Secluded Cabin Sleeps Six(63)

Cricket dropped her head on Hannah’s shoulder; Hannah sighed. Cricket stared up into the starry, velvety sky above. It did look like a cloud cover was moving in, obscuring the sky. Cricket didn’t say anything.

Mako pushed back through the sliding door.

Great. He’s back.

But then, the look on his face gave Cricket a jangle of alarm.

“What is it?” asked Cricket. Hannah opened her eyes and sat up.

“Mickey? What’s wrong?”

“Liza,” he said. He clutched a piece of paper in his hand, looked down at it in wondering despair. “She—uh. She’s gone.”





26


Hannah

The trees around them sang with insects and frogs. Fireflies blinked a languid, slow brightness in the black.

“What do you mean? Gone?”

Hannah climbed out of the tub, grabbed one of the towels on the big pile and wrapped it around herself. The air was cold on her skin; her brother looked pale. He sank onto the big couch by the fireplace.

“I mean—” he said, looking up at her. “She left this note.”

“What does it say?” Hannah moved over to sit beside him, and he handed it to her. She dried off her hands and took it. Cricket sat in the chair across from them. Hannah read it out loud.

“I’m sorry to do this.

I just need some space from you right now.

You know it’s a long time coming. Stay here this weekend. Don’t call.

I do love you.

Liza”

“Did you fight?” asked Hannah.

The handwriting looked odd—scrawling and rushed. Hannah knew that Liza had beautiful penmanship—from all the lovely cards and notes she’d sent over the years. Hannah had in fact admired it, how elegant and looping it was. But maybe when you were upset enough to leave your husband, you weren’t worried about how you formed your letters.

“No,” he said, drawing the syllable out. “She was sick with a headache. We talked a little before and after she left the table. But she said she was just going to rest so that she could be well in the morning.”

“What does she mean? A long time coming?” asked Cricket. She’d wrapped up in a towel, too. She sat shivering a little, a worried wrinkle in her brow.

“I have no idea,” Mako said, dumping his head into his hands. “I mean. No marriage is perfect, right? We’ve had our issues.”

This was news to Hannah. She and Bruce had their issues—the things you argue about as a couple. He left his laundry on the bathroom floor instead of putting it in the basket; she dropped spent tea bags in the sink instead of putting them in the trash. She used his razor. Bruce was a workaholic. Hannah fussed over the baby too much. More recently her paranoia and snooping. But neither one of them were going to take off in the middle of the night, were they?

“What kind of issues?” She knew she sounded shrill, a little like Sophia.

“I don’t know, Hannah,” Mako said, voice sullen, not looking at her. “Things. Stuff. I don’t know.”

“Let’s call her,” said Hannah. “This is crazy.”

“She said not to call.”

“That’s bullshit.” Hannah got up to grab her phone from the picnic table, and pressed Liza’s contact. It went straight to voicemail.

Sorry I missed you. Leave a message. Namaste.

Both Cricket and Mako were watching her, looking young, stricken. Why did Cricket look so guilty?

“Hey, Liza, it’s Hannah. Look, I’m not sure what’s going on. But can you call back so we can talk? Please?”

Bruce pushed out through the sliding door.

“What’s up?” he asked, looking at Mako, then up to Hannah and Cricket. Cricket offered a recap.

“Okay,” said Bruce, his usual even, measured self. “Wow. Did you guys fight?”

Mako shook his head miserably, and Hannah could see that he was close to tears.

“It just doesn’t seem like her, does it?” Hannah asked. “To take off.”

It was true that Hannah and Liza weren’t close, but Liza had been with Mako for more than five years. It was safe to say that Hannah knew her sister-in-law. Liza was patient, unfailingly kind, polite, thoughtful. This kind of behavior was definitely out of character.

Unless.

From the upstairs window, had Liza maybe seen Cricket and Mako flirting, or something more, when Hannah and Bruce left them alone for their own little assignation?

The pieces didn’t fit together. And Mako didn’t seem right. A light sheen of sweat glistened on his brow. What the fuck was going on?

Hannah walked into the towering great room. Inside, on the kitchen island, pieces of chocolate cake sat sliced on dessert plates—their forgotten dessert. The surfaces were gleaming and clean.

When had the awful Chef Jeff and his unpleasant assistant left? Had they seen Liza leaving? Those two were like ghosts, slipping in when Hannah wasn’t looking, drifting out without a word.

Hannah climbed the stairs, shivering in the air-conditioning. At the end of the long upstairs hallway, she entered the master bedroom suite.

She heard the others follow her inside, Bruce talking low.

A huge four-poster bed dominated the room, and for a moment it looked like there was a sleeping form on the left side. She walked over to find pillows placed lengthwise beneath the sheets.