Her Best Friend's Lie

by Laura Wolfe

  I followed the direction of her finger up to the ceiling. My heart somersaulted. A black line screamed out from the white paint. It was the spot Jenna had scraped with the iron poker before she smashed it over Travis’s head. We hadn’t looked up since it happened. We hadn’t noticed the mark.

  “I don’t know,” Jenna said with a shrug. “We saw that when we got here. No worries, though. It doesn’t bother us.”

  Jenna’s acting experience was paying off. She lied like a champ, and I could have hugged her.

  “Yeah. It’s no problem,” Charlotte added.

  Marlene’s features tightened as if she was working out a math problem in her head. She lowered her gaze and stepped back.

  The man clutched his rifle. “I guess we’ll keep lookin’ for him.”

  Kaitlyn smiled. “I’m sure he’ll turn up.”

  The man grunted and turned away, and the woman followed. I thought they were leaving, but Marlene flipped around and peeked through the doorway again. “Wasn’t there five of you staying here?”

  “Huh?” Kaitlyn said.

  “Travis said there was five females renting this cabin, but I only see four. Where’s the other one?” Her tone was challenging, and I couldn’t tell if she was baiting us or merely searching for information.

  Jenna waved toward the window. “Oh, yeah. Sam went for a hike. I’m sure she’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “Huh.” Marlene kicked at something. “Is that right?” Her lips peeled back into a smile that sent a thousand spiders crawling up my spine. “Ask her if she’s seen Travis. Will ya?”

  I nodded, but my mouth had filled with cobwebs.

  “Yes. We will.” Jenna let the screen door slam shut.

  We watched the woman turn away from us and follow her companion down the steps. They headed down the trail toward the lake as we perched in silence.

  Kaitlyn placed her hands on her forehead and closed her eyes. “Oh my God. Do you think they knew we were lying?”

  “No,” Jenna said, shaking her head. “They have no reason to think that.”

  “Did you see the way they were looking at us?” I asked. “It’s obvious we’ve all been crying. And that scrape.” I motioned toward the ceiling. “How did we miss that?”

  Charlotte raised her eyes toward the mark. “I don’t know. It didn’t seem like they knew anything about Travis or Sam.”

  My teeth clenched. “No, Charlotte. Did you hear what Marlene said when you said Sam would be back in a few minutes? Is that right?” I said, imitating the woman’s sarcastic voice. “She knew something.”

  Kaitlyn tugged at the ends of her hair. “You’re reading too much into it, Megan. I agree with Charlotte. I don’t think they know anything.”

  “It was hard to tell.” Jenna grasped her elbows. “They’re definitely creepy, but I got the feeling they’re clueless. At worst, they’re just beginning to suspect something.”

  My palms were sweaty. I wiped them on my shirt, realizing my friends might be right. I tended to overanalyze the tones of people’s voices and their facial expressions. It was an occupational hazard.

  Charlotte hurried toward the window, peering out. “We should ask them to call roadside assistance for us. Before they leave.”

  “Won’t they think it’s odd we didn’t mention it before?” Kaitlyn asked.

  “They don’t strike me as deep thinkers.” I lifted my foot from the blood spatter and joined the others near the window. “And it’s not like we have a lot of options.”

  Jenna touched her forehead. “What if they start checking out the minivan on their own? They might see Sam’s body in the back.”

  “The back windows are tinted,” I said. “And we wrapped Sam in a blanket.”

  “Whether we like it or not, those two people are our best shot of getting out of here right now.” Charlotte stood on her tiptoes and looked outside. “They’re about to turn down the trail toward the camp. I’ll catch up with them and give them the card. We know they have access to a landline.”

  Nobody argued with Charlotte’s plan. She rushed toward the door, but Jenna grabbed her arm. “Don’t sneak up on them, Charlotte. That guy will shoot you.”

  Charlotte dug the card out of her pocket and held it in the air. “It’s okay. I’ll yell from a distance. I’ll ask them to wait.”

  I edged toward her. “Do you want me to come with you?”

  Charlotte waved me off. “No. It’s fine. You can watch me from the deck.”

