea had faded, the terror was even more pronounced. The cabin walls were closing in on me. My body told me to run, but I couldn’t move. The therapist in me could have diagnosed the condition in someone else immediately, but it took a few seconds longer to see it in myself. I needed to focus on something I could control and to get some fresh air.
“I’ll go get the wine.” I turned away and forced my heavy legs through the kitchen door and onto the rotting deck. Once I reached the minivan, I averted my eyes from the lifeless squirrel and sucked in the woodsy breeze. The sound of lapping waves pulled me off course. My eyes traveled toward the lake and across the bobbing waves, landing on an empty rectangle of beach on the far shore. The early evening sky cast a gray light over the sand. Besides the sandy area, only trees were visible beyond the water. The beach must have been part of the abandoned summer camp. Happy memories of my own childhood experiences at a different sleepaway camp fluttered through me.
My shoulders straightened, and I found my breath again. I turned away from the shimmering water and opened the back of Charlotte’s van, pulling out the box of wine and lugging it toward the cabin. The glass bottles clinked together with each step. My stomach rumbled, and I wondered if Andrew had fed Marnie and Wyatt yet. It must be getting late. I’d forgotten to tell him about the leftover mac and cheese in the fridge. I set down the load and dug my phone out of my pocket, finding no reception. I wrote a text to Andrew anyway and pressed send. A second later, a notification popped up; the message was undeliverable. I sighed, shoving the phone back in my pocket and closing the back of the minivan.
As I bent to lift the box, a shadow shifted in my peripheral vision. I paused, leaning forward and squinting. Was it the person who’d shot the squirrel? The owner of the cabin? Or someone else? I watched and waited as my heart hammered in my chest, searching for someone with a rifle hiding in the trees. Only a black crow flapped its wings and cawed, flying away from a nearby branch. I exhaled, my arms dropping to my sides—stupid crow. I’d freaked myself out and I was imagining things that weren’t there.
I shook away my paranoia and continued carrying the box into the kitchen, where I stashed a few bottles of white in the refrigerator. Thumping footsteps and loud conversation sounded from upstairs. I moved toward the commotion.
Charlotte met me at the top of the stairs, holding my suitcase. A mischievous look flashed across her face, an expression I’d seen her make so many times in college whenever she couldn’t wait to tell me something. “Looks like you and I are roommates. Jenna’s got the bed across the hall, and Sam and Kaitlyn are in the master bedroom.” Charlotte made quotes with her fingers as she said the word “master.”
“Sounds good.” I climbed the narrow wooden staircase and followed Charlotte into a small bedroom on the left with two twin beds covered in yellow-flowered quilts. I pulled back the covers on the bed closest to me, relieved to find crisp, white linens. I peered further into the sheets, searching for signs of spiders or bed bugs, but didn’t see anything. When I looked up, Charlotte was standing with her hands on her hips, watching me.
“Are you okay?” she asked. “You look a little pale.”
“Oh. Yeah. I’m fine. I think I just got some motion sickness on the way up.”
She stepped closer. “I’m sorry this cabin isn’t the greatest, but hopefully we can make it work. It’s only for a few nights.”
I heard the note of guilt in Charlotte’s voice and loosened my shoulders. “It looked so different online. It’s not your fault.”
I meant what I said, even though Charlotte had been the one who pushed for something affordable. She and Reed both had professional careers, but she was excited about their upcoming trip to Europe. It wasn’t my place to question her financial decisions. Besides, Jenna had wanted to escape city life for a few days and this place fit her requirements too. We’d all thought it was a good choice. I didn’t want Charlotte to think any of us blamed the accommodations squarely on her. She’d been nice enough to drive both Kaitlyn and me up here and pick the others up from the airport. It wasn’t a five-star hotel, but we had high standards because we were spoiled. I thought of the last trip Andrew and I had taken together almost a year ago. We’d gone to San Francisco and stayed at The Ritz. I could deal with a run-down cabin for four nights.
“Yeah. We’ll make it work. We’re all together. That’s the important thing.”
Charlotte’s face softened.
