Emma launches herself at me so rapidly, I nearly fall over. If I thought she was clinging hard to me before I left for the trip, it’s about a million times harder now. But this time, I’m clinging to her just as hard.
I look over to my right, and the usually reserved Aidan is clinging to Noah. Any second, we’re probably going to have to trade kids. Although I’d really like to hug both at once. I didn’t think I’d see either of them ever again.
When we were an hour away from the house, I called my sister to bring the kids by. Now she’s standing in the middle of our living room, looking a little misty-eyed herself. She knew the first night that something was wrong but nobody would start searching until the second day, when we missed our reservation.
“Glad you made it back, sis,” Penny says.
I look up from my Emma-hug and hold out my arms. She comes in for a hug on top of Emma. And then Aiden wants to be part of it too. Eventually, all five of us are hugging together. It’s a little ridiculous, but it makes me happy. There were moments when I was so sure I would never get to hug any of these people again.
The police arrived only ten minutes after Noah stabbed Lindsay. Warner had a device to block our cell phone signals, but before Noah could figure out how to turn it off, the police were there. Lindsay had placed a tearful call earlier, saying that Warner was threatening them with a gun and to come right away. She had set the stage.
According to the police, Warner’s real name was Donald Regis. He was wanted in two other states in connection with multiple murders. If everything had gone according to plan for Lindsay, he would have served as the perfect scapegoat. Especially since he was dead and couldn’t defend himself.
The man who owned the cabin was a recluse named Henry Callahan. Lindsay and Warner had never met him before, but his cabin was in a
perfect location. That’s why they murdered him. Bad luck on his part.
Lindsay, on the other hand, survived. She was still breathing when the paramedics took her away. But she’ll be serving significant time for four murders. Well, at least four murders. It’s not clear how many people Lindsay killed throughout her life. I’m not sure we’ll ever know.
Jack and Michelle are dead. Just before we left, one of the officers reported they found Michelle’s body. She was stabbed to death like Jack— there was no wild animal involved. Lindsay and her boyfriend made all those claw marks themselves in advance to throw us off their scent. They used a magnet on Jack’s compass to lead us exactly where they wanted us to go.
Noah and I might have survived, but nothing will bring Jack and Michelle back. Every time I think about it, I feel a sting of sadness.
Why would Lindsay do it? Yes, I always knew she was a little odd. She was passionate about right and wrong, especially when it came to the opposite sex. Of course, when I looked back, all my memories of her took on a new light. When we were in college, we were sharing some beers outside a bar and some guy approached us and wouldn’t take no for an answer. Lindsay broke her beer bottle against the wall and shoved the jagged edge close to the guy’s neck. He took off quickly after that.
I always admired Lindsay for that one. I never would have had the nerve to threaten some creep with a broken beer bottle. But now when I look back at that night, I remember the gleam in her eyes and how much she seemed to enjoy seeing him squirm.
And then, of course, there was Ted. My ex-boyfriend who I caught cheating on me. How furious she had been on my behalf. I was furious too. I remember her ranting, He should pay for doing this to you. But I never imagined she would feel the need to exact justice.
In the end, I disappointed Lindsay just like everyone else did. Maybe I didn’t deserve to die, but she was right that I did something terrible. I’m not sure if I’ll ever forgive myself, even though Noah has forgiven me.
As Emma clings to my hips, I wonder how I’m going to tell the kids that Aunt Lindsay is going to jail for the rest of her life. And that she’s the one who tried to kill their mother. They both adored Lindsay—honestly, I think Aiden had a crush. Maybe I can make up some creative lies.
“I missed you guys so much,” I say.
Noah reaches out and squeezes my hand. I feel a rush of affection for the man that only a few days ago, I would have said I hated. I thought he and I were done. I believed when we returned home, we would be talking about how to split our house and our bank accounts.
“It’s good to be home,” he says. I squeeze his hand back.
Emma and I are making dinner for the family tonight. Noah suggested ordering in pizza, but after everything we’ve been through, I feel like a home-cooked meal is in order. Unfortunately, we don’t have much food in the house because we had been planning to be gone for a week, but there’s enough to throw together a casserole.
