In the Woods (35 page)

‘Stan didn't do it. He had no motive. You killed Phil.'

‘But it was Stan's gun—'

‘You snuck into Stan's campsite, took the gun, and returned it after you shot your husband. You knew where Stan was camping—'

‘No – I had no idea he was even there.' Angela's voice went up an octave. She rearranged herself on the chair.

‘Really? Because you knew he hunts here every weekend, every fall. And that he camps in the same spot. The two of you camped there for years.'

‘So? That doesn't mean anything.' Angela shook her head. ‘Besides,' she sputtered, ‘why would I kill Phil?'

‘How should I know? Was there an insurance policy?'

‘How dare you!' Angela blanched. ‘I'm not talking to you any more.'

‘Fine.' Harper leaned back against the wall, slumped down. ‘But you'll be talking to the agents. And then to the cops.'

‘Oh God, what have you told them?'

‘I told them nothing. Slader figured it out for himself and the others will too.'

Angela hesitated, eyed Harper. ‘Well, you might think you know what happened. But you don't. And you can't prove it.' Angela's voice was low, like a growl.

Harper didn't comment, saw no reason to.

‘And neither can Slader, being as he's dead.'

The crutch swung up in an arc and came down fast. Harper wasn't expecting it, wouldn't have thought Angela strong enough to assault her or foolish enough to try it with ATF agents in the next room. But there it was: the crutch speeding straight toward her skull. Harper's reflexes kicked in, and even before she'd comprehended what was happening, her arms went up, deflecting the blow, sending the crutch clattering onto the floor. And Angela along with it.

By the time they got back to campsite to pack up, it was late afternoon. Hank helped Harper finish folding the tent. They didn't talk much as they packed up the stove, the coffee pot. The folding cots and sleeping bags. Tarp. Chairs. Rifle. Hank's soil and water samples.

When everything was tied into bundles, they took a final walk down to the creek, sat on a fallen log. Hank put an arm around her. Harper leaned against his shoulder.

‘You okay?' he asked.

She shrugged. ‘You?'

‘I'm glad we're alive.'

Harper took a breath, felt her lungs fill. She was glad, too.

‘That was something.'

What was? Which thing?

‘You broke Angela's friggin' arm.'

Harper looked up at him. ‘It wasn't me – she fell on it.'

‘You sent her flying.' Hank's eyes twinkled. He gave her a squeeze.

‘I'm glad they finally let Stan go. But honestly, I pity Angela's cell mates. Having to listen to her for life? That's cruel and unusual punishment.'

Hank chuckled. They were quiet for a moment, watching the reflections of red and yellow leaves on the water. Harper watched the colors morph into bobbing blood and flesh, bits of exploded bodies. She thought of Ax and Moose. Annie. Captain Slader. Josh, the Bog Man. The other locals, so many of them dead. She clutched Hank's arm.

‘I keep thinking that I should have sensed something in those guys, Pete and Bob. I should have stopped them—'

‘What could you have sensed? You couldn't have stopped them.'

Obviously, Hank was just saying that. Trying to stop her from feeling responsible for what had happened.

‘They didn't seem even a tiny bit threatening. They were running away from the Bog Man, practically wetting their pants they were so scared. It's hard to believe they were here setting off bombs.'

And yet, police had found maps of the pipeline and anti-fracking literature in their car. Along with blasting caps and walkie-talkie packaging. According to Daniels, who'd spoken to Pete, the survivor, the two had set off the first two explosions trying to blow up the pipeline, and then had broken into the Hunt Club's arsenal, tying up the guards and stealing substances far more powerful than they'd realized or known how to handle. In the end, they'd blown up not the pipeline, but the compound and dozens of people, including one of them.

Water rippled over rocks and mud, along tree stumps. A squirrel darted across a branch. A spiderweb glistened in the sunlight. The woods were busy and alive, as if nothing had changed.

‘Ready?' Hank asked.

Very. Harper stood. Hank started up the path, but, hearing a rustle in the bushes across the creek, Harper glanced back. And froze.

It was at least seven feet tall, covered with fur that was dark as a shadow, camouflaged by the shade of the trees.

Maybe she was imagining it. She blinked, but it didn't disappear. It stood by the creek, watching her with shiny eyes. Neither of them moved.

Harper tried to call for Hank but couldn't open her mouth. Couldn't make a sound. Don't be an idiot, she told herself; it was just a costume. Maybe Josh's – but no. Josh had been killed in the blast, his costume burned and torn, the leg extensions destroyed. So, if not Josh, who was she looking at? Harper stared. Couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Couldn't trust her eyes.

‘Harper? Coming?' Hank called.

The creature startled, let out a sound that was neither a bark nor a howl. And as swiftly and silently as it had appeared, it dashed away.

Harper kept blinking, peering into the woods.

Hank came back down the hill. ‘What's up? We ought to—'

‘I know. It's nothing.' She still didn't move. ‘I'm coming.' The Bog Man. She'd seen it, hadn't she? Should she tell Hank? Would he believe her?

The woods across the creek didn't stir.

But the leaves rustled overhead. Trees surrounded her, obstructed her view. Closed her in.

Harper turned, hurrying, almost running up the path. ‘It will be late when we get home.' Her voice was faint.

‘What did you say?'

‘Chloe. She'll be asleep.'

‘Let's stop by Trent's and pick her up anyway. She probably won't wake up.'

No, she probably wouldn't. Harper thought of Chloe sleeping, her steady breathing. Her trust that her world was safe and loving.

‘That way she'll wake up in her own room, and we'll all be together in the morning.'

Harper picked up her backpack, the folded chairs and the tent. Hank got the rest. She kept her mind on the morning. On Chloe. They would say goodbye to Ranger Daniels, dodge the press, and take off, leaving the woods and what happened there behind. All that mattered was that they were together. And alive.