The Cabin (19 page)

Megan knelt beside me. “But this isn't the same, Kenz. Tilly and Gigi were an accident. This,” she said, shaking her head, “this was deliberate.”

“We can't just give up,” I replied, sobbing. “We have to stick together. I know this is harder, but we can get through it. I need you both. Aaron too.”
And Blake
, I added silently. Especially Blake. But now was not the time to include him—not when my friends were still banking on Blake being the killer.

“You're right. Why don't you come back to Kyle's with me and we can talk about all this stuff? Maybe we can figure it out together,” Megan said.

Behind us, Blake scoffed. “You mean so you can try to find a way to pin it on me.”

I turned around, giving him my full attention. “That's not what she meant.”

Kyle pushed off the ground and scowled. “The hell it isn't! We all know you had a problem with your brother.”

Folding his arms over his chest, Blake grinned sarcastically. “We all know
you
had a problem with my brother, and since he was getting in the pants of the girl you love, I think your motive shoots you to the top.”

“Stop!” I yelled, standing up and holding my arms out between them. “You guys have to stop this.”

“Why are you always defending him?” Kyle spat.

“Because he's in the exact same position as us. Just because we didn't know him before doesn't—”

“Mackenzie,” Kyle said, cutting me off. “We don't know him now.”

I sighed sharply. “Then trust
me
, Kyle.”

“You're shagging him,” Kyle sneered, stumbling back a step.

“No,” I lied. I had slept with him. “You need to go home. I'm not talking to you when you're like this.”

“Whatever,” he mumbled, walking toward the parking lot in a wonky, alcohol-fueled line.

Kyle refused to get in the car with Blake, so I helped Megan get him into her car and she took him home. I got back in the stupid flashy sports car and closed my eyes. “Is it Kyle?” I asked Blake as he turned the engine on.

“I don't know. He's mad, but he seems more self-destructive rather than murderous. Wanna check Aaron before I take you back to my place?” he replied.

“I'm going back to yours?”

“Yeah, my mum's still a mess, and I don't know how to handle women upset, you know that.”

I shook my head. “Fine. I'll text my mum to tell her where we are. Aaron's next. Wright tomorrow.”

“You think we'll find anything at Aaron's?”

“What're you expecting? Aaron to be carrying a suspicious black bag or a rolled-up rug?” I replied.

“Ha-ha,” he said flatly. “Buckle up.”

I did just in time for him to step on the accelerator, pinning me to the back of the seat. We arrived at Aaron's far too quickly, because Blake was mental behind the wheel, and parked a little way down the road.

“Can I talk to you about something?” I asked.

“I think it was Aaron in the kitchen with a knife.”

I rolled my eyes. It was so hit-and-miss whether Blake would take what I had to say seriously or not. “You know one day you'll have to deal with what happened to your brother too, right?” Blake's defense was to joke around and make light of every situation. It was probably something he had done his whole life. I could picture him joking about what a crap mum he had even though it must have left its mark.

“Sure. Not looking forward to your breakdown, I have to say.”

“Because you don't do hysterical women.”

“No, because I don't want to see you upset,” he said quietly.

“Oh.”

He smirked. “Not what you expected me to say, huh?”

“Nope, not really.”

“I'm not a complete arsehole, you know.”

“Oh, I know. No, not a
complete
one.”

“But seriously, what did you want to talk about, Mackenzie?”

I licked my lips, debating if this was a good idea or not. But I didn't have anything to lose. “I've received a couple messages.”

His eyes locked onto mine. “No number, cryptic shit?”

My spine straightened. “You had them too?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn't you tell me?”

“Why didn't you tell
me
?”

Sighing, I leaned closer and handed him my phone. “Show me yours.”

“Mackenzie, I'm all up for—”

“Don't finish that sentence, Blake. Show me the messages you received.” I held out my hand and wiggled my fingers. He dropped his phone in my palm, already looking at my messages. I read the ones he had received.

Did you tell the police just how much you hated Josh?

You're not fooling anyone.

I looked up at Blake, but he was still engrossed in my messages. Who did the sender think Blake was not fooling?

Poor Uncle Pete. He should've kept his nose out.

I placed my hand on my neck, feeling warm. What kind of person would send a message like that? Blake may not have been close to Pete, but he was still family.

Go to the police and Mackenzie will be next.

I shuddered and put Blake's phone down, feeling sick to my stomach. I didn't want to see more. Now I was being threatened?

“Do you think Megan, Kyle, and Aaron have been getting these too?” I asked. My heart thudded and my hands trembled. Someone would hurt me. They'd
threatened
to hurt me!

He shrugged. “I think at least two of them have.”

“Come on, do you really think whoever it is wouldn't text their own phone too?”