“Do you need any help here?” Noah asked before he went to play Aidan’s favorite video game with him. But he didn’t ask in the begrudging way he used to. He asked like he really wanted to help.
“No, we’re good,” I told him.
“Are you sure?” He slid his hands around my waist and pulled me close to him. “Because whatever you need…”
I smiled. “We’ll be fine. But maybe later this week, you and I can have a night out.”
He leaned in to kiss me. “You read my mind.”
So now Emma and I are throwing together a casserole. She’s scooping out the contents of a can of cream of mushroom soup into my large pan, and I’m stirring the egg noodles on the stove. The oven is preheating itself to four-hundred degrees.
“I love cream of mushroom soup,” Emma comments. She digs her spoon into the soup and takes a mouthful of it.
I cringe. Is it okay for a kid to eat raw soup? “Emma…” “But Mommy, it’s yum!”
No way that’s “yum.” But whatever. It won’t kill her.
“I’m so glad you’re home,” Emma says. “I told you something bad was going to happen on the trip.”
Once again, Emma’s premonition came true. Well, sort of. “You said a monster was going to eat us.”
She eats another spoonful of cold soup. “Well, I got worried because Daddy said he was going to take that hike.”
“Hike? You mean go fishing.”
“Nuh uh.” She licks soup off her fingers. “Hike. In the woods.” “Are… are you sure?”
She nods. “With Uncle Jack.”
I shake my head. “No, I was going to go on a hike with Uncle Jack.” “Daddy was too,” Emma insists. “I heard them talking about it on the
phone. They were going on a hike, just the two of them.”
Emma is looking up at me with her wide brown eyes. She has a great memory, and if she says she heard Noah and Jack planning a solo hike together, I’m sure that’s exactly what happened. And there’s nothing wrong with that. After all, that’s why we were going out to that remote inn. So we could hike and fish and whatever.
So why does this revelation make me feel uneasy?
I wanted to do whatever it took to get you back.
I never asked Noah why he had that Swiss Army knife in his pocket. Or why he stole it back from the drawer. It seemed so unimportant after the fact. And maybe I didn’t want to hear the answer.
It occurs to me that our luggage is still in the car. The police seized everything that belonged to Jack, Michelle, Lindsay, and Warner. But they let us keep our own stuff. When we got home, we were too excited to see the kids to think about our bags. Everything is still sitting there.
The timer goes off to signify that the egg noodles are cooked. I shut off the heat on the stove and drain the noodles into a colander. A puff of steam rises from the noodles.
“Hey, Emma,” I say. “I’m going to run out to the garage to get our bags. Can you keep an eye on things in the kitchen?”
Emma nods solemnly. “Yes.” “And…?”
“I won’t touch the stove.”
I kiss her forehead. “Good girl.”
We have an attached garage, big enough for two cars. I grab my car keys and slip through the door to the garage, which is pitch black. I flick on the light, but it’s still only a dim glow. My minivan is sitting next to Noah’s Prius. I hit the button on my key fob and my car lights up.
Noah’s bag is the smaller green one. I feel around the edges, searching for the zipper. I’m not entirely sure why I’m doing this or what I’m hoping to find. I suppose I just want reassurance. I want to know for sure that the private hike Noah and Jack were planning together was nothing more than that.
I unzip the length of the luggage and throw it open. Those shirts and pants are folded haphazardly inside with sock balls scattered throughout. There’s nothing scary or unusual in this luggage. It looks like a typical guy’s messy luggage.
I let out a breath of relief.
Just to be sure, I start feeling around the clothing. His shirts feel soft under my fingers. I don’t know what I’m looking for. A gun? Another knife? In any case, I don’t find anything. Not that I’m surprised.
Anyway, I should probably bring our luggage inside. Knowing my husband, if I don’t do it, he’ll probably let them sit there in the trunk for the next several weeks. So I grab his luggage and pull it out of the trunk. I also grab his sweatshirt, which he had been wearing out in the woods and abandoned in the trunk. That one definitely needs to be washed, since I didn’t wash it out in the sink.
Except when I drop the sweatshirt down on his luggage, it pings.
I pick up the gray sweatshirt, curious what would have made that noise. I unzip one of the pockets on the side of the sweatshirt. Then I shake it out.
