The Escape. Part 21

"Yeah," she said, her voice tentative. "That sounds good."

Fletcher pulled into a parking spot and Avery kicked open the door, squinting up at the sky. The blue had turned to a flat gray, wisps of fog starting to blot out the sun.

"Looks like it might rain later," she said. "We should probably be pretty quick out here."

Fletcher didn't answer.

There was only one car in the parking lot-a busted-up VW van covered in b.u.mper stickers and in dire need of a wash.

"There was a car in the lot when you and Adam came too, right?"

Fletcher nodded, his eyes flicking over the bus. "Yeah, but it was a different car."

"What kind was it?"

He shouldered a backpack from his trunk. She wasn't sure what he had in it, but it looked heavy. "I don't think I remember."

Avery stepped close enough to him that she could smell the clean scent of detergent on his navy-blue Henley. "Think."

He grimaced with annoyance, but Fletcher obliged, closing his eyes and breathing deeply. "I think it was red. No, maroon. A sedan. Not a van."

Avery pulled a notebook from her own backpack and scrawled "maroon" and "sedan."

"Nice notepad, detective."

It was one of her father's that she had pilfered from his office. She smiled and shrugged. "My dad's the chief, but I can't have a 'get out of jail free' card. I figured a free notebook was an acceptable door prize. Anything else you remember about the car?"

Fletcher huffed and Avery wasn't sure if it was from the weight of his pack or because he was tired of her questions.

"No." He shook his head. "Nothing."

"Okay." She slid the notebook into the pocket of her orange search-and-rescue jacket. "You said Adam threw out some trash before you hit the trail."

"I did?"

"Uh-huh. He said that people were jerks, picked up some trash, and then threw it away. Don't you remember telling me that?"

"Sure. Yeah. Of course I do."

Avery turned toward the mouth of the trail. She found Fletcher's hand and squeezed it before letting it go. "Are you sure about this?"

"Yeah, why not?"

"Well, if at any time being here gets to be too much for you, promise me you'll let me know. If you feel uncomfortable, we'll turn around."

Fletcher's nostrils flared. "I said I'm fine, okay? G.o.d! It's not like I'm going to snap or anything!"

Avery stared, openmouthed. She couldn't remember ever hearing Fletch raise his voice, let alone yell at her. Now he was huffing, little bits of spittle forming at the corners of his mouth.

"Okay." She instinctively took a step back, wanting to put a little distance between them. "I didn't mean anything by it. I just wanted to let you know that it's cool-"

"I know," Fletcher said, his voice lowered but still agitated. "I know it's cool. Can we just get on with it?"

"Sure." Avery glanced up over his shoulder and Fletcher spun around.

"Is someone behind me?"

She felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. "No."

Avery knew that returning to the woods would be traumatic, but why was Fletcher behaving so erratically? He had a sheen of sweat on his forehead even though they hadn't yet taken a single step on the trail.

Give him a break, she said, calming herself. This has to be hard for him. Think about... She tried to shut down her mind, but the image was already there. Her father, holding her hand over the center console, the vibration from the engine quaking up her arm.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Avery?"

"Dad, watch the road."

He sighed, his attention focused on his driving. "I know Dr. Rickson thinks this is a good idea, but I'm not so sure."

"You drive this road every day."

She saw the muscle jump against his jaw.

"I don't like it," he said, his voice gravelly.

"You can't keep avoiding it every time I'm in the car."

"I don't mind, Avy."

"I do mind."

Her stomach quivered. It wasn't b.u.t.terflies; b.u.t.terflies were too nice for what she was feeling. It was more like bat wings flapping or spider feet stomping.

Her father cracked a window and the heady scent of pine filled the car. It was fresh and spicy, a scent that Avery and her mother used to love. They would tromp through the forest and her mother would throw back her head, open her arms and yell, "Can you smell that, Avs? That's the smell of heaven!"

Heaven. The word stuck in her throat.

"We're almost to the bend," her dad said, slowing the GMC to a crawl, then a stop. When he pulled the keys from the ignition, the silence was overwhelming. She was relieved when the tick-tick-tick of the cooling engine started.