  I exhaled, relieved not to have to face them but scared for Charlotte.

  Jenna stepped outside, opening the door for us. “Thanks, Charlotte. My ankle is wrecked.”

  We filed out onto the deck as Charlotte threw a nervous glance over her shoulder and clamored down the trail. I was happy to be out of the kitchen and into the fresh air. Still, I held my breath. Travis’s friends were no longer in sight.

  “Hey, Marlene!” Charlotte called as she made her way through the trees. “Marlene!” Charlotte had changed out of her orange shirt and now wore a moss-colored tank top that wasn’t as easy to track through the green-brown forest. When she reached the bottom of the incline, she looked up at us. “They went this way,” she said, pointing toward the trail that veered to the left.

  I stood and gave her a wave. She followed the bend in the trail, her body blending into the trees. My fingers tightened around the wooden porch railing as I lost sight of her. Crooked Lake stretched beyond the trees, its opaque surface undulating like a mouth waiting to swallow us.

  “I can’t see her,” Kaitlyn said.

  I held up my hand. “Shh! Wait.”

  Voices murmured through the leaves.

  “Charlotte’s talking to them.”

  Marlene’s gravelly voice sounded through the lapping waves, followed by a man’s mumbling.

  “Okay. Thanks.” It was Charlotte’s voice, and I could barely make out her words. She wasn’t visible, but the upswing in her statement sent a ripple of hope through me. Seconds later, she emerged onto the trail below us, her step carrying a bounce that hadn’t been there a few minutes ago. She gave a thumbs up and a nod.

  I let my weary body collapse into the chair behind me. Was it possible our nightmare was finally coming to an end? What were the odds that those two misfits would be the ones to rescue us? As long as they didn’t find out what we’d done to Travis, this could work.

  Charlotte’s breath heaved as she trudged closer. “I gave them the card. They said they’d make the call for us when they got back to the house.”

  Kaitlyn flopped her head forward on the table. “Oh, thank God!”

  “Did they ask anymore questions about Travis?” Jenna paced along the railing, eyes flickering toward the lake.

  Charlotte’s face brightened. “No questions asked.”

  I slapped my hand on the table. “Good job, Charlotte. We’ll be out of here soon.”

  Kaitlyn leaned forward, a spark in her eyes. “It’s possible a tow truck could get here tonight.”

  “It’s already seven o’clock,” Jenna said, checking her watch. “Do you think they’d go out that late?”

  “The card said twenty-four-hour service.”

  “What should we tell the driver?” Kaitlyn asked.

  I looked at her, my muscles constricting at the thought of being left here again. “We need to ride out with him. All of us. We’ll call 911 as soon as we have cell-phone reception.”

  Jenna fell into a chair across from me. Her eyes traveled around the table and landed on each of us in turn. “There’s going to be no mention of Travis until we get to the police station. Understand? Then we all remember the story, right? We didn’t have a choice. It was self-defense.”

  Charlotte frowned. “But now we’ve moved his body.”

  “We can tell the truth about that,” I said. “We were scared of how armed members of a hate group would react to finding their friend’s dead body in our kitchen. Any reasonable person would have acted the same way we did
.”

  Everyone mumbled agreement and nodded. Not knowing how long we’d be waiting for roadside assistance to arrive, we decided to put together something to eat. We were dehydrated and hungry. Thankfully, Kaitlyn had brought enough groceries to feed a small army.

  Twenty minutes later, we’d returned to our seats on the porch, picking at an assortment of cheese and crackers, strawberries, raw vegetables, and tortilla chips with guacamole. A glass of water and a glass of wine sat in front of each person. Our empty wine bottles from the night before lined the wall next to the door.

  “My feet are killing me,” Charlotte said. “I wonder how many miles I walked today.”

  “At least ten or fifteen,” I said, thinking of all the hikes she’d made back and forth to Travis’s house this morning, not to mention the long treks that followed.

  “If nothing else, maybe I burned some calories.” Charlotte lowered her gaze to her midsection.

  My half-chewed food sat in my mouth. I wondered how Charlotte could worry about her physique at a time like this when she should have been grateful just to be alive.

