The Cabin (12 page)

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Authors: Natasha Preston

BOOK: The Cabin
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My head spun faster than if I'd been on a carnival ride. “OK.”
Think. Take control.
“OK,” I repeated. “What you did was wrong. So,
so
wrong, but it doesn't change what happened, and telling people will only make you seem untrustworthy. And if the police find out you spiked Gigi's drink, they're going to think you did that to us too. If you're capable of drugging a friend to have sex with them, what else are you capable of?”

“That's not how it was!”

“I know that. I know you, Megan.”
I think.
“But you can't give the police a reason to doubt you.”

“What do we do? Kenz, this secret has been killing me. I want it off my chest. It feels good to tell you, but I don't want to go to prison for something I haven't done.”

I pressed my lips together as a pang of guilt hit my stomach.

“Talk to me about it whenever you want. Whatever you need to say or vent, just do it to me, OK? We're not going to the police. You made a stupid, stupid mistake, but you didn't mean to hurt anyone.”

Her eyes filled with tears and she slowly shook her head. “I don't know what to say.”

“Don't say anything. Dry your eyes and plaster on a smile. You need to be normal when you see me out. Your parents can't see you like this.”

“You're leaving?” she asked.

I need to leave or my head is going to explode.

“I have to, but don't worry. Everything's going to be fine.”

I hope.

Chapter Twelve

I sat cross-legged on my bed in a daze. Two of my friends had hidden big, fat secrets from me. Strike that—technically four had. I knew that if I told anyone else what I knew, I could land Kyle and Megan both in trouble. After all, the secrets they'd kept could be seen as motives.

An awful thought kept popping into my head over and over until I was ready to scream: What if it
was
one of them? Clearly I didn't know my friends as well as I thought, but there was a massive difference between not disclosing every aspect of your life and murder.

This all felt like some horrible roller-coaster ride, and I wanted to get off.

My best friend had been murdered and three other friends could be responsible for it. How could I keep it to myself if I found out one was responsible? And how could I turn one of them in? It was too hard to choose between the people I loved, even if they had committed a heinous crime. I had to choose, and it was so hard because two people had lost their lives, and they deserved justice.

I picked up my phone and called Courtney's cousin, Felicity. We hadn't spoken since a brief encounter at the funeral, and I was hoping she could make things clearer for me. She had grown up with Courtney. Her mum was never around, so she'd practically lived with Court and Courtney's parents until she'd moved away to university.

“Kenz,” she said, picking up on the first ring.

“Hey, how are you?” I closed my eyes.
Stupid, stupid question, Mackenzie.

“I'm doing all right. You?”

“Yeah, OK, I guess. Are you busy tomorrow, Felicity?”

“Not really. I'm packing to go back to uni, but apart from that, sod all.”

She was going back so soon? How was everyone starting to move on again so soon?

“You want to meet up for lunch?” she asked.

“That sounds good,” I replied.

“Wanna meet at the Lion at eleven thirty?”

“OK. I'll see you then.”

“Bye.” She hung up but I stayed still, the phone still up to my ear. I hadn't thought she would leave so soon. Courtney had practically been a sister to her. Was the same thing happening to Felicity as was happening to Blake? Was Courtney's mum giving her the cold shoulder, wishing it had been Felicity instead?

My phone buzzed. A number I didn't recognize flashed on the screen with a text message.
Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.

“What?” I whispered. Who was that? I held the phone in my trembling hand.

Unsure if I should try to call or reply, I stared at the message, trying to work out what was meant by it—and, more importantly, who could've sent it.

Who is this?
I typed my reply and sent it before I could change my mind.

I stared at the screen and waited for the longest time. Seconds turned into minutes, and there was no reply.

What's going on? Is someone trying to mess with me?
My mouth fell open, and I dropped the phone.
It's from the killer.
How had they gotten my number? Did I know them?

“Mackenzie?” Mum shouted up the stairs. I jumped at the sound of her voice and grabbed my phone. “Kyle's here. I'm sending him up.”

In a panic, I stuffed my phone under my pillow and took a breath. “Thanks,” I called.

Kyle had barely left me alone since he'd told me about him and Courtney. I found it unnerving. He knew I wasn't going to tell people, so he shouldn't have been obsessed with seeing me all the time to make sure I wasn't blabbing his secret.

“Hey,” he said, closing my bedroom door behind him.

