Of the Trees(56)

“We’re still checking into everything, Miss Harris,” the officer said, his tone dismissive.

“Have you found the clearing yet?” she asked, irritated at being dismissed so easily.

“The clearing?” Officer Gibbons started, sounding annoyed. “Ah yes, the basin in the middle of the forest with huge roots that people were sitting on. There was a fire pit too, right? And an unearthly mist that seemed to descend and float all over everything.”

“I never said anything about any mist,” Cassie said, jerking up and staring at the police officers.

“You know,” Officer Gibbons cut in, his voice dark and serious, “if you kids would quit messing around and just outright tell us what the hell happened that night, our job would be a damn sight easier. As it is, we’ve got an autopsy report that says one thing and a body that says another. A bunch of kids getting drunk and screwing around with each other and—”

“I wasn’t drunk, and I wasn’t screwing around,” Cassie interrupted hotly. “I was trying to help.”

Officer Gibbons leaned in close, his breath smelled of bitter coffee. “Have you seen that picture, Miss Harris? We have. And you do admit you were drinking that night, don’t you? Your own friends have told us you were in no position to see anything that could help us.”

Cassie paled at his mention of the picture. She looked around, noting her parents watching them from across the room. “Sorry I bothered you,” she said through pursed lips. She stood, turned her back on the police officers, and stalked to the front of the room. She twined her fingers with Rebecca’s once more, tolerating her firm pressure until the end of the line of mourners.





Laney was sitting on the Harris’ porch steps when they got home. Cassie hadn’t seen her leave the funeral home, but she hadn’t really been looking either. Her parents looked from her to Laney, waiting for Cassie’s cue.

“Cass, please,” Laney said, standing from the step. “It’s been almost a week.” Cassie saw her mother raise her eyebrows, but Patrick ushered them both past Laney and into the house, flipping the porch light on as they shut the door. It was cold and quiet. The crickets and bugs gone for the year. Not even the wind brushed through the leaves. Cassie stood, waiting Laney out.

“I’m sorry,” Laney said. It was soft and tentative. She didn’t even make eye contact as she said it, her words trailing off with a helpless little flutter of her hands. Cassie gritted her teeth.

“It’s not a joke, you know,” Cassie started, flaring up. She was tired and miserable. Her hand hurt from being squeezed in Rebecca’s. She couldn’t get the sight of Jessica’s waxy face out of her head. The police had riled her up, and she still didn’t understand what they meant when they talked about the mist. “She’s dead, and Jude must know something, and you doing what you did just makes it harder for the cops to figure out how she died.”

“It doesn’t—”

“It does!” Cassie shouted. “You made me look crazy! Like I was just drunk and horny and not in control of myself and I’m blaming it all on Jude. Everyone is passing around and talking about that stupid picture like I’m some whore. And you know, that’s not the truth. There’s something wrong with them. Something really wrong.”

“Not wrong, you just don’t understand,” Laney argued quietly.

“Jess was with him, and now she’s dead,” Cassie fired back. “I don’t need to understand any more than that.”

“They didn’t … ” Laney blew out a breath. “Obviously what happened was a tragedy. But they didn’t mean for it to happen. It wasn’t malicious. It wasn’t on purpose.”

“But they know. They know how she died.” It wasn’t a question because Cassie could tell from the way Laney said it, she knew. She knew how it happened, maybe why. And another realization, like ice water thrown over her, dawned on Cassie. “You’re still seeing him—them.”

Laney stared across the dark lawn at her friend. She didn’t speak, she didn’t have to. Cassie didn’t even need the tentative lift of one shoulder to confirm. Laney was still dating Corey. She had seen him and Jude and the others after the night Jessica died. She knew where they were, or at least how to get in touch with them. Cassie was stunned. Somehow, in the horror and guilt of what had happened to Jessica, Cassie had just assumed that it was over, that Laney wouldn’t see them again, that she would be just as horrified as Cassie, and that would be it. But no, she was seeing him, protecting him. It wasn’t over for Laney.

“You have to tell someone,” Cassie said. Her mouth felt dry, and the words came out haltingly. Laney’s stance shifted. Her muscles tightened, and she narrowed her eyes.

“There’s nothing to tell. You told them already. Jude was with her. Corey, too. And if they want to pursue that lead, then fine.”

“But they know how she died! They were there. They saw it,” Cassie said. She could hear the hysteria seeping into her voice. Paranoia firmed its grasp on her mind. She looked past her friend to the silent, swaying tree line. She imagined she could see figures weaving between the trees; dark, silent forms that stared and watched, waiting for Cassie to slip up. She took a step closer to Laney, closer to the house, feeling the eyes on her back.