The Cabin

by Natasha Preston

  I gasped and looked around. There was nothing but a cat sitting on a fence in the distance. I took deep breaths and held my chest, my lungs feeling like they were going to explode.

  "Calm down," I whispered, clenching my free hand. "You're an idiot."

  There was no one following me and probably never was.

  What the hell was happening to me?

  I straightened my back and walked around the side of the wall to Aaron's front door. My hip stung, but I didn't care.

  I raised my arm and knocked.

  "Just a minute!" Aaron hollered from somewhere inside.

  My phone beeped.

  No, please not again.

  I took it out of my pocket tentatively, like it was going to burn me.

  The number. My eyes pricked with tears, but I was determined not to cry as the text came into view.

  Careful, there's a killer out there.

  I stumbled back and dropped my phone. Had someone been following me?

  Who'd sent this?

  It couldn't be Blake. He was at the police station, and I doubted they'd let him sit there on his phone. I knew he was innocent. I knew it.

  But Aaron, Megan, and Kyle? Or someone else?

  Aaron's front door opened, and I jammed my phone in my pocket and shoved my hands behind my back so Aaron wouldn't see how much they were trembling.

  "Hey," Aaron said, his smile stretching across his face, lighting up his baby-blue eyes as he pulled the front door wide-open.

  "Hi." He stepped aside, and I walked in with my heart in my stomach. "Can we talk?"

  "Sure. My parents are home, so let's go upstairs."

  I climbed the stairs and headed to his room. Accusing Aaron of murder, which was pretty much what I was doing at his house, was one of the hardest things I'd had to do. I was torn between wanting him to admit it and deny it.

  "So what's up?" he asked as he sat on his swivel chair by his desk.

  I lowered myself onto his bed, facing him. I let my eyes wander around his room, looking for a phone I'd not seen before. It was clear, besides all of his junk. "Um, well, Blake was arrested today."

  His eyebrows shot up. If he had planted the evidence at Blake's, he faked shock well. "Jesus. For the murders?"

  "The police found something of Court and Josh's in his room."

  "Wow..." He shook his head. "Can't say I'm surprised."

  "No...you always thought it was him."

  "Well, I was right, wasn't I?"

  "No. He was framed."

  "Mackenzie, come on. How long are you going to defend the guy? Open your eyes! I know you don't want to think badly of anyone, but this is bordering on ridiculous. We barely know Blake. On the night he randomly decides to play big brother, two people end up dead. How does that look?"

  "I understand how it looks, and I know you don't trust him, but please trust me. Blake didn't do this."

  "So the evidence fairies left the stuff in his room, did they?"

  I gulped. "No." Raising my eyes to meet his, I waited and then watched his mouth slowly drop. He looked winded, like I'd just punched him in the gut.

  "You think it was me?" he ranted, pushing himself up. "What's wrong with you, Mackenzie? I think the guy is a creep, and yeah, I think he did it, but I would never frame anyone, let alone murder our friends!"

  "OK, OK," I replied, standing and holding my hands up. "I'm sorry, but Wright said you've been telling everyone how much you think it's Blake, and--"

  "So you believe that arsehole and not someone you've known for years? I thought better of you."

  It was his turn to wind me. My eyes welled with tears. He was right. I shouldn't let what Wright said get to me. I'd never felt lower. "God, I'm sorry, Aaron. I don't know what to think anymore. I don't know how to handle all of this. Everything was already so messed up and now Blake has been arrested."

  Aaron grabbed my arms and bent his head down to my level. "You have to face the fact that it was him. How much more evidence do you need?"

  To believe he did it, I need a confession. "It wasn't him, Aaron. Why would he leave Court's earring and Josh's chain there? The police had already searched and found nothing. Did he store them somewhere else and then randomly move them under his bed? That's stupid. He would've dumped that kind of evidence if it were him."

  Aaron lifted his eyebrow. "Maybe he thought it was safe. I don't know what goes through his psychotic mind. Do I? If you don't believe it was Blake, then who was it, Kenz? Me? Kyle? Megan? You? We're your only other options, so pick one."