“And if we drink enough wine, none of us will notice, anyway.” I shoved my bag toward the wall with my foot. “I’m starving. Should we make some food?”
“Good idea.”
Thirty minutes later, we sat in a semicircle on the sturdiest part of the deck, drinking wine from glasses we’d found in the cupboard, and eating cheese and crackers while we waited for the frozen pizza to cook. Jenna had located a broom and swept the debris and cobwebs away. The sun sank lower on the horizon, an orange ball against a pink sky glowing through the trees.
“It’s pretty out here, isn’t it?” Jenna gazed out toward the lake. “I almost had a heart attack when we first pulled up.”
We nodded in agreement. Now that we’d gotten settled, the rustic cabin wasn’t so bad. The moss and spiderwebs had all but disappeared in the dwindling light.
Our moment of silence was followed up by a solid hour of non-stop talking and laughing, just like old times. We only paused to refill wineglasses, remove the pizza from the oven, and dole out a pre-made salad onto some paper plates. Kaitlyn pulled out her phone and showed off photos of her three girls, Julia, Peyton, and Maddie, who looked like mini versions of their mom, all tall and thin with ivory skin and silky auburn hair. The photos started a chain reaction, with everyone locating pictures on their phones. When Sam handed me her phone, I studied her sons, who shared her brilliant white smile and tufts of black hair against tawny complexions as they proudly held up their Lego creations. Another photo showed Sam’s husband, Thomas, hiking up the side of a mountain. Sam had met Thomas when she was in medical school. None of us knew him well, but he was soft-spoken and had kind eyes. Sam always spoke highly of him, as if she’d won the husband lottery. Charlotte shared a photo of Oliver gripping the steering wheel of the minivan during his first driving lesson. I wished Charlotte luck, finding it impossible to imagine my young ones in the same position in a few years. When it was Jenna’s turn, she flashed photos of her dog, a black lab mix named Rufus, who she’d rescued from the shelter, as well as a posh new condo she’d purchased in Brooklyn. I showed off my kids, too, catching everyone up on Marnie and Wyatt’s swim lessons and art projects.
“He’s good. He’s coaching Wyatt’s soccer team this fall. And he likes his job.” I slumped forward and cleared my throat. Not able to tell the rest. We’d hit a rough patch recently, and my voice dried up whenever the conversation turned to Andrew.
Charlotte set her paper plate on the rickety table in front of us. “And everything’s good between the two of you?”
“Yeah. I mean, we have our ups and downs, but who doesn’t?” I forced a smile, pressing my back into the metal chair. There was so much more to say, but my insides compressed, trapping the truth like a clenched fist. I wasn’t ready to loosen the grip, even among friends. Otherwise, I would have to tell them how the resentment had grown between Andrew and me after Wyatt had been born. I’d been quick to criticize him, and he’d been slow to help. Andrew rarely kissed me or complimented me. There were no surprises, no dinners out, no flowers. To avoid confrontation, I’d retreated into my work while he’d chosen his phone. We ate dinner side-by-side, watching TV. I didn’t feel appreciated or loved. Sometimes I stayed at work extra-late just to avoid him, even though it meant less time with my children. I was a failure at marriage and commitment. I was a family therapist who didn’t know how to communicate with her husband in any productive way.
“Yeah. Who doesn’t have marital problems?” Charlotte chuckled, but there was an edge to her laugh. I remained quietly confused, remembering the way Reed had kissed her.
The rest of us had stayed unmarried and focused on graduate school and careers after college, but Charlotte, who’d always been flirtatious and boy crazy, had been married and pregnant by the age of twenty-four. She and her first husband divorced four years later. Then she dated a long string of men before landing on Reed eight years ago. Charlotte was the only one of us with a teenager. She’d stayed home with Oliver when he was young but had gone back to school when Oliver was in elementary school. Around the time of our last get-together five years ago, Charlotte had earned her certification as a physical therapist. Now she described how her long hours at the medical center had become her life. She placed a hand on her stomach. “I don’t have time to exercise anymore. And my diet’s obviously not working.”