“What do you mean?”
“Look here. The packing list has everything the campers are supposed to bring with them, but ‘hammock’ is added onto it.” I look over at Sam, who stares back through his intensely green eyes, confusion written all over him.
Then something hits me. “I know where she is.”
Sam chases behind me as I rush back toward the parking area near the office.
“Emma, what’s going on?” Sam asks, climbing into the passenger seat beside me.
“Give me your keys,” I say.
He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his keys. I snatch them and stick them in the ignition, shooting out of the parking space as soon as the engine turns over.
“Where are we going? What did you figure out?”
“She didn’t have her sleeping bag with her, which is what most campers sleep in when they’re camping, right?” I ask.
“Yes.”
He sounds unsure, but he’s listening to me.
“And if she’s not in her sleeping bag, it’s unlikely she’s going to be somewhere on the ground. The ‘I’ in the word was intentionally hard to see. He wanted people to think it was ‘stars’ because that’s what campers do. They sleep under the stars. All three of these are linked. She was taken after Lights Out to sleep under the stars, but not really. She’s not going to be out in a field or at a campground. She’s going to be somewhere with something she didn’t have when she arrived at camp… a hammock. Do you remember the summer before you left for college, and you took me on a hike?”
“I thought I knew the area and didn’t bring a map with me. We got lost and ended up in a cave in the middle of the mountain,” he muses. “It rained, and we stayed in the cave until the middle of the night.”
“It wasn’t just a cave. There was a rock formation over it. When we finally got back, you looked at the map of the area and found the rock formation. It was nowhere near where we meant to go in the first place, but it was really nice, and you wanted to be able to go back sometime. It was flat rocks sticking out of the side of the mountain, leading up to a plateau at the top. Do you remember what it was called?”
I look over at Sam and see his face go gray.
“The Stairway to Heaven.”
* * *
Sam doesn’t try to conceal the pain in his eyes and the weight on his shoulders when he walks up to the podium this time. Murmurs ripple through the group of reporters gathered in front of him as he stares down at his hands gripping the sides of the stand and draws in a long breath. I wish there was something I could do to help him, but I’m relegated behind him. He has to do this on his own.
“A tip received this morning led to the investigation of a previously unsearched area just outside of town. This mountain area was not considered an area of interest due to the information we had at the time. Upon searching the area, we uncovered a set of human remains. Her body was tightly wrapped in a hammock hanging inside a cave. The body is in an advanced stage of decomposition, but preliminary examinations suggest these are the remains of ten-year-old Alice Brooks. Obviously, this is not the conclusion we were hoping for in this case. The team is actively investigating, and our focus is on finding out who did this to Alice while also doing everything we can to bring Caleb and Eva home. Our thoughts and prayers are with the Brooks family. Please respect their privacy during this extremely difficult stage. There will be no questions at this time.”
Sam leaves the podium among a flurry of protests, but he doesn’t care. He owes nothing to the reporters. They weren’t there when we scrambled up the narrow stone pathway in the mountain. They didn’t breathe in the tainted air that was the first indication we were getting close to Alice. They aren’t the ones who saw the twisted hammock sagging from hooks driven into the rocks.
The image of the dark fluids pooled at the bottom of the swell wrapped in the fabric and the sinking knowledge it was her will never leave him.
It will never leave me, either.
Chapter Eighteen
I stand in the shower for as long as the hot water holds out. The steam of the heat and the sound of the water streaming around me creates a buffer that guards me from everything outside. I just want to stay in here, but soon the water cools, and the steam starts to fade out of the room. I climb out and wrap myself in a thick white towel. The management company put them in the closet after the last renters moved out, wanting to create a homey atmosphere for other potential renters. They’ve never been touched, but now I’ve claimed them as mine.
I walked into the bathroom as soon as Sam brought me home, which means I have no clothes to change into. The ones piled on the floor won’t ever touch my skin again. I fully plan on tossing them into the trash as soon as I can bring myself to touch them again. I don’t want the reminder of helping Sam bring the hammock down.
Wrapped in the towel, I walk out of the bathroom and into the bedroom just a few steps away. When I’m dressed in stretch pants and a t-shirt, the smell of peppermint tea lures me downstairs and into the kitchen. Sam’s standing beside the stove, staring at a red enamel teapot sitting on the front burner. He doesn’t notice me coming into the room.
I watch him for a few seconds. He was one of the things I relied on the most about Sherwood, one of the things I looked forward to most. Older than me by two years, he was always sweet and magnetic. I could rely on him for a deep, meandering conversation about topics most other people my age didn’t want anything to do with, but also for an unpredictable laugh. We spent as much time together as we could, but it got harder as the stretches I was away got longer. I never worried what it was going to be like when I finally found my way back to him. Because I was always going to.
No matter how long it was, the moment we saw each other again, it was like there had been no separation at all. We’d pick up our conversation like one of us had just taken a breath and settle right back into the comfortable, easy flow of our friendship. It was much harder than I could have ever expected when he left for college. We’d already been apart. Many times. But it was different when he was the one who left. I didn’t know how long it would be to see him again, and by the time I did, everything had changed. I wasn’t the same person.
The next time I walked away from him, it would be for seven years.
Sam glances over and realizes I’m there. He turns to me, and our eyes linger on each other.
“You’re still here,” I say.
“I wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he tells me.
“I’m not.”
He shakes his head. “Neither am I.”
Holding mugs of the fragrant, soothing tea, we make our way back into the living room and sit on the couch. There are words waiting to be said between us.
“What did you mean about your vacation being therapist recommended?” Sam finally asks. I let out a breath, my eyes dropping to the floor. “I’m sorry. That’s none of my business. You probably don’t want to talk about it.”
I shake my head, running my fingers back through my hair as I lean forward to set my mug down.
“No, it’s fine. Um.” I try to decide exactly how to tell him and realize I just have to let the words happen. “Four months ago, I went undercover for an assignment. It was the first time I was in the field for six months.”
“What was the assignment?” he asks.