“Smells delicious.”
“Drink up.”
Melissa and James were sitting side by side, sipping their tea while sifting through the costume jewelry spread out across the coffee table in front of them. Val squeezed in beside Melissa, mug in one hand, Brianne’s shoe in the other, as Jennifer perched on the end of the nearby chair. Val leaned toward Melissa, pretending to be tucking some stray hairs behind Melissa’s ear. “We found Henry Voight’s uniform. Brianne was definitely
here,” she whispered. Straightening up, she said, “Find anything interesting?” She took a sip of her tea, and then another, feeling it warm against her throat. Despite the outside heat, the hot liquid felt surprisingly good, even though it tasted slightly bitter. She hadn’t realized how parched she was.
“Almost everything is interesting.” Melissa separated a few beaded strands from the rest, lifting one long necklace over Val’s head and then pretending to admire it. “What do you want to do?” she muttered underneath her breath.
“We should probably get out of here.”
“Agreed.” Melissa removed the necklace and turned back to Nikki. “There’s really some very good stuff here. Eisenberg, Coro, Weiss, Trifari.”
“And there’s quite a rare signed Coro Duette, dated 1950,” James added, his eyes as wide as the jeweled centers of the vintage owl clip-on earrings he was holding. “Who’d have thought?”
Val tried to catch his eye, but failed.
“So, how much will you give me for the lot?” Nikki shifted restlessly from one foot to the other.
Melissa hesitated. “How does a thousand dollars sound?”
“A thousand dollars! Are you serious? You’ll give me a thousand dollars for this stuff?”
“Shouldn’t we speak to your grandmother first?” James asked.
“She won’t care.”
“Still, if she’s here …”
“She isn’t.”
“I thought you said she was sleeping,” James persisted.
Shit, Val thought, her eyes pleading with James to shut up. They had to get out of here. They had to alert the park rangers, the state troopers, the FBI.
“She is. Sort of.” An indifferent shrug. “Okay. She’s not exactly sleeping. The truth is … she died. A few months ago.”
That does it, Val thought, lowering her tea to the coffee table and looking toward the still open front door. We have to get out of here
now
.
“I didn’t tell you before because I didn’t know who you were and I didn’t want you to think I was living here all by myself. Anyway,” Nikki continued, “she left me the cottage and everything in it. So there’s no problem about the jewelry. Can you give me the money now?”
Melissa looked toward Val, her gaze strangely unfocused. “Well, I only have a few dollars on me at the moment.”
Nikki’s eyes flashed anger. “So … what? You were just bullshitting me? This is, like, a joke to you?”
“No, of course not. It’s just that I’d have to get to a cash machine.”
“Where’s your car?”
“At the campground,” Val interjected quickly. Brianne had definitely been here, she was sure of that. Just as she was certain this girl knew where she was now. But Nikki was also clearly crazy and Val doubted there was anything to be gained by sticking around. They’d found the real Henry’s uniform. The man who’d stolen it might still be lurking. They had to contact the authorities. “Look, we’ll go to the car, get the money, and come right back. How’s that?” She pushed herself to her feet, felt Melissa struggle to get up beside her. “Are you all right?”
“Now
I’m
the one who’s dizzy,” Melissa said.
“How long do you think you’ll be?” Nikki asked.
“Shouldn’t be too long,” Val answered, watching James stagger when he tried to stand, his empty mug falling to the floor and bouncing toward the fireplace. Val grabbed his arm before he could fall over.
“What’s happening?” Jennifer asked.
“Why don’t you ask him?” Nikki said, looking toward the open door.
A young man stood in the doorway, a smile on his lips, a picture of Keith Richards on his chest, and a bloodstained machete in his hands.
Val gasped, a sound immediately echoed by Jennifer and Melissa.
“Oh, God,” moaned James, fighting to stay upright.
“I don’t think you’re going anywhere.” The young man kicked the door shut behind him with his booted foot, waving the machete in front of him as he walked into the center of the room. “Enjoy your tea, everyone?”
“It’s my special blend.” Nikki pulled the gun out of her pocket.
“Oh, God,” James said again.
“No need to be so formal. You can just call me Henry.” The young man laughed. “Hello, Jennifer. Nice to see you again. And you must be Brianne’s mother,” he said to Val. “I can definitely see a resemblance.”
