‘I write, online. I write about unresolved disappearances for about fifty thousand people. They all know I’m here. If you do anything to … to harm me – if I don’t come back – they will know where I’ve been. And if … if anything happens to me now, I’ve instructed someone to post the finished episode where I lay out the theory that I suspect – which isn’t flattering to you. It’ll get out. You’ll lose absolutely everything and everyone will know what happened.’

It’s all lies. I have nothing prepared. I’ve told no one I’m here.

If my words have affected him, he doesn’t show it. His expression doesn’t change; he doesn’t crumble. ‘Miss Mona,’ he says finally, arms unfolded and palms turned out, as though in submission, ‘let me tell you the story.’

PART THREE: Orion Waves

Part Three

ORION WAVES

CHAPTER 29

CHAPTER 29

Booker rises and takes a hesitant step towards me, feet crunching against the forest brush, and I take one back as he approaches. ‘Don’t,’ I say.

‘Kid, I’m not gonna –’

‘I mean it.’ He slowly raises his hands to his chest. A bead of sweat runs in between my shoulder blades and I shiver. I can’t tell if my bluff has worked perfectly or has not worked at all. It’s dark here in the woods, under the canopy of the trees.

‘I don’t care if a lick of what you just said is true,’ he responds. ‘I’m not gonna hurt you, kid. I think you know that.’

I strengthen my resolve. I’m very scared. I don’t trust him and I can’t let him see.

‘I need to know. It was an accident,’ I say. ‘Right?’

Booker doesn’t move.

‘You killed her by accident. And Archie knew and was in on it somehow, and Mary Anne covered for the both of you, and you shut off the woods so no one would know …’

He tries another step and I let him take it, ambling with a sort of heavy, uneven gait, and I feel the need to draw for something with nothing to draw for. Fists against him won’t do a thing. ‘To this day,’ he says, ‘all this time later – I still don’t understand how it could’ve happened.’

‘You better understand well enough to tell me.’

‘You don’t have to shoot your daggers at me. You can shoot ’em at me for being a liar and a coward because I’m guilty of that, but it can’t be because I’m a killer. I’m not.’

‘Then who is? Who did it?’

‘Kid –’

‘Who?’

‘I know about damned near everything and I still don’t understand.’ He’s near enough that I can see his eyes are red-rimmed.

‘Make it make sense.’