  Kaitlyn scoffed. “Stop putting yourself down, Charlotte. We’re too old for that bullshit. We’re beautiful just the way we are. All of us.”

  Charlotte raised her eyes. “Easy for you to say, Nicole Kidman.”

  My disgust at Charlotte’s previous concern faded, and I smiled at her jab. Kaitlyn had always stolen the show as far as guys were concerned. There wasn’t a single party or bar we’d ever entered with her where at least one eager young suitor would ask her if anyone ever told her she looked like Nicole Kidman. As the rest of us rolled our eyes, Kaitlyn would flash a bashful smile in response and say it was the first time anyone had ever told her that.

  I bit into another chip as my eyes gravitated toward the empty chair—the one where Sam had been sitting less than forty-eight hours ago. I felt someone staring and looked up.

  “It’s surreal without Sam here, isn’t it?” Jenna pulled her eyes from me and lifted her wine. “It doesn’t seem possible that she’s gone.” She sniffled and rubbed the back of her sleeve across her eyes.

  The weight of my grief expanded in my chest. “I miss her so much.”

  Kaitlyn massaged her temples, water pooling in the corners of her eyes. “It’s going to be so horrible when Thomas and her kids find out. I can’t even let myself think about it.”

  “I know.” I envisioned the heart-wrenching tears of a husband who’d lost his soulmate, and the sobs of children who’d lost their mother. There’d be funeral arrangements and counseling and nannies and maybe even a stepmother in their future. But right now, they were blissfully unaware. Hot tears built behind my eyes again, and I couldn’t blink them back. The wine was making everything worse, yet it dulled the edges of my pain. I poured myself another glass but stopped halfway. There would be plenty of time to mourn for Sam and her family once the rest of us were safe. I needed to keep my head clear and make sure my family didn’t have to endure a similar tragedy.

  “Do you think Marlene and Ed called for help yet?” Kaitlyn’s head rotated toward the minivan.

  Jenna surveyed the trees. “I didn’t see them pass by here again, but I’m sure they know a different route back.”

  We waited on the deck, listening for any sign of an incoming tow truck—tires cracking along the gravel or the murmur of an engine. Instead, we heard only the steady lull of the water lapping against the rocky shoreline, the drawn-out chirps of crickets, and the occasional cackles of crows. Dusk fell around us and bats flitted overhead as the sky turned the color of gunpowder. Our conversation turned back to Sam. We took turns sharing our favorite memories, remembering her kindness and humor, her down-to-earth view of the world, her silly, made-up phrases, and her decision to see the best in others. I silently forgave her for making me keep the secret about Jenna’s broken mug all those years ago. I no longer cared whether she’d shattered it by accident or on purpose. We had all done things we regretted.

  I told the others how I was awestruck by Sam’s ability to build MedTech—a multimillion-dollar corporation—from the ground up. And it wasn’t just any company that she’d created. It was one that helped people. She had saved countless lives by making prescription drugs available to those who couldn’t otherwise afford them. We remembered how happy she’d been at her wedding, how ecstatic she’d been to become a mother. The laughter and tears morphed into each other, as fluid and natural as a lake freezing and thawing. When the memories finally ran out, my insides ached, empty and raw.

  I got up to use the bathroom, realizing I could barely see my feet. The night had turned black. “What time is it?” I asked.

  Jenna lifted her wrist toward the light of the flickering candle. “Almost ten thirty. I hate to say it, but I don’t know if the tow truck is coming tonight.”

  “We don’t know what time they called.” Charlotte’s eyelashes lowered. “Maybe help will arrive in the morning.”

  “Are you sure they promised to call?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” Charlotte said, her eyes round and unblinking. “They said they would do it as soon as they could.”

  Kaitlyn tipped her head back, her wavy hair hanging behind her. “I’m so tired, guys. How about I sleep on the couch tonight? I’m a light sleeper. If the tow truck arrives in the middle of the night, I’ll hear it and wake everyone up.”

  “Thanks Kaitlyn,” I said. “I guess the truck could still show up tonight.”

  Everyone stood and gathered their glasses and paper plates. I placed another empty wine bottle near the door as we filed into the kitchen to throw away plates and napkins. My eyes darted toward the tiny door in the wall, and I noticed the others eyeing it too.