“Where’s my daughter? What have you done with her?”
“Nothing.” Henry’s smile widened. “Yet.”
“They have money,” Nikki told him. “That bitch just offered me a thousand dollars for this shit.” She looked from Melissa to the jewelry spread across the coffee table. “They were just going to go to a cash machine.”
“You really are stupid, you know that?” Henry’s voice resonated disdain. “The only place they’re going is straight to the cops.”
Nikki’s cheeks flushed pink with embarrassment. “Don’t call me stupid.”
“You gotta learn to read between the lines, sweetheart. They
know everything. Don’t you?” he said to Val. “Of course you do,” he said, answering his own question. “They’ve already talked to the park rangers. They know I’m not the real Henry Voight. In fact, I think they probably have a pretty good idea at this point just who I really am.” He pointed the machete at Val’s throat. “If not, I’d say this here’s a pretty good clue.”
“You killed those people in the Berkshires,” James whispered.
“Bingo.”
“And the real Henry Voight?” Jennifer asked.
“Don’t forget about David Gowan,” Nikki said with obvious pride.
Val fought back the fresh tears she felt forming behind her eyes. “What have you done with my daughter?” she asked again, her focus starting to blur.
“Like I said, nothing yet. I’m saving her.” The young man winked. “For later.”
“Don’t count on it,” Nikki muttered, not quite under her breath.
He spun toward her. “What are you saying? That I can’t count on you anymore? Is that what you’re saying?”
“No, of course not.”
His gaze shifted to Jennifer. “Should have listened to me when I told you to stay put,” he admonished. “Instead, you come snooping around, filling poor Nikki’s head with nonsense …”
“It’s not nonsense,” Melissa said, her words bumping up against one another in their rush to escape her mouth. “Vintage costume jewelry can be very valuable. It’s my business. I know. And I can get you the money.”
“Save it, Mrs. Magoo. Nikki here might be too stupid to see through you, but I’m not.”
“I’m not stupid,” Nikki said.
“No, you’re a regular Einstein. Or should I say ‘Eisenberg’?” He laughed.
So he’d been listening outside the door the whole time, Val realized, patiently waiting for them to finish their tea. What was in it anyway? How much of that damn stuff had she drunk? Where were they hiding Brianne?
“I guess we should get this show on the road,” he said.
“You don’t have to do this,” James said, his words barely audible.
“Don’t have to,” the young man agreed. “But oh, I really, really want to. Ready, babe?”
A car honked from somewhere down the road.
“Wait.” Nikki looked toward the window, paling noticeably.
“What now?”
“Someone’s coming.”
Please, God, let it be the park rangers, Val thought, straining for the sound of tires on gravel, praying for the cavalry to come riding to their rescue.
“You’re imagining things,” the young man said, vaulting toward the window and peering through the trees.
Nikki looked confused, her eyes darting back and forth without focusing on anything in particular.
“There’s no one there,” he told her, impatiently.
“Are you sure? I remember …”
“You remember what?”
“There was something … something on the computer. Something about … shit, I don’t know … Quakers? Is that possible?”
“Quakers? What the hell are you talking about?”
“There was something. Wait. It was a name. Quaker? Was
that it? No, no.
Mc
Quaker. Yes, that’s it. Fran and Wayne McQuaker dot-com.”
“Fran and Wayne … what the hell are you talking about?”
“Fran and Wayne McQuaker. I remember now. They’re coming to visit. Saturday.”
“Someone’s coming here
today
? And you didn’t think to tell me about it before?”
“I was stoned. I just remembered when I heard the car honking.”
“You just remembered,” he repeated, shaking his head. “Shit. Your grandparents were right about you. You’re just a stupid little girl.”
The familiar words jolted Val out of her growing lethargy, clearing her head as if she’d been slapped in the face. “Are you going to let him talk to you that way?” she snapped, knowing time was running out, that she had to do something before it was too late. Maybe if she could pit one against the other …
“Somebody ask for your opinion? For fuck’s sake, just shoot the bitch,” the young man ordered. Then, when Nikki didn’t react fast enough, “Well, what are you waiting for, dummy? Christmas?”
Nikki steadied the gun in her hand and slowly raised it.