To my surprise, a little silver brick falls out.
I recognize it instantly. It’s one of the really strong refrigerator magnets Noah bought when Emma and Aiden’s drawings kept falling off the fridge. But why did he have a magnet in his sweatshirt? What had he been planning to do with it?
I wanted to do whatever it took to get you back.
This is silly to be suspicious. Warner probably put it there. They were planning to frame him, after all. Or did they?
I wanted to do whatever it took to get you back. Anything.
“Claire?” Noah’s voice echoes from just outside the garage. I shove the magnet quickly back inside his shirt. “You in the garage?”
“Yes, just getting our luggage out of the car!” I call back.
I drop the sweatshirt back down on his bag just as he opens the door to the garage and finds me standing by his luggage. He raises his eyebrows. “You don’t have to worry about that, Claire. You’re cooking dinner… The least I can do is lug our bags upstairs.”
Last week, this would have been an argument in which I accused him of procrastinating every chore until I couldn’t stand it and had to do it myself. But things are different now. “I don’t mind,” I say.
“I promise, I’m on top of it.” He steps into the garage and joins me in front of the trunk. He lifts his dirty sweatshirt off the luggage and drapes it over his arm. “You shouldn’t have to deal with my dirty clothes. I can wash this myself.”
“Oh,” I murmur. “Well, I usually do the laundry…”
He grabs my wrist to pull me close to him. “It’s the least I can do. I just want you to know how much I appreciate you.” He kisses me softly on the lips. “I’m not going to screw it up again.”
I try to relax as Noah kisses me again, but it’s hard not to wonder what exactly he had been planning for this trip. If Lindsay hadn’t intervened, did Noah intend to bring Jack out to the woods and get him disoriented? Would Jack have suffered a stab wound while hiking? Is it possible my husband would do something like that?
I’d like to think he wouldn’t. I’d like to think there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this. And anyway, he didn’t kill Jack— Warner did. Why ask a question that will threaten our newfound happiness together?
Sometimes it’s better not to know.
LINDSAY
Well, it didn’t quite work out as I planned.
The DA is saying I’m looking at multiple consecutive life sentences, but my lawyer says there’s a chance he’ll get me off on an insanity defense. If that happens, I’ll serve a few years in a nice quiet psychiatric hospital, then I’ll be right back home. He said nobody will throw a pretty woman in jail for life. People are very superficial.
I think it’s unlikely I’ll get off on insanity though. Now that I’ve been caught, people are putting two and two together and figuring out what I’ve done in the past. All those other murders, although every single one of them was deserved. I thought I was so careful, but it turns out I left evidence behind. They will never let me go. I’ll spend the rest of my life in this cold cell and uncomfortable bed.
I have a lot of time to think in here.
What I keep thinking about are those last few moments in the cabin. I was so close. If only I hadn’t turned my back on Noah. I had forgotten he had that Swiss Army knife, and I certainly didn’t think he had it in him to use it. He only managed to do it because he thought I was going to shoot Claire. Nothing else could have motivated him. Despite what she did to him, he still loved her so much.
It’s ironic because I was the one who gave him that knife. I did it while we were at the rest stop while Claire was in the bathroom. I smiled helplessly at him and said I was scared to hold it because I might accidentally hurt myself. He took it without question. Men are so easy.
It was Warner’s idea to put the magnet in Noah’s sweatshirt, in that zippered pocket where he was unlikely to look. I took the magnet right off their refrigerator when I was visiting. All along, Noah was the one throwing off Jack’s compass without even realizing it. Jack suspected it, and that’s why he believed his best friend was trying to keep them lost in the woods for his own nefarious purposes.
That was back when Warner planned to pin it all on Noah. Of course, the magnet is still in there. Nestled inside the pocket of his dirty sweatshirt.
I wonder if Claire will find the magnet when she’s doing the laundry. After all, she’s the one who always washes the clothes—it’s something she complains about constantly. She’ll see it and she’ll wonder. Wonder if there’s more to Noah’s story than he’s letting on.
I know Claire so well—it will eat at her. They think they fixed their marriage, but that magnet will destroy them.
And they will finally get what they deserve.
