Chapters (62)
- Cover
- Copyright Notice
- Dedication
- Chapter One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-one
- Chapter Twenty-two
- Chapter Twenty-three
- Chapter Twenty-four
- Chapter Twenty-five
- Chapter Twenty-six
- Chapter Twenty-seven
- Chapter Twenty-eight
- Chapter Twenty-nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-one
- Chapter Thirty-two
- Chapter Thirty-three
- Chapter Thirty-four
- Chapter Thirty-five
- Chapter Thirty-six
- Chapter Thirty-seven
- Chapter Thirty-eight
- Chapter Thirty-nine
- Chapter Forty
- Chapter Forty-one
- Chapter Forty-two
- Chapter Forty-three
- Chapter Forty-four
- Chapter Forty-five
- Chapter Forty-six
- Chapter Forty-seven
- Chapter Forty-eight
- Chapter Forty-nine
- Chapter Fifty
- Chapter Fifty-one
- Chapter Fifty-two
- Chapter Fifty-three
- Chapter Fifty-four
- Chapter Fifty-five
- Chapter Fifty-six
- Chapter Fifty-seven
- Acknowledgments [TK]
- Also by Wendy Walker
Nic followed him through the door behind the desk. It led to an office, which had another door to the outside. There was a bluestone patio which was overgrown with weeds. Moss caked most of the stones and a rotten picket fence framed the square. Piled in the corner were an old, rusted out firepit and some lawn chairs. On the far side was a shed.
“We use this in the summer. Or we used to anyway, back when we had more guests. Some nights, we’d be full up. Kids, parents, everyone sitting around by the fire at night.”
Nic could not imagine it. The state of disintegration, of disrepair—it was like a testament to the agony this town had endured since its economic spiral.
She followed Roger Booth to the shed. He opened the padlock, and then the doors.
Inside were some gardening tools and equipment. A John Deere lawn mower sat in the corner, thick with dust. A small generator was beside that. Tiki torches rested against a wall.
And hanging just above them was a row of shot guns.
“You gonna give me one of those?” Nic asked. “To shoot the bears?”
“You know how to shoot?” Roger asked.
“I missed that class at my private school.”
Roger smiled. “I was thinking more along this line.”
He handed her a small black canister.
“It’s just pepper spray. Problem is, you gotta get pretty close before it’ll work.”
Nic took the spray, examining the nozzle and trigger. Roger adjusted her into the right position. His hands were stronger than she had thought. His fingers long and lean.
“Like this,” he said. “Point and squeeze.”
“How far will it spray?”
“About six feet.”
Roger stepped away and led them out of the shed. He clicked the padlock back on the doors.
“So if I see a bear, I have to let it charge me and then spray and hope it stops?”
Roger nodded and smiled. “He might get in one good swipe.”
“Okay,” Nic said. “Better maimed than dead, I suppose.”
“Exactly.”
They walked around the fence where there was nothing but open woods. The trees were tall but bare. Nic could tell she would be able to weave through them.
Roger pointed toward the sun.
“Head toward the sunset. Don’t make any turns. When you’ve had enough, turn around and come straight back. That way you won’t get lost.”
“I’ll bring my phone. Just in case.”
“Okay. Good luck.”
Roger stood at the edge of the tree line.
Nic turned, took a few steps, then stopped. “Can I ask you something?” she said.
He nodded. “Sure.”
“Did you know a woman named Daisy Hollander?”
Booth stared blankly.
“Yeah,” he said. “She was a girl from high school.”
“Who disappeared?” Nic asked.
“Who told you that?”
“I just heard it around. Any idea what happened to her?”