Of the Trees(84)

Just as Gibbons threw the end of his makeshift rope back into the well, a man crashed through the underbrush to Cassie’s right. She screamed.

“What happened?” Ryan yelled.

“Nothing,” Gibbons called down. “Climb if you can. We’re going to pull you out of here.”

The man who had appeared, another officer like Gibbons, grabbed at the makeshift rope and gave an almighty pull. Together the two officers hauled Ryan out of the hole, muddy and dripping wet but unharmed. Cassie ran into him as soon as he stood and he wrapped his arms around her.

Gibbons got on his radio, giving coordinates and calling for a medic. He pointed them in the direction of the road, and they marched, following a female police officer that was just ahead. A jacket was offered, and Cassie put it on, shivering uncontrollably.

Her parents came crashing through the woods just as Cassie saw the road ahead. They gripped her fiercely, both crying. Ryan’s parents weren’t far behind.

“Dad saw the car.”

“You never came home.”

“We were so worried!”

It was Officer Gibbons who had agreed to lead the search. Even though they would technically have had to wait in missing persons cases. Tonight, with the way the town had been plagued, he made the exception.

Cassie left the woods without looking back. Aidan may have been watching. She didn’t check, and she didn’t care.

She wouldn’t give him that satisfaction.





It wasn’t long before there was a body.

It looked like her, like Laney. When Cassie first saw it, cold and unmoving in the coffin, she felt drawn to her. She repeated, like a mantra, that it wasn’t Laney, it wasn’t real. But it was solid, firm. Her hair was dark and long, her skin pale. The small mole on the left side of her face, just skimming her jawline, was there. Every detail, every aspect of this body perfectly mimicked Laney’s.

The Blakes wept. Like wounded animals, they sobbed over their only daughter’s body. Part of Cassie felt that Laney must really be dead because no decent person could let their parents live through what her parents were living through.

There was a wake. Cassie skulked in the back, and most attendants left her alone. Rebecca stayed near her, two girls in an exclusive club that neither had ever wanted to belong to. The wake wasn’t like Jessica’s. There was no touching tribute on the lawn. Something had shifted. The line of mourners still wrapped around the building. The parents of the dead girl still stood next to the open coffin, shaking hands through red-rimmed eyes. The flowers were over-the-top and benignly descriptive. The change was with the students. One of their own was taken again. It was not some freak accident. It was more personal; someone was attacking them. Because two girls didn’t die accidentally from heart failure. Something had happened.

Officer Gibbons sat down next to Cassie. She had taken the back corner seat, watching the procession from a distance, the crowd keeping a respectful distance from her. Ryan and Jon hovered nearby. Her parents stood next to the Blakes, ready to be of assistance should one of them break.

“It’s a real shit day,” Gibbons said. Cassie nodded.

“Thank you,” she said. She stared forward, her attention inadvertently pinned to the coffin with the impostor body. “That could have been me.”

He nodded and pat her arm, getting up and moving to give his condolences to the family.

When the impossibly long line of grievers had finally abated, the front door closing on the soft pattering of rain from outside, Cassie sighed in relief.

Laney’s parents were saying their final goodbye. They weren’t crying now, they looked too exhausted to breathe.

Ryan was waiting with his parents by the front door. Cassie stood and walked over to him, reaching up on tiptoes to give him a kiss goodnight.

“Thank you,” she whispered, noting the widening eyes of his parents behind them. Her parents, too, would probably be surprised. Though how everyone in that room hadn’t seen this coming, this firming of whatever was going on between Cassie and Ryan, she didn’t know. He smiled gently and kissed her forehead, lingering just long enough for Cassie to blink back the tears that had formed. They whispered goodbyes and Cassie turned to find her mother’s open arms waiting for an embrace.

She went willingly, letting her mother cradle her.

“We can go get the car,” she whispered, “if you want a moment to say goodbye.”

Cassie nodded, not knowing what else to do. The Blakes were walking to the back room, following the funeral director and his soft condolences. Silhouetted by gray sky and pouring rain, her parents wrenched open the front door. Cassie watched them leave and then turned, alone in the room with the body that looked like Laney.

She walked slowly across the space. It seemed huge now, devoid of crushing bodies all slick with rain. The flowers were fragrant but wrong, not soft, like lavender, like Laney. The body itself was wrong.

Because, of course, it’s not her, Cassie thought, mentally chastising herself.

Laney was free, probably running wild and without care. It didn’t matter to her that her parents were heartsick, that Cassie was left incomplete, always turning to her side, waiting for Laney to fill in her blanks.

She couldn’t think of a thing to say to the lifeless body below her. Her features hardened, and she felt anger flood her bloodstream. She turned on her heel and ran from the room, ripping the door open and stepping into the rain.