The Box in the Woods (Truly Devious #4)(22)

This could only be Allison Abbott. The resemblance to Sabrina was unmistakable—she had the same big brown eyes, the same determined look. She looked to be in her midfifties, with short, dark hair, graying only at the temples. She looked at the coffees and muffins in Stevie’s, Janelle’s, and Nate’s hands and opened her mouth to speak.

“Sorry,” Stevie said.

“Oh, that’s okay, it’s fine,” Carson cut in. “You can drink in here.”

Allison bit her lower lip but said nothing.

“This is Stevie Bell—from Ellingham Academy,” Carson said, in what Stevie realized was going to be the standard way she would be introduced around the town. Janelle and Nate were not introduced.

The walls were painted a happy sky blue. There were





lights suspended from the ceiling in the shape of fluffy clouds, and Carson proudly demonstrated the various effects he could achieve with them—bright light, pink clouds, a rainy day effect. There were readying stations with beanbags (this man loved a beanbag maybe more than anyone had ever loved anything), a fake indoor tree with a small treehouse, long, low tables for games, and racks and racks of books.

“It’s a beautiful room,” Allison said. “The kids are going to love it. We already have loads of events scheduled—story times, board game afternoons, writing classes.”

Carson nodded absently and continued fiddling with the controls for the cloud ceiling fixtures.

“My sister,” Allison said, turning to Stevie, Janelle, and Nate, “she worked here, in the library. She passed away.”

“We were going to put in a mural of Sabrina,” Carson added. “But—”

“It would be difficult,” Allison cut in. “I think the room is the perfect tribute to her, especially this.”

She indicated a giant turtle in the corner that contained bench seats and a little table, perfect for children to sit in.

“She loved turtles,” Allison said. “She would have loved that—kids reading in a big turtle.”

“Looks like we’re all good for tonight’s event?” Carson said. “Lots of people coming?”

“I think it’s going to be well attended.”

“Good! Good.” He nodded. “Well, have to get over to the camp. See you tonight at the picnic!”

Stevie took every step carefully, not wanting to spill a





drop of coffee on the floor.

“So that,” Carson said as the group got back into the Tesla, “is Barlow Corners. Allison is one of the most vocal family survivors. She really keeps the case alive—stays in touch with the police, that kind of thing.”

“That’s really nice what you did,” Janelle said. “Building a reading room like that for her sister’s memory.”

“Yeah,” Carson said, pulling out onto the road. “It helps me get the town on my side, for the show. I spent a few hundred thousand—but if I play it right, the show may be worth in the millions.”

Janelle cast Stevie a sideways glance.

“Charity runs both ways, right?” Nate said from the back seat.





6



CAMP SUNNY PINES WAS A FEW MINUTES’ DRIVE FROM THE CENTER OF town, on a road that ran alongside a low and slow-moving creek. The sign was made of brown wood, with the camp named burned in and painted white. The road wove through the trees for a moment, then opened up into a wide expanse of fields and low buildings. Carson parked and the trio got their things out of the back of the car. They followed Carson to the large dining pavilion, hauling their suitcases and bags over the gravel of the parking area. Stevie’s cheap suitcase had even cheaper wheels, which gave up once they got a stone stuck in them. She dragged the bag the rest of the way, scraping it along the concrete floor of the pavilion and leaving grass and skid marks as it went. Inside the pavilion, a woman was supervising a small crew that was assembling welcome packages while fielding phone calls.

“That’s Nicole,” Carson said in a low voice. “Agree to everything she says. We’ll work it out later.”

This was an ominous statement.

Nicole looked up and noted their arrival with a nod but





no smile, and came over while she continued her conversation, which turned out to be about septic tanks. Nicole was a tall woman, probably about six feet, with her hair tied back in a brown ponytail. She wore long swim shorts, a fitted running top, and a whistle around her neck. Stevie could see many things in Nicole all at once. Whatever time you woke up, Nicole woke up earlier than you, when the day was young and the sun just born. She made a complete breakfast, which contained protein, fruit, and maybe even a vegetable. She accomplished things that she’d put on a list the night before. She stretched in the fresh air. She forged a trail. She punched into the future with a mighty fist. She knew who she was, where she was going, and why she was better than you. But go ahead, whine about how tired you are. She will listen. She will crush you with her eyes. You will emerge smaller from the encounter because she has compressed your spine.

Or something like that. She had a whistle, anyway.

After the first general round of introductions was made, Nicole took a long nasal inhale and gazed across the picnic table at the assembled.