  I yanked my arms from his grip. "Don't you dare ask me to choose between you."

  Because it'd be him. Blake was the only one I trusted now.

  "I don't need to. You came here asking me if I set Blake up. I think it's crystal clear who you think killed them."

  "Aaron, I'm looking for answers. All I want is to know what happened."

  "So do I! They were my friends too. You're not the only person who's lost someone. You're not the only one who wants justice."

  "All right. I was wrong, and I'm sorry. I don't want to lose you too."

  Aaron groaned as he watched a tear slide down my cheek. I was exhausted; my energy was evaporating at an alarming rate. "Don't cry. You know I hate it when you cry." He wrapped his arms around me. "What you said hurt, but I don't want to lose you either. I don't know what I can do to convince you that I'm innocent, Kenzie, but tell me and I'll do it."

  "I'm sorry," I whispered. "You don't have to do anything. I believe you. Forgive me?"

  "You're already forgiven," he replied. "Megan and Kyle'll be here soon. Wanna help me get the drinks and snacks together?"

  What I wanted was to check on Blake and make sure he was OK, but I knew Wright wouldn't let me see him. Maybe hanging with them would be a good idea? I knew they all had secrets, but maybe I would be able to see through them to the truth. Unlikely, but I could hope.

  "Sure," I said, feeling uncomfortable. "Hey, you still have that farm app on your phone? I feel like not thinking for a while."

  "Err." He looked around his room. "I do but I guess my phone must be downstairs. Let's get the food and you can bring it back up."

  If he didn't know where his phone was, what did that mean? Was he being honest, or was he the one sending the text messages?

  I smiled. "Thanks, Aaron."

  *

  I helped Aaron get the snacks together, and then I'd had about five minutes on a game I didn't want to play by the time Megan and Kyle arrived. We sat on the floor in a circle. It was just like any other time we'd hung out, but the atmosphere was way off. There was no easy conversation and a whole lot of prolonged silences.

  My fingers wouldn't stay still; I tapped them together and threaded them through and around. I couldn't tell if their expressions were grieving friend who'd been through so much or guilty conscience. Each one of them looked the same--tired. Blake was right. I couldn't tell if they'd done it and I probably would never be able to.

  I was closest to Kyle because he'd always been an open book. And Megan, I thought, had never kept a secret from me our whole lives. Aaron was the blue-eyed boy, the loving friend who would fight to the death to keep the people he loved safe.

  Opening a bottle of some premade tropical cocktail--the only bottle that hadn't had the seal broken--I took a large swig. It was stupid to be drinking, but I no longer cared. My mind was in pieces, and I wanted to forget for a while.

  My friends didn't seem to worry that one of us in that room was a murderer and had drugged the rest of us. It was clear they believed it was Blake and there was no danger of being drugged again. Were they all in on it?

  "To Tilly, Gigi, Josh, and Courtney," Kyle said, holding up his can of beer.

  And to Pete.

  I raised my bottle, clinking it against the boys' cans and Megan's glass of neat vodka. "Getting drunk, Megan?" I asked.

  "It's over now, Mackenzie. Blake's going to prison for what he did. We don't have to worry about Courtney an
d Josh never getting justice. I kind of think that's cause for a celebration, don't you?" she asked.

  No.

  "It is," Aaron replied. "To justice and finally being able to move on." He closed his eyes looking beyond tired. I felt the same.

  How many toasts were they going to do? The real murderer hadn't been caught yet. I was drinking with strangers.

  Ten agonizing minutes later, Megan giggled. She hadn't had much to drink, but she was drinking vodka. I couldn't even blame her. At least if I were drunk, I could stop worrying for a while. I couldn't do that to Blake though. He was sitting in some holding cell, so having fun, getting an escape--even if momentary--seemed so wrong.

  "I can't believe it's just us four. This time last year, my room was filled with eight drunk and very happy people. Remember you girls dancing around the room, singing into empty bottles?" Kyle asked, laughing.

  I smiled at the memory and wished we could go back in time. Things were simple and easy then. It was such a shock to see how much could change in just one year. My circle of friends had been cut in half, and I had a not-really-a-boyfriend friend who I could possibly lose to jail before we really got to be together. I was so tired of losing people.