His once-calm and inviting smile now made me feel like I should have something hard and heavy at the ready to defend myself, just in case. “What's up?” I asked and cleared my croaky throat.

Forget about the text message and focus on him.
I already knew I wasn't going to tell him about the text. Before I opened up, I wanted someone else to go first. I had no idea if I was the only one who'd received one or if we all had. Kyle was cut up over his relationship—or lack of—with Courtney. That didn't make him a killer, but crimes of passion were common.

Could seeing Courtney and Josh so loved up at the cabin have made him snap?

I wanted to be honest with my friends, but the more I learned, the harder it was to trust them. My heart stuttered with fear and anxiety.

He shrugged and flopped down on my bed, lying on his back with his arms above his head. I smiled a genuine smile—it was so normal of him to slob out all over my room.

“Nothing much. I can't stand being at home.”

“Parents driving you insane?” I asked. Mine were doing my head in, but after what'd happened, I was lucky they hadn't locked me in the house or hired a security guard, which Mum had actually suggested.

“Yep. What are you up to?”

Trying to figure out who's sending me creepy texts. Wondering if you're getting them too.
“Nothing. You?”

He bared his teeth in a grin. “Just come to see one of my oldest friends.”

“I'm not old.”

“That's right.” His dark eyes lit up. “You're the baby of the group.”

I was turning nineteen in five months. Courtney should have turned nineteen two weeks before me, but she would never get to do that. She would be eighteen forever—like Tilly and Gigi.

Kyle and I drifted into an awkward silence. We met when we were kids, and kids just got on, no matter if they knew a person or not. I wanted to ask him if he really meant the nasty things he'd said about Courtney, and I think he wanted to talk about it too.

I said, “Is everything really OK? I know you're angry at how Courtney treated you. If you want to talk about it, we can.”

You want him to slip up.

No. That wasn't it. I believed him. Kyle was sweet. He was my human teddy bear. He wouldn't hurt a fly.

“You'll judge me, Kenzie. You did yesterday and I can't stand it. You don't understand.”

“Then make me understand. Come on, Kyle. There's nothing we can't talk about.”

Yes, there is.
I wouldn't talk about my secret, the blackmail from Josh, or the text.

“Have you ever been in love?” he questioned, knowing the bloody answer.

I'd thought I was in love with my ex, Danny, but he had turned out to be a heartless dick when he'd cheated on me. There hadn't been anyone else since we'd broken up two years ago. Never again would I put myself back in the position I had been in with him.

“No,” I replied, feeling a twist in my stomach.

Blake…

No, I absolutely did not have the time or mental capacity to consider my feelings for Blake right then. Besides, I barely knew him. We had incredible chemistry, but you couldn't love someone you didn't know. Insta-love wasn't possible. Right?

“Then I don't know if you
can
understand it yet. Courtney was…everything. She was all I thought about. My whole life had become about making her happy. I thought she felt the same. We were supposed to be together. And then she turned around and kicked me to the curb. You can't imagine how much that hurt. I had all of my happiness ripped away from me, so, yes, I'm pissed at her. I hate her, and I hate that I can't stop loving her. I wish I could flip a switch and not care about her anymore, but I can't, so I'll be angry until I'm over it. I'm more angry at myself that now I'll never be able to set things straight with her.”

Maybe I didn't understand how he felt, but I still didn't know if I could hate someone who I loved after they'd died—even if they had hurt me. Did Kyle only want Courtney to be happy if she was with him? If so, that wasn't my definition of love.

“I'm sorry, Kyle,” I said, completely out of anything helpful to say. “I'm sorry you're hurt and things didn't work out the way you wanted.” Closing my eyes, I felt every ounce of energy being siphoned. I was completely over everything. “God, I'm so tired.”

He frowned. “Sorry. I should have called before I came and unloaded that on you. I wanted to make sure we're OK. I don't want what happened with Courtney to mess up our friendship.”

“It's OK, and it won't come between us. I should get some sleep now.” I hated that he doubted our friendship. Was he worried that I thought he could have done it? I knew he hadn't. But I wasn't so sure about the possible burner phone used to send those weird text messages. Why didn't I feel comfortable enough to ask him?

He kissed my forehead as he stood up. “Bye, Kenzie. Speak to you tomorrow.”

I smiled halfheartedly and flopped down on my bed, exhausted. My body felt like it was made of rock. I couldn't have moved even if I'd wanted to. “Bye, Kyle,” I replied, yawning.

