Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(40)

When he didn’t say anything else, the detective handed him a card. “Sometimes things come back. Like that diner name. Those are the kind of things that might help me, okay?”

He promised the old detective, who he could see was trying hard to understand the puzzle in front of him, that he would think and call if anything else came back to him. He would.



* * *



Back at Miss Gail’s, he found Piper sitting on the front steps waiting for him. Her house wasn’t far. He’d go back to the same school, Miss Gail told him, when he was ready. He was ready. He’d go back on Monday. Alice would say: No use sitting around feeling sorry for yourself.

He went to sit next to Piper.

“How is it?”

She looked back at the big Victorian which was rundown a little but still managed to look well-kept and cheerful with big planters filled with flowering bushes, rockers with red cushions on the porch, checkered curtains, stained glass in the front door.

“Not bad.”

She nodded, her hair shining in the afternoon sun. She rubbed at her nose which was covered, like her cheeks, with a wild smattering of freckles. Rangy, the fastest runner at school, bold, full of laughter, Piper was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen.

“You haven’t cried,” she said. “Not once. My mom said you hold it all inside. That you need to let it out—all that sadness. That it will make you sick if you don’t.”

He wanted to tell her that he didn’t feel anything at all. Her mom was wrong. He wasn’t holding anything in. There was nothing there. But he sensed that it might frighten her. It frightened him.

“I cried. Some,” he lied.

She seemed satisfied with that.

“You’re an orphan now.” She said it easily, with a touch of wonder. A thing that was true and couldn’t hurt because of its essential truth. She was a practical girl; he understood her. But was it true, if his father was out there somewhere? Maybe orphan just meant that no one cared more about you than they cared about anything else. That much was true now that Alice was gone.

“Yeah.”

She held out her hand and she took it. “Don’t worry. You’ll always have me.”

He wondered if that was true.





17


Hannah





June 2018


Hannah was drinking too much. Two vodka sodas already, and the red wine Mako had served with dinner was going down fast, her glass almost empty. What was it? Liquor to wine, you’ll be fine? She hoped that was true. She hadn’t had this much to drink since Gigi had been born, and not for ages before. And had she seen on the printed itinerary left on their king bed that there was someone picking them up early for a hiking excursion? Had it said 7:00 a.m.?

She felt warm, her cheeks flushed. Bruce had knocked back a couple of bourbons and he was relaxed and easy, all the tensions he was carrying seemed to have vanished. She’d let herself surrender to her buzz, forget all the things that were worrying her.

When Mako returned to the table with assurances that Liza just needed some rest and would be fine in the morning, they’d settled into dinner—the ghost story, the creepy review, too, faded, were washed away in a tide of good food, drinks, and laughter.

The meal had actually been heavenly—the meat perfectly grilled, charred at the edges but moist inside. Every side was an explosion of flavor. And a surprise dessert was on its way, Chef clanging about the kitchen while his silent assistant cleared their plates. Hannah thanked her, but she didn’t seem to hear.

Mako was loudly telling a story about buying the Tesla and how he needed the tax credit, and Cricket was hanging on his every word. I made so much money last year, he said as if it was a problem. Cricket literally had her chin in her hand, staring at him like a lovesick schoolgirl. Joshua, with a slight smile, and possessive arm around Cricket seemed less impressed.

Hannah had felt Joshua’s eyes, once, twice, but ignored him. Now it was her turn to look at him for a second. His elegant high cheekbones, short shorn dark curls, his good posture, his slimness. He seemed tense, maybe his mind elsewhere, maybe picking up on the energy between Mako and Cricket.

Cricket might always be a little in love with Mako, Hannah thought. The thought came out of nowhere, surprising her. No, that wasn’t true. Was it?

Joshua pulled his phone from his pocket, glancing at it with a frown.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, rising.

“Of course,” Hannah said, giving him a smile which he returned before moving away quickly.

Cricket and Mako didn’t even notice, Mako drunkenly going on—and on. Hannah had already heard this story. “And the guy was like: Wait. Dude, you’re paying cash?”

Earlier in the month, Hannah’s mother had intimated that Mako was having some issues with the business, that he’d asked their dad to invest more money. But that Sophia and Leo had declined, saying that they were “tapped out” when it came to giving Mako money. Still Mako talked ceaselessly about the things he had, what he was buying next. So, what was that all about?

Hannah felt Bruce’s hand on her thigh and when she looked over at him, they locked eyes.

“Looks like the fire is dying outside,” he said. “I’ll go see to it.”

“Let Chef get it,” said Mako, not eager to lose another audience member. Was his tone a little sharp?