  Kaitlyn motioned toward the cellar. “How long do you think we have until… you know?”

  “What?” I asked.

  “The smell,” her feet shuffled sideways, “of the dead bodies.”

  I pinched my lips together. I’d been wondering the same thing.

  “It takes three days for putrefaction to set in,” Charlotte said matter-of-factly. She raised her chin when she noticed us staring at her. “It’s one of the things you learn as a pre-med student.”

  Jenna pulled at the ends of her chin-length hair. “It’s only been a day. We’ll get out of here before then.”

  “Yeah,” I said, my molars grinding together. We had to get out of here before then.

  Several minutes later, I was lying in the twin bed across from Charlotte, hugging the musty pillow to my cheek. A sheet and a thin blanket were draped over me, but I was cold without the quilt. Charlotte shifted on her mattress. Her quilt was missing too. I squeezed my eyelids closed, not letting myself envision the current locations of the bedspreads. Of course, the more I tried not to think about the flowered quilts wrapped around the dead bodies, the more vividly the images etched themselves into my mind.

  I rolled to my other side but couldn’t calm myself. Exhaustion consumed me. My eyelids hung heavy, and my muscles ached with weariness. My head was hazy with grief and alcohol. Still, dread trickled through my veins, keeping me awake. Even though I’d used the bathroom less than twenty minutes ago, that second glass of wine was hitting me. I couldn’t ignore the acid in my stomach and the growing pressure in my bladder. Charlotte’s breath sounded evenly from across the room. She was already asleep.

  I slipped from the covers and tiptoed down the dark hall to the bathroom, returning a minute later, relieved. The door creaked as I closed it behind me and climbed under the cold sheets again. My stomach churned. Charlotte’s breath puffed in and out. I wished I’d thought to bring earplugs. I told myself roadside assistance would arrive in the morning—or maybe even tonight—but something deep within me felt hollow and hopeless. I feared the worst. It was possible Marlene and Ed had lied to Charlotte about making the phone call. What if my initial assessment had been correct—that they either knew Travis had murdered Sam, or they suspected we’d done something to Travis? What
if they were the ones who’d helped Travis slash the tires and kill Sam in the first place?

  I shivered and told myself to shut up. My mind was spiraling downward without any proof to backup my paranoia. Few things could comfort me now. I imagined Andrew lying next to me, his sturdy arm holding me close, the heat of his body warming me. But my legs kicked back and forth under the scratchy sheets. The vision didn’t soothe me the way I’d hoped it would. Andrew didn’t know I’d cheated on him. He would hate me if he knew. There was a space between us filled with lies and guilt, and I couldn’t find a way to bridge the gap. Maybe this weekend was karma returning for me, the universe making me pay for my sin. I could almost see a giant finger reaching down from the sky and wagging at me, saying, “You didn’t appreciate what you had, Megan. Maybe now you will.”

  Still, out of exhaustion and desperation, I leaned into my betrayal. Andrew’s face blurred and dissolved until it transformed into someone else. My husband became the other man, the one I’d been sneaking off to meet at hotels and restaurants and the back seats of cars. As much as I didn’t want it to be, it was his flexed arm I felt around me, his oaky aftershave I smelled, his lips brushing against my earlobe and whispering, “Everything’s going to be okay.” My head sunk into the pillow. Before I knew it, I was asleep.

  Chapter Twenty

  I woke early, the morning sun prodding my eyelids open. A yawn forced its way out of my mouth. I sat up, finding Charlotte still sleeping in the other twin bed. My eyes squinted toward the brightening sky and then toward my useless phone charging on the nightstand. I angled the screen toward me—7:08 a.m. The wine had knocked me out and I’d slept through the night. But the realization was bittersweet because Kaitlyn hadn’t woken us up. That meant the tow truck had not arrived to rescue us.

  Charlotte turned over and rubbed the weariness from her eyes. Her brunette hair sat tangled on her shoulders and poofed up on one side. “Hi.”

  “I finally got some sleep,” I said. “The wine hit me hard.”