Once I hung up, I dialed Aaron's number, but it went through to voice mail.
Damn it.
I flicked down my contacts and called the landline at his parents'.

“Hello?” his mum said.

“Hi, it's Mackenzie. Is Aaron in?”

“He's sleeping. I'll ask him to get back to you in the morning.”

“OK, thanks.”

She hung up first, and I glared at my phone. That sounded a lot more like Aaron was avoiding speaking to me.

There was no way I would get a good night's sleep—not after that text—but at least I would be alone for a while and not have to think.

• • •

Saturday, August 22

“What time will you be home?” Mum asked, looking at the clock on the kitchen wall. All morning she'd been my shadow. Time had ticked by so slowly, I'd wanted to pull my hair out, so I was beyond grateful when I had to leave to meet Felicity.

“We're only having lunch. I doubt I'll be longer than a couple hours.” I figured that gave me until two before I had to be back or she'd be calling.

“OK,” she replied, nodding to herself. Mum found it hard to let me go anywhere, but she recognized that she couldn't keep me locked up, and there was nothing to suggest I was in any danger. She still thought someone had somehow made a copy of the key or picked the lock at the cabin. I prayed she was right.

“You can always call or text, you know,” I offered.

“I know, love. I just worry about you. It makes me feel uncomfortable having you out there when the murderer hasn't been caught.”

It kind of made me nervous too. Someone was sending me cryptic texts, and I was a person of interest in a double murder investigation. All of that didn't exactly make me feel safe.

Our little village was safe—or it used to be. Everyone knew and looked out for everyone else. I'd gone from having full freedom to having to disclose my every movement. “I'll be fine, Mum, and I promise to let you know where I am.” With a bit of luck, I sounded more confident than I felt.

She pushed my hair behind my shoulder and smiled. “You're a good girl, Mackenzie. Say hello to Felicity for me and have a nice time.”

“Thanks. See you soon,” I said and left before she got tearful and I felt guilty for leaving her sight again. I wish I could've stayed in to stop her worrying, but I had to clear my and my friends' names and figure out who was sending me sinister text messages.

If Megan, Kyle, Aaron, or Blake were responsible, Felicity could help me go to the police. I'd like to think I was strong enough to do the right thing for Courtney, but turning in someone I loved wouldn't be easy. Felicity could give me the support that I needed.

I saw her as soon as I walked into the restaurant. She sat at the back of the pub, next to a window, wearing a deep-red summer dress and a cropped denim jacket. Her hair fell in tight blond ringlets down to the bottom of her shoulder blades.

Felicity's appearance couldn't have been more different from Courtney's. Court's hair had been stick straight and a fierce red since she was fifteen. She loved the color.

“Hey,” I said as I approached the table.

“Hi,” Felicity replied, her solemn expression brightening as she stood and held her arms out for a hug. At least she didn't think I killed her cousin.

I hugged her back, and we sat down. “How is everyone?”

“Devastated. I don't want to leave them, but I have so much work to do.” She bit her lip and her eyes clouded over. “And truthfully, I can't stand being there. I know that sounds ridiculously selfish, but there's nothing I can do to help. I've never felt so useless before.”

“You're not useless. I don't think anyone can do anything right now. They lost their daughter; they need time.”

“And what about you? What do you need? Kyle said you're dealing with this well.”

My back stiffened. “You've spoken to Kyle?”

She picked up the breakfast menu and scanned the options. “He's dropped by a few times. The pancakes are a bit hit-and-miss here, aren't they?”

“Sometimes they're amazing and other times they're awful,” I agreed. I didn't know Kyle had gone around to see Court's family. He was still angry with Courtney for choosing Josh over him, so why go to see her family? Kyle and Aaron both secretly visited the family of the girl they loved, but it didn't make any sense.

An annoying, nagging voice in the back of my head kept screaming that Kyle was hiding something else.

I'm missing something here.

What if it
was
Kyle? I had known the guy practically my whole life. Surely no one could be
that
blind. But if the last week few weeks had taught me anything, it was that I was so blind it was almost embarrassing.

Could he have sent that text?

“What's going on then, chick? You know it's not healthy to bottle up your emotions.”

I laughed and tucked my hair behind me ears. That one I had heard far too often lately. “I'm temporarily bottling. I'll grieve when their killer is found—or at least when we're scrubbed off the suspect list.”

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