All the Missing Girls(74)

“So, no,” Seth added, “we weren’t friends.”

“Any clue where she’d go?”

Seth chewed the candy between his back teeth, grinding as he spoke. “Bet she was never even in the woods,” he said.

“Her brother said—” I started.

“Her brother,” Seth said. “Useless piece of crap. Want to know why Bryce was hanging out his window after midnight on a Monday night? Probably because he didn’t want his mom to smell the pot.”

“Heard he’s dropping out,” Britt added.

A kid with no promise, the opposite of his sister. Watching her image disappear through the smoke.

“Nobody really trusts him, but it’s not like there’s anything else to go by,” Seth said.

“You don’t believe it? That she wandered off into the woods?”

“After midnight? She goes for a walk into the woods with her purse? Come on,” Britt said.

“Then why are you here?”

Seth shrugged, unwrapped another candy. “Because we were given the day off if we did this instead.”

Britt must’ve noticed the look on my face. “Besides, there are helicopters. If she’s out here, they’ll find her.”

I looked up at the canopy of leaves, and down at the water rushing by, and hoped that was a lie she was telling herself to feel better about not caring.

You could get lost in these woods so easily. You could lose yourself in them. You could live an entire secret history inside of them, a decade’s worth, with no witnesses.



* * *



I HAD COME DOWN to this river the winter after I left, the first time I was home.

I’d enrolled in a school a hundred miles east, used Daniel’s money to find a cheap place with three roommates. Got a job in the registration office, which would turn full-time in the summer. Went home for a week over Christmas break, which turned into two because a snowstorm came and I couldn’t leave.

I’d put on my snow boots and my down jacket, pulled a hat over my newly red hair. Trudged down to the river, where my lungs burned with deep breaths and the icicles shone against the bank.

And I saw that I was not alone.

We walked slowly down the bank on opposite sides until we reached the log thrown across at the narrow gap. I watched as Tyler balanced on the trunk, and I laughed when he slipped, catching himself with his gloved fingers.

I smiled when he made it all the way across. “I like your hair,” he said.

“You don’t have to lie.”

His gloves smelled like wool and chafed at my skin, just like the scruff of his jawline. His lips were cracked and thirsty, and his skin was warm against the cold. We made a pact that day in our silence. That we would not speak of the things that had happened, we would not speak of all we had lost.



* * *



BRITT AND SETH FOLLOWED the river until it branched, which was the mark on the map for the end of our search area. Seth spun on his heel, but I stared at the two different paths, remembering where they led. One behind the caverns. The other snaked around the open fields of the fair, cutting close to Riverfall Motel, in all its run-down glory.

“Hey, Nic,” Britt said. Had I given her my name? Did she know who I was? “Snap out of it, sister.”

“I’m gonna keep going,” I said.

“Like hell,” she said. “Didn’t you get a copy of the rules? We stay together. We return together. We report together.”

I followed them back to the road. Followed them back to check in with Officer Fraize. Then took one of the Missing flyers and drove down to Riverfall Motel by myself.



* * *



RIVERFALL MOTEL WAS A strip of twenty identical rooms, set just back from the road, with a parking lot of slanted spaces in front of each door. It was yellow and falling to disrepair, but there were cars out front. Probably because of the fair. Maybe some of the workers. This was where Hannah Pardot had been stationed for the summer ten years ago. I used to drive by sometimes, just to see if her car was still here.

I parked in front of the office, let myself in, watched the man behind the counter tear his gaze from a soap opera that he didn’t bother turning off. “Can I help you?” he asked.

I put Annaleise’s flyer down on the counter, felt her eyes staring up at me, twisted the paper around so it was facing him. “Have you seen this woman?”

“Annaleise Carter? The police have already been here. Nope. Never seen her.” He was already facing the television again.

“Okay, thanks.”

I knocked on each door, getting no response from most, even some with cars out front. People wanting privacy, people who had secrets to keep.

At the third room, I heard footsteps, saw a shadow under the door, knew someone was looking out the peephole back at me, but the doorknob didn’t turn. I flipped the flyer around, holding it up to the peephole. “I’m looking for this girl,” I said. The door cracked open. The room smelled stale and sour, as if alcohol and milk had been ground into the carpet.

The world was full of people who wanted to give information, who sometimes fabricated it in the hope that it would lead somewhere. But the world was also full of people who had no intention of going anywhere near the police. Who saw things and kept them hidden. A group of people who could piece together the truth if they were so inclined. The man didn’t open the door all the way, but I could see his face, bearded and pockmarked. I didn’t know why he was here, and I didn’t honestly care.