“Remember? It fell off the bed? She said she didn’t rent a car here and that she prefers a driver at home. She said the key was from home. It’s an old-school style key. If she is as wealthy as she claims, why would she have an older vehicle?”
He stroked his chin. “What you’re saying is suspicious but circumstantial, not concrete evidence.”
“I know. It’s all vibes,” Emma murmured. “I can’t shake my gut instinct that she’s hiding something. The key fob is for a standard vehicle. It’s old-school. You’d have to turn the ignition with it. Seems out of place for her.”
They already knew Margaux wasn’t disclosing everything. Emma brought up valid points. But he needed to protect her even from herself.
He almost asked her what she knew about a car accident involving Jennifer or if she’d heard anything about a mystery investor. As far as he could tell, every woman in the bunk kept a secret. But sharing his concerns would only rattle an already anxious Emma. Paranoia didn’t mix well with the great outdoors. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Listen.” She stepped closer and lightly touched his forearm. “I need to warn you about something.”
Something else? He wasn’t sure how much he could process at one time. He gulped.
“The women think I like you.” She blushed and dropped her hand from his sleeve. “I know that’s so high school and embarrassing. But I figured I’d go along with it. Gives us an excuse to stick close and head out together. I think they’re all bored married women, looking for a little excitement.”
But you don’t like me? He liked her. If he didn’t tell her now, he might not get a chance. How did he form the words? He rubbed his clammy palms on his pants.
The door to the bunk opened and snapped shut.
“Oh good, you’re here,” Margaux said.
He shut his mouth, saved from a response he wasn’t ready to verbalize.
“Did you tell him the plan? Is he ready to go?” Margaux asked from the step, Jennifer and Christine behind her, all dressed for the day and with backpacks on.
“She did,” Daniel replied. “And you all look prepared. But I need to pack a bag. Can I meet you at the mess hall for a quick breakfast and to gather some more supplies? Food? Flashlights? Waters?”
“Good idea,” Jennifer said. “We’ll need lots of marshmallows.”
“Yes, let’s bring the essentials,” Christine added.
The trio set off up the path.
What had he agreed to do? He regretted agreeing. But maybe between the old journal and buried secrets, he’d find the answers. And ease Emma’s heart. Maybe she’d decide to stay.
Emma lingered, hanging back.
He should take the moment to revisit their earlier conversation. Feelings could make the tense situation even more complicated and confusing. But then he’d be faced with the truth, and he might not like what she had to say. Longing for her to come home for good was a ridiculous dream. He knew in his brain but couldn’t stop his heart from yearning. “You’d better grab breakfast. I’ll meet you there. We’ll have time to chat. We’ll have nothing else to do on the hike.”
She pursed her lips, and for a second he thought she might protest. But she nodded and walked away, catching up with the others. Would there ever be an opportune moment to talk about them? Or should he accept the inevitable goodbye?
Ten
Emma followed the others into the mess hall. Despite the prime time for breakfast service, the large room was almost empty. Only a handful of former campers lingered at a table near the door.
Near the entrance to the kitchen, someone had laid out a spread of fresh fruit, cereals, and granola bars on a table. With the Thomases in mourning, the typical hot breakfast was off the menu. Emma grabbed a handful of items for her backpack.
The hike shouldn’t last more than a night. She didn’t want to hoard—and felt conspicuous as wrappers crinkled in the quiet space—but she wasn’t sure anything would be replenished during their absence. She packed enough food for a few days.
“Do we have everything?” Jennifer asked.
“I’d like to get something more substantial for our campout. Like hot dogs,” Christine said. “Do you suppose we could sneak into the kitchen? I don’t think Mrs. Thomas would mind, but I don’t want to be disrespectful,” Christine murmured.
The screen door opened and shut as the others left the mess hall.
“I think this is our chance to get what we need. The Thomases wouldn’t mind. I’ll grab water bottles,” Emma added. “Better safe than sorry.”
“I can be lookout,” Margaux said.