  "This is all so screwed up, but at least they have the person who did it. We're all OK now," Aaron said, raising his glass to me.

  My hand tightened around the bottle, but I said nothing. Perhaps if they all got drunk, one of them might slip up. I didn't have much hope, but it was the only piece I had left.

  "Thank God," Megan added. "I knew we would all get through this. We just had to stick together."

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Aaron raise his eyebrows, and I knew the gesture was for me. I had pretty much accused him of being the murderer when I asked if he planted those things on Blake.

  "I'll just be a minute," I said and left the room. There was a phone call I needed to make that absolutely couldn't wait, so I locked myself in the bathroom down the hall.

  Wright was on the other end of the line almost the second as he was informed of my call. "Hello, Miss Keaton, what a lovely surprise."

  "Is Blake OK?"

  "Blake is fine," he replied.

  "What's happening? You know he didn't do this, don't you?"

  "Unfortunately, I can't speak about--"

  "Cut the bull," I snapped. "We all know you do nothing by the book, so don't try to start now."

  The line was silent for a second and then I heard a quiet chuckle. "I admire your spunk, Mackenzie." Spunk. Who still used the word spunk? "Blake is being questioned."

  "I figured that. You're still looking at who really murdered Court and Josh though, aren't you?"

  "If you're asking me if you're still a person of interest, yes."

  My shoulders loosened in relief. That meant he wasn't jumping on the Blake-did-it train like everyone else. "Good."

  "I find it quite remarkable that you would prefer to still be in the limelight."

  "I don't want an innocent man going to prison."

  "Neither do I," he replied. "The evidence we found in Blake's room has been sent for testing."

  "You mean fingerprinting?"

  "Nothing gets past you, does it?"

  "Hard to say. You're slightly more transparent than my friends right now though." And that's the biggest lie I've told.

  "I wish I could say the same about you. Good day, Mackenzie," he said and hung up.

  I walked back to Aaron's room, and they hadn't moved an inch. Taking my seat between Megan and Kyle, I picked up my drink and then thought better of it.

  They had been alone with it, and I didn't trust them anymore.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  I left to go home shortly after they started on the shots. It was only seven in the evening, and I didn't have to be home until eleven, but I couldn't celebrate Blake's arrest. It made me feel sick, and if Aaron made one more toast, I was going to punch him.

  Both of my parents' cars were in the drive, which was unusual on a weekday, since they didn't leave work until about this time. My nerves rattled as I opened the door and yelled out, "Hello?"

  "We're in the kitchen," Mum replied, and I took a left, under the arched doorway.

  The last time we had a kitchen talk was three years ago when they were giving me the talk after I got together with Danny. I could still remember the horror I felt at having them explain contraception. Not to mention when Mum slid a condom over a banana, I wanted the ground to swallow me whole. The day I found out I was pregnant, I burned the remaining condoms Danny and I had.

  "Sit down, Mackenzie," Dad said. He and Mum were around the kitchen table with a teapot filled with steaming hot tea and three mugs. I sat down and bit my lip. This didn't look good.

  "Blake has been arrested," Mum said, pouring tea into the mugs.

  "Yes, but he didn't do it. I know he didn't."

  "Mackenzie--" Dad started, but I cut him off by holding my hand up.

  "Please, Dad. I know what you're going to say, but I trust him. We've spent a lot of time together, and I know that he could never do what he's been accused of doing."

  "How well do you really know him though?"

  I shrugged awkwardly, knowing I was going to sound like every other teenage girl who was infatuated with a good-looking guy. "I know him well enough. You're the one who always says your gut instinct is never wrong."

  "And don't I regret that now," he muttered behind his mug as he took a sip. "We just want you safe, sweetheart, that's why we think you should stay at home until this whole thing blows over."

  Blows over. He made it sound like it was a thunderstorm that would pass quickly. "Dad, it's fine. I'm fine."

