The Hollows(9)

I wondered how many of the people staying here were dark tourists. The mindset was alien to me. Of course, I understood the human urge that makes people slow down at the scene of an accident, or that draws us to read news stories about murders and child abductions. But to choose your holiday destination based on such terrible things? Where do you fancy going this year? Disneyland? A Spanish beach? I know – how about that place where two teachers were ritually murdered? If I’d known, I wouldn’t have brought Frankie here. I would have chosen one of the many other resorts in New England.

As I neared our cabin, I spotted our other nearest neighbours on the deck of cabin fifteen, sitting at their outdoor table with coffee mugs in front of them. Two women in late middle age. One of them caught my eye as I passed so I went over to say hello and introduce myself.

They were both dressed as if they were going on a hike. The woman closest to me had curly brown hair with grey streaks and introduced herself as Tamara.

‘Donna,’ said the other one, a thickset woman with a slightly startled expression. She had auburn hair and looked a little older than Tamara. There was a walking pole leaning against her chair. Yes, definitely going on a hike.

We exchanged small talk for a minute, before I decided to bring up the topic that was lurking like an elephant in the woods.

‘So . . . are you guys here because of Everett Miller?’

‘Who?’

‘You haven’t heard of him? Jesus, I’m glad I’m not the only one.’

I’d noticed Donna wince while I spoke. It took me a beat to figure out why: the gold cross dangling from a chain around her neck. Her fingers kept straying to it, in the same way a tongue constantly returns to a sharp tooth.

‘Sorry,’ I said, feeling myself flush. ‘My language.’ This earned me a tight smile. Eager to leave the awkwardness behind, I pushed on, giving them a short version of what David and Connie had recounted the night before.

‘Oh, isn’t that just great,’ said Donna. ‘I came here to get away from all that.’

All that? Had there just been a spate of ritual murders where they came from? I was afraid to ask for clarification.

‘She’s been under a lot of stress lately,’ said Tamara, patting Donna’s shoulder. ‘We both have.’ She gave Donna an affectionate look. It made me wonder all the more what had happened to them. Had one of them been ill? I was also unsure if they were a couple or if they were just friends.

‘Perhaps we should find somewhere else to stay,’ Tamara offered. ‘I don’t want you fretting.’

Donna frowned and addressed me as if I were the expert. ‘It happened twenty years ago, you say?’

‘Almost exactly. It was a one-off.’ I wished I hadn’t mentioned any of it to them. ‘As far as I know, nothing has happened since. If I didn’t think this was a safe place, I wouldn’t stay here with my daughter.’

‘Twenty years,’ Donna said, touching her gold cross again. ‘I’m sure we have nothing to worry about.’

Tamara seemed relieved.

As I headed back to my cabin, glad my need to gossip hadn’t caused them to overreact, I found someone on the front steps, knocking on the door. A large man wearing a red polo shirt and holding a clipboard. It was the guy who’d checked us in. The manager. What was his name? As he turned to greet me I saw it pinned to his chest. Greg.

‘Hey, Mr Anderson. Just doing my rounds, making sure everything’s okay.’

Was I imagining it, or did he seem a little nervous? Like he’d had lots of complaints and was bracing himself for another.

‘Everything’s great,’ I said.

‘I’m so glad.’ He definitely looked relieved. He was sweating in the heat and he produced a handkerchief from his pocket and mopped his brow. He plucked a sheet of paper from his clipboard and handed it to me, his thumb leaving a damp imprint behind. ‘I’d encourage you and your daughter to sign up for as many activities as you can before all the slots fill up.’

He carried on, telling me about all the wonderful things they had on offer. To be fair, it did all sound appealing. Rafting, kayaking, tennis, a ‘teddy-bear hunt’ for small children, even a moose safari. Horse riding leapt out at me – Frankie would love that – and I still fancied trying archery again.

‘Can I put your names down for our big campfire event? It’s on Wednesday night and there’s going to be a barbecue and live music. We have an awesome band booked. It’s a great chance for all our guests to meet.’

‘And talk about their favourite murderer?’

He froze. ‘Excuse me?’

‘I’m just kidding.’

But Greg’s smile had vanished and the sweat was pouring off him even more profusely. ‘That’s really not something we like to talk about. It was a long time ago and it was a completely different place then.’

‘I’m sorry,’ I said. ‘It’s just that David and Connie in cabin twelve told me there are lots of dark tourists here.’

His expression of shock seemed genuine. ‘Dark tourists?’

‘I assumed you would have known that. They’re all talking about it on some website for people who are into serial killers and grisly crimes.’

The remains of his smile slipped away. ‘I’ll have to look into that. Shall I put you down for two tickets?’