One Step Too Far (Frankie Elkin #2)(28)

He nods. “Beaverton has quite a few major tech firms. Scotty, Neil, and I all work in that area. Josh went the manufacturing route, but his firm is just around the corner. Getting to be you can’t throw a rock without hitting an enginerd in that town.”

“But no catching up at bars after work, weekly game of hoops, periodic college reunions?”

“We tried, after we came back. But . . . it didn’t feel the same anymore. No one knew what to say. How to act. Do we sit around and talk about Tim? Do we pretend it never happened? We couldn’t figure it out. Josh broke first. Stopped coming around, returning calls. When Marty contacted us about a renewed search effort one year later, I was surprised Josh showed up. It was the first time any of us had seen him in months. He seemed distant, but who were we to tell him how to cope? He continued to withdraw after that, though. I heard rumors of a DUI. That he was having difficulty at work. I thought of picking up the phone, but I just couldn’t do it. Two days ago was the first time I’d seen him since last year. Just looking at him . . . Goddammit. We fucking failed him. Again.”

He throws another rock into the water, then a second, third, fourth, in rapid succession. No fancy skipping, just unfocused rage.

“We’re all here because Marty owns our asses and he knows it,” Miguel says at last. “But even assuming we stumble upon Tim’s body tomorrow . . . will that actually change anything? Will Josh stop drinking? Will Martin finally hate us less than we hate ourselves?”

He glances at me but I don’t answer because I already know it’s not my words he needs. This kind of search is distinctly personal. For some, finding answers does bring closure. For others, finally knowing what happened to their loved one only makes their nightmares that much more specific.

Miggy returns to staring at the rippling lake. “I was scared that night,” he states abruptly.

“Because Scott had already disappeared?”

“Because . . . because of the screams and that noise and . . .” He shakes his head.

I wait.

He picks up three more stones and fires them off.

“We were so damn drunk. Sometimes, I’m not sure what even happened. Was it a bad memory or a fragment of a nightmare or an alcohol-induced hallucination? We hiked in. We set up. Campfire, dinner, beer. Then . . . everything went to shit. Yelling and screaming, sounds from the woods. Scott’s gone and Josh . . . Josh is so upset. And I know why except I don’t know why. It’s like a blurry movie reel, and the more I try to see, the more out of focus it gets.”

“When you first think about that night, what immediately pops into your head? How do you feel?”

“Terrified.”

“What do you want to do?”

“Get away. Get the hell out of the woods. Never look back.”

“And the others? Josh, Neil, and Scott?”

“Josh doesn’t speak of it. Neil and Scott are of the nothing-you-can-do-to-change-the-past school of thought. They’ve moved on the most.” Miggy pauses, smiles at something I don’t get. “Kind of.”

I switch gears. “How’d you meet Tim?”

“Freshman year at OSU. We were waiting outside a TA’s office, got to talking, learned we were both engineering students. Josh was my roommate. Tim was with Neil and Scott. We all started hanging out, given we had plenty of classes together. Junior year we rented an apartment together. Then, upon graduation, we all got a house in Beaverton. Dudeville, Tim called it. Home of Friday night beers, Saturday mayhem, Sunday recovery. God, those were good times.”

“What happened?”

“Life.” Miguel shrugs. “Promotions to more demanding jobs, casual dates turning into serious relationships. You can only be young and stupid for so long, though we certainly gave it our all.”

“One of you introduced Tim to his fiancée, right?”

“Neil. He worked with Latisha. She was in marketing.”

“Do you still see her?”

“The first year, sure. But it’s difficult, when the only thing you have in common is what you lost. She didn’t blame us. Not like Martin. She’ll tell you, if Tim had to . . . meet his end . . . out in the mountains doing what he loved best was the right way for him to go.”

“Why isn’t she here? I read she was a big hiker as well.”

“She’s pregnant.”

“She met someone? Good for her.”

“You mean good for her and Scott.”

I blink my eyes several times. “You mean . . .”

“Yep. They wed in March. Small ceremony. Tim’s parents didn’t attend. Neither did the rest of us.”

“How do you feel about—”

“I don’t.”

“What about Josh and Neil? Surely they have opinions about one of Tim’s friends marrying his former fiancée.”

“You should ask them.”

I can already read the answer on Miggy’s face, however. The union between Scott and Latisha isn’t a happy development for the rest of the crew. Which means: yet more tension in our group that isn’t really a group.

“What is your goal for this week?” I ask Miggy now.

“You mean, other than to find Tim’s remains and bring him home?”

“Do you want that?”