  He pursed his lips and put down his drink. "Mackenzie, I made it sound like a suggestion, and I shouldn't have. You will stay in until the person responsible for those murders is in police custody. Do you understand?"

  "I'm almost eighteen, you can't ground me." He could, of course, but it was ridiculous.

  "I don't care how old you are. You're our child and we will do whatever is necessary to make sure you're safe. Hate us if you want."

  Oh, playing the hate-us card. Great. "I don't hate you. I understand why you're grounding me, but it's a little over the top and you know it."

  "Honey, you're our baby. If anything happened to you, we would never forgive ourselves. Now, if you trust Blake, then I do too. You've got a good head on your shoulders, but if you're going to see him when he gets out of jail, it will be here, when one of us is home," my mum said.

  Because that won't be embarrassing at all.

  Conceding, I said, "OK. Thank you for trusting me about Blake." I couldn't really argue when they were showing me a lot of trust. They'd met Blake only a few times and he'd been arrested for murder. My parents had every right to forbid me to even think about him.

  "Is it serious between you two?" Mum asked.

  "No," I said cautiously. We had slept together and kissed a couple of times. That didn't exactly equal a serious, committed relationship, to him anyway.

  "You're not doing that casual thing, are you?" Dad shook his head. "Mackenzie, you deserve better than that."

  "Oh my God, Dad!" My face lit on fire. "That's not what we're doing. We're not doing anything." OK, ground, do your thing and swallow me whole.

  Mum frowned. "But you are together?"

  "No, Mum."

  "I don't get you kids nowadays," she said. "Why you have to complicate everything I will never know. If two people like each other, they should just come out and say so. Such a waste of time going around in circles when you could be happy."

  My parents admitted they liked each other within days of meeting, and about a week later they were a couple. It didn't quite work like that these days. Now, if a girl admitted she liked a guy straightaway she was a bunny boiler, and if a guy did that, he was a pussy. There were modern-day politics you had to consider, rules you had to adhere to in order to be happy. The young people that jumped into relatio
nships nowadays were desperate and no one wanted a latcher.

  "Can we not talk about this? Please."

  Mum put her mug down. "All right. You'll let us know when you two sort it out though?"

  "Yeah, will do, Mum." I took a sip of my drink, wishing it were hotter so it would scald my throat and I could go to the emergency room and not have this conversation. "Dad, do you think you could call the police station and try to find out what's going on? Wright won't tell me much."

  "You're worried about your not-quite boyfriend?" he asked.

  "If you're not going to do it--"

  "No, no, I'll do it."

  "You guys are being really cool about this. I appreciate that. You don't know Blake."

  "We know you. And if you trust him over three people you've known your whole life, then he can't be bad," Dad said, standing up. "I'll make that call now."

  I did trust Blake more. I couldn't explain it. There was just something about him, about us, that made sense.

  Mum smiled at me when Dad left the room. A full, toothy smile. She had something she was bursting to say. No doubt it would be about Blake. I sighed. "Go on. Just say it, Mum."

  "Have you kissed?" she asked.

  "Yes," I replied.

  "And you really like him?" My mum was a romantic; she and Dad had been together since they were teenagers. They'd had their whole lives to be deliriously happy, so she wanted the same for me.

  "I do."

  "You're being careful? And I don't just mean contraception."

  "OK, we're done now." Why did "enough" mean nothing to my family? I stood up. "I'll see you at dinner."

  "You're hiding out until dinner? You shouldn't be embarrassed to talk about boys with me."

  "And good-bye, Mother!"

  I left the kitchen to hover around Dad by the sofa.

  "No, I know... Well, is there anything you can tell me?" he said into the phone. I knew that meant he was getting nothing as well. I hated waiting around, knowing Blake was innocent. How long would it take the police to figure that out?

  He hung up and shook his head. "Sorry, kiddo. No news."

  I shrugged. "Thanks for trying. I'm gonna go watch a couple films."

  My room wasn't like bedrooms in movies, where you could sneak out down the drainpipe. Outside my window was a flat brick wall and a long drop onto stones. It would be noisy if I tried to sneak out. And besides, where would I go? I felt so useless.

  Think. What can I do?