The Last to Vanish(85)

“Your number came up in a list of people who were friends with Alice Kelly,” I continued. “I didn’t realize you knew her, Harris.”

“It was a long time ago, Abby,” he said as if this could still be salvaged. As if he could talk his way out of it, even though he’d cut the lines, the lights, and used a key he shouldn’t have to come after me. “What did you talk to her sister about?” he asked, like he was covering his bases, finding out how many people knew, how far gone this was.

He started moving again, a slow shuffling down the stairs—less sure of himself in the dark than I was.

“Just some old pictures,” I said. “You were in them, you know. And about how you met Alice. In a photography class.”

His footsteps continued down the stairs as I slipped around the corner, hand on the wall, thinking of options: my apartment; the back exit. Holding that poker in my grip. Feeling the safety of it, but only in theory.

“It’s okay,” I said as I kept moving away, slowly. I had learned something, living in Cutter’s Pass. You couldn’t keep your secrets if you wanted someone else’s. You had to trade them all. It was only fair. “I keep secrets, too, Harris. Did you know I saw Farrah? Did you know she told me that she met Alice once? I’m guessing she knew you, too.”

“You didn’t tell the police?” His voice had shifted—he was closer now. Down in this long hallway, with me.

“No,” I said, my hand brushing against my apartment door. Did I have time to get inside and lock it? And then what? Then where? I was only trapping myself, hoping he didn’t have another way in. “I didn’t say I saw her at all.”

“Why not?” he asked.

I thought of Celeste, the way I’d let her guide me. “Because someone told me not to.”

He laughed, one loud bark, echoing off the walls. “This place,” he said. “This fucking place.”

“I know,” I said.

“I didn’t want to come back here,” he said.

But I thought I understood. Alice. He had to. “I know you were on that hike, with Alice.” It didn’t matter what I knew, now. Only how I connected with him. He was going to harm me if I gave him the chance. I needed to keep him talking. Make my way to the exit, get a head start—

“She disappeared from Cutter’s Pass. From the Last Stop,” he said.

Except, not really. “No, she didn’t. I know she never made it out of the woods. Cory lied, which I doubt will come as a surprise to you.”

The silence stretched, and I thought he wouldn’t respond. But then he did. “It was an accident. I promise, it was an accident.” He was whispering, and he was so close, I knew if I reached out a hand, I’d be touching him. That he could reach out and grab me before I had time to get away. My options were running out. What I needed was time. More distance. My hand brushed against the first storage closet now. If I turned to run, he could catch me, and who would even notice? How long until someone came looking? Would I become just one more name in a list of people who had vanished here?

Another step, the second storage unit—so close now.

“I just wanted to talk to her, but she got spooked,” he continued. “I just wanted to talk, and she started running. She tripped, hit her head.” His breath caught. “I panicked. Abby, I panicked. Brought her down the trail, and I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do. But I got out of the woods late that night, and there was Vincent’s truck, just parked there. His keys in the visor.” No one here was afraid of any of the things we should be. “Like it wasn’t even my idea.”

Like it was this place. Always this place, making people do things. Everything outside our control.

“Where did you bring her?”

“Home.” A chill ran through my entire body, imagining the land I’d stood on. His wife and daughter, playing out there. “Then I brought the truck back and kept going. I don’t know, I just kept going. And nothing happened. Cory said he saw her at the tavern. So did others. And it was like, it hadn’t even happened. Like maybe I’d dreamed the whole thing. A terrible nightmare, an alternate existence. And we could all pretend she was still out there somewhere. It’s better that way, Abby. No one even asked me one question.”

“Until Farrah.” I stepped back again, knowing, for sure, what he had done. Knowing I had to get away.

“Yeah.” A pause—he was so close, and I was out of space. Did he know where we stood? How he had me cornered, with only one place to go now? One palm on the handle—?“She saw me in Springwood. I was with my family. They were checking out after a doctor’s appointment and I was waiting outside, and she walked right by me. I didn’t recognize her. Not until she called my name. Even then, took me a second. Around here, James is my grandfather. Only people from college called me James. Seven years, such a long time.” Run, I wanted to tell her now.

Go.

It was time. There was no other choice. I pushed my body against the door and turned to run. The cool night air, the crunch of grass under my shoes—and Harris, a step behind, lunging in a flash, hand around my arm, pulling me back against the rough exterior of the inn.

“Where are you going?” he asked. The poker in my other arm; time stretching; everything in a balance. God, he was faster than I thought. Alice. Farrah.