She wobbled and righted herself. “Yes, I can do this. And no, I don’t need to compromise the search. You’ll need both shovels if you want to dig the time capsule out.” She took an unsure step forward and then another, walking away from the safety of his arms. “See? I’ll be fine. I’ll go slow. And I don’t have to worry about cutting through the forest. I’ll step in our footprints on the way back.”
“Okay,” Daniel said. “I’ll take the lead now.”
Emma bit the inside of her cheek. She didn’t care for that solution. She liked the security of being near him and hated to think about what waited for her at the end of their trek. Beyond their treasure hunt, she wouldn’t have more days with him. As soon as Owen’s memorial service concluded, she’d go home, and Daniel would stay here. Any chance for them to be something more would vanish. Unless she made peace and remained. Could she?
“By all means. I won’t fight you,” Christine said.
Emma forced a chuckle, and the quartet fell into a new formation. At the back, Emma glanced over her shoulder several times, monitoring Jennifer’s progress until she disappeared into the forest and the distance between them became too great for easy tracking. Then Emma faced forward, not wanting another accident.
With her gaze focused on her feet, Emma almost didn’t notice the subtle change in a section of dirt. The odd raised section, however, tripped her up. She caught herself before falling to the ground, grateful no one saw her near collision after the jumpy nerves following Jennifer’s stumble. She steadied herself and looked closer, realizing she’d stumbled over a dried tire track.
Had someone stashed a vehicle out here? Why drive off-road so far from the main passageways through the camp? Unless it was a red sedan with front end damage. She hated how quickly her mind latched onto paranoia. She had to focus on the present. The only way through was forward. So she kept plodding ahead and willed herself not to look—or think—behind.
Without Jennifer, the mood sobered quickly. If Daniel had found the constant chatter annoying earlier, he’d been foolish. The silence was deafening.
The crunch of leaves, snap of twigs, and occasional bird song didn’t alleviate the quiet. The group moved with an all-consuming, oppressive dread. He hated the negative swirl of his own thoughts. But he couldn’t ignore his gut instincts, honed with his profession.
Jennifer and Christine were fit, sporty ladies who enjoyed hiking. They’d trekked these paths already this weekend, and the group relied on their expertise to follow the overgrown trail.
So either Jennifer faked her injury—or timed was more accurate given the very real swelling they all witnessed—or someone set up a trap, creating the fake burrow and camouflaging it with leaves.
To hit that exact spot and twist an ankle seemed unlikely if a mysterious third party wanted to reduce their numbers. But he believed Jennifer’s reaction and genuine surprise. He’d watched her hobble off, and she never slipped and put weight on her injured foot. If he accepted that she was really injured, could he also conclude the accident was a coincidence? He was too on edge.
Foul play? Or poor visibility?
He couldn’t shake Emma’s white as a ghost reaction. If she had seen some indication of trouble, she would have found a way to pull him aside and tell him. He hated that they couldn’t speak freely because of their companions. He longed to talk one on one and help get her through a difficult time. Because he wanted to heal her past and be part of her future. He couldn’t lie to himself anymore about his intentions toward her. But neither was it fair to open his heart as she sifted through so much pain and tried to make sense of a tragedy that had pulled them apart.
“Ugh,” Christine said. “I can’t do this silence anymore.”
“We can’t exactly play the license plate game out here,” Emma replied.
He was glad to hear the lightness in her tone. If he had misgivings, he must be alone. That was for the best. He didn’t want her weighed down with anything more than the burdens she always carried. He’d like the chance to help ease those off her shoulders. But he’d be glad for any little moment of levity. “And I won’t participate in Truth or Dare.”
Sniggers greeted his comment. He smiled, still facing forward as he pressed on, his eyes roving the ground for any more holes or evidence of traps.
“Worried about your integrity?” Christine teased. “Fair enough. I’ve learned over the years that I don’t really want or need everyone’s truth either.”
“What do you mean?” Emma asked.
He was intrigued, too, by the reflective comment.
“Most people present a version of themselves to the world that I’m happy to accept. I don’t need to know everyone’s secrets. In fact, I prefer not to know,” Christine said. “You can’t unlearn things.”
Like if a friend committed murder two decades ago? And was covering their tracks for now? Daniel wasn’t sure Christine realized she implicated Jennifer with the comment. Christine would be an accomplice if her best friend was involved. He knew that with absolute certainty.
“I’m out of ideas for games. The trees are too thick to look up at the clouds,” Margaux added. “And I’m no good at identifying plant types.”
Daniel fought an eye roll. Something about her set his teeth on edge. He had to remain neutral. To assume a bias would color his entire perspective of the situation.
“I keep wondering what’s inside the time capsule,” Emma said, cutting through the tense silence. “I can’t remember what we collected.”
“I’m worried it’s all outdated technology we can’t use,” Margaux chimed in.
“Like a home movie?” Emma asked. “I don’t remember making any of those at camp, but I suppose someone in Shaunitoc has a VCR. Right, Daniel?”
He chuckled. “The library does for sure.”
“There has to be at least one CD. Remember those late-night commercials to order things like Totally Great 1998, today’s top music,” Emma said.