"Do you want to go closer or stay here?" her father asked gently.

Avery's eyes were already fixed. She slid out of the car without answering. With each step she took, she felt like the vise on her heart was squeezing tighter. The scar on the tree was unmistakable. A huge branch had ripped from the trunk, exposing the yellow-white flesh of the tree beneath its bark.

Avery sucked in a shaky breath. Taking another step closer caused physical pain.

Her mother's car had slid into a gully on the side of the road. Tire marks snaked out behind it. A few broken chunks of metal and a shower of broken gla.s.s still dotted pine needles and brush. It had been nearly two months; Avery wondered if they would ever get cleaned up, or if the detritus would just become part of the landscape.

The snap of saplings brought Avery back to the trail in the forest. Fletcher was a good ten feet in front of her, whacking at low tree limbs and brush with a stick. She caught up with him, branches snapping beneath her feet, and Fletcher turned, stick held out in front of him like a weapon. He was breathing hard again-small, shallow breaths.

Avery jumped back. "Whoa!"

Fletcher tapped the tip of the stick on the ground. "Sorry. You surprised me."

"Next time I'll wear a bell," she said under her breath.

They walked along in silence again. Every few feet he'd pause, eyes darting from side to side. Avery thought he was just trying to remember the way he and Adam had come, but as they went deeper into the forest, she wasn't so sure.

She licked her lips. "So, anything coming to you?"

"You miss your mom?" He didn't stop or look at her, just kept walking.

Avery was taken aback. "Yeah, of course I do."

"My mom's weird."

Avery nodded, walking a foot behind Fletcher. "She seems okay."

"She thinks I did it."

Avery's stomach plummeted, her chest tight. "She thinks you..."

"Killed Adam." He stopped, then turned, a loose smile on his lips. "Everyone thinks I did it."

"Who do you mean by everyone?" Sweat beaded her upper lip. "That's not what I think."

He looked her up and down, that weird smile still playing at the corners of his lips. Avery crossed her arms and straightened with bravado she didn't feel. She felt vulnerable. Exposed.

"I don't think you killed Adam, Fletch. I know you too well. I know you would never do something like that."

He narrowed his eyes. The air between them crackled with electricity.

"Let's keep walking."

Fletcher didn't know why Avery kept falling behind him. The incline wasn't that steep and they weren't walking that fast.

She is scared. She is scared of me. The thought burned in his gut. Why should she be afraid of him?

Killer...killer...killer, the whispers chanted.

He tried to brush them away but they were persistent: Killer...killer...kill her.

"Shut up!"

Avery looked at him, startled. "I didn't say anything."

Embarra.s.sment burned up Fletcher's spine, flus.h.i.+ng the back of his neck. "Sorry, Avery. I didn't mean...I didn't mean anything."

They were nearing the clearing by the gully.

"My G.o.d, Fletch. Dude, you've got to see this..."

"Did you hear that?" Fletcher asked suddenly.

Avery looked around, her forehead wrinkled in confusion. "Hear what?"

The adrenaline was coming fast and hard now, pumping through his veins. "Adam. It sounded like Adam."

Avery took a step back, her eyes saucers as she shook her head from side to side. "No, Fletch. I didn't hear anything. Maybe we should head back. I think this may have been a bad idea."

Why was she doing that? Didn't she want to find Adam?

What happened to Adam?

He watched his own arm dart out like a venomous snake and grab Avery's wrist. "Come on. Come on, let's go."

She followed, but after a few steps, she shook him off. "I think this was a bad idea, Fletch. I'm going to go back."

"No! You can't!" Fletcher stared into Avery's eyes. "We can't."

"Fletch-"

"You found me once, Avery. Please don't let me get lost again."

Avery nodded slowly. "Okay."

Twenty-eight.

Fletch was acting weird.

Really weird.

His eyes were wild, and he jumped at every sound: a squirrel in the brush, his own foot snapping a twig. He was sweating profusely, though his breathing was more subdued. Still, something was wrong.

Fletcher stopped abruptly.

"What happened, Fletch? What happened out here?"