“You’re not stupid, Nikki. So be smart,” Val urged, holding her breath as she watched Nikki turn around slowly, pointing the gun at the young man’s chest.
Pull the trigger
, she prayed silently.
“Come on, babe,” the man said, his voice suddenly soft and conciliatory. “You know I don’t mean any of that shit. You know I love you.”
“What about that bitch in the trunk? You love her, too?”
“She means nothing. You know that. You know you’re the only girl for me.”
“So we’re not gonna take her with us?”
“We’ll do whatever you want with her.”
“He’s lying,” Val said, understanding they were talking about Brianne.
“Shut up,” Nikki said, swiveling toward her, so that the gun was now pointing directly at Val’s head.
Was that all it took to get women to surrender their power—a few sweet words, even when they knew them to be false? And was she really so surprised?
Hey, you
, was all Evan had to say, and she’d been ready to forgive him anything.
Val understood in that second that Nikki would blindly follow her man, no matter what, that there was no point in trying to talk sense into her. She wouldn’t listen to reason any more than Val had listened when people had tried to talk to her about Evan. She was just wasting whatever time and breath she had left.
Her eyes shot to Jennifer, who nodded, as if she’d heard Val’s thoughts. There would be no handsome princes riding to their rescue, they both understood. They were on their own.
They moved quickly and in unison, Jennifer hurling what remained of her tea into Nikki’s face as Val ferociously swung Brianne’s shoe at the girl’s head. The shoe caught Nikki smack between the eyes and she pitched forward, Jennifer knocking the gun from her hands as she fell, sending it skating across the floor toward Val’s feet.
“You dumb cunts!” the young man yelled, rushing at them, his last words before a succession of bullets ripped through his chest, tearing apart Keith Richards’s sneering face and sending the young man crashing back against the window, the machete in his raised arm arching gracefully back over his head to slice through the glass, sending it shattering in all directions. Jagged shards fell around his head, like icicles dropping from a rooftop.
Val stared down at the gun in her hands, her index finger pressed firmly against its trigger.
“Bravo! Bravo, Val!” James was shouting from somewhere beside her, clapping his hands as Melissa sleepily tossed a handful of the beaded necklaces she’d been clutching into the air, like so much celebratory confetti.
“Are you all right?” Val asked Jennifer, now sitting firmly on top of Nikki, who was moaning but not moving.
“Never better,” Jennifer said.
Which was when they heard a car pulling up outside, followed by a door slamming shut, and then another.
A woman’s chirpy voice cut through the ensuing silence. “Hello, Ellen? Stuart? Yoo-hoo! We’re here. We finally made it!”
Val looked toward the door as an elderly couple walked cheerily up the front steps, the woman carrying a large potted plant, the man cradling a bottle of champagne.
“Ellen! Stuart! Come out, come out, wherever you are!” They stopped, staring wide-eyed at the scene in front of them.
Val stared back. They were all still staring at one another when they heard the sound of police sirens approaching in the distance.
T
HEY LEFT FOR HOME first thing the next morning.
“You’re sure you’re okay to drive?” Melissa asked. “I’m fine.” Val smiled toward the three occupants of the backseat, then stretched her arm across the front console to where her daughter sat staring out the side window, a steady stream of tears cascading down her pale cheeks. She’d been crying from almost the minute they’d discovered her, more or less unconscious, in the trunk of Matthew Stabler’s car. “How about you, sweetheart? How are you doing?” Even though her daughter had emerged miraculously unharmed and had thankfully witnessed none of the carnage, the news of Tyler’s fate and the knowledge of what would have likely happened to her had her mother not found her had been traumatic enough. She’d slept fitfully, her backside curled into her mother’s stomach in
bed, holding tight to her mother’s hand as it draped across her hip. The manager of the lodge had been eager to cooperate with the state police when informed of Val and her friends’ heroics in apprehending the monsters who’d slaughtered so many, and had happily provided them with their original suite for the night.
Brianne felt a fresh gathering of tears behind her eyes. She didn’t deserve her mother’s concern, she was thinking. If she’d listened to her mother in the first place, none of this would have happened. Tyler would still be alive.
“It’s not your fault,” Val told her, as if reading her mind. “You didn’t kill Tyler.”