“Worth you asking. Their reaction might give away a clue.”

“Yeah, maybe.” I bit my lip and handed his phone back.

“Mackenzie, what you just read on there…”

“We don't need to discuss it.”

“No one is going to hurt you.”

I hope not.
Giving Blake a smile, I pulled myself together. This was not the time to freak out.

Blake tapped my knee. “Aaron's door!”

Someone in a hooded black jacket and dark jeans was talking to Aaron on his doorstep. They exchanged a few words and then Aaron retreated back inside.

“Bloody druggie,” Blake muttered. “Well, I think it's safe to say Aaron would know where to get Rohypnol.”

I wanted to run to Aaron, flush whatever he'd just bought, and slap him until he saw sense. There wasn't a thing I could do if he wanted to spiral though. All I could hope was that he'd snap out of it. Josh's and Courtney's deaths had clearly brought back all he'd felt when he'd lost Tilly. But he wasn't going to be able to smoke away his guilt over their relationship. Not forever.

Even though I couldn't deny what I'd just seen, I still felt a stab of honor. I wanted to defend Aaron. “I thought you said weed and Rohypnol were two completely different things and we shouldn't—”

“Yes, Mackenzie, but how many people do you know that do a bit of weed dealing like that? And own nice, flashy Range Rovers like that? Which, by the way, total cliché. It's the drug dealer's car of choice.”

“I don't know any drug dealers. Drugs don't appear in my world.”

He smiled sarcastically and nodded toward Aaron.

I added, “That I knew of.”

“This is pointless. Driving this around was fun, but we're not undercover cops. Let's take the car back and head to my house,” he said.

“Today was a complete waste of time.”

Blake stroked the steering wheel. “I enjoyed driving this.”

“Oh, I stand corrected,” I replied sarcastically.

“I liked spending time with you,” he said quietly.

Well, that did things to my heart that had me falling even harder for him. “Yeah, I enjoyed it too.”

He flashed a boyish grin. “Let's go chill on my bed and I'll let you take advantage of me.”

I shoved his arm, then gave him my best smile.

Wednesday, August 26

Since Blake and I admitted we'd both received threatening texts, we wanted to check out Josh's room, in case he had also been getting threats before he'd died. We didn't have access to Courtney's place, but if we found anything suspicious at Josh's, I was going to find a way to get into her house.

“I just don't get it,” I said into the phone to Blake while starting up at my ceiling. Mum and Dad were downstairs, and I couldn't handle them constantly questioning if I was OK. I wasn't and pretending was draining.

“To be fair, you don't get any of it. Don't yell, because neither of us do.”

I ignored him, half because I couldn't be bothered to bicker and half because I knew he didn't mean to make it sound like I was stupid.

“If Josh and Courtney were being stalked before they died, why wouldn't she tell me? It's a long shot, isn't it?”

“Probably, but it's a scenario we should consider. Maybe they figured out who it was and that's why they were killed.”

OK, that made sense. If Megan, Kyle, or Aaron had been sending threats and Court and Josh figured it out, they'd want to shut them up. Maybe something the stalker had sent to Josh was still in his room. I had kept the texts sent to me.

“So we need to find something that links Megan, Kyle, or Aaron to evidence we may or may not find in Josh's room?” I said, putting the phone on speaker so I could lay it down.

“Piece of cake, right?” he said sarcastically.

“I'm scared, Blake. Whoever is sending those messages has made sure we're too scared to show the police. That message said they'd
kill
me.” Betrayal burned like acid. Whoever sent that message didn't care who they hurt, and that made them dangerous.

“Do you want me to pick you up?” Blake asked.

“No, it's OK. I'll be over in a few.”

“All right, see you soon.”

I rolled onto my side and ended the call. When I got to Blake's, I would feel better. Something about him made me feel safer. He was big and strong, and I knew he wouldn't let anything happen to me. I might not have known him long, but I trusted him above any of my friends—he was the only one helping. Whether Courtney and Josh were already dead when Blake and I went upstairs, I didn't know—and I believed that Blake didn't know either.

Since the murders, going outside left me full of nerves, and today was no different. I got ready and slammed the front door as I left. The local knitting club was walking by on their way to the village hall for their weekly meeting. Five old biddies judged me, stopping to get a good look.

Before the murders, they would have stopped to chat and tell me I needed to put some “meat on my bones.” This time, they whispered to each other, stealing glances at me out of the corner of their eyes.

Mildred, the eldest and brightest-purple rinse of the bunch, was the first one who would usually call me over. Last winter, she knitted me a pink-and-brown-striped scarf because I didn't wrap up warm enough, apparently. It hurt that she turned so easily.

People weren't supposed to be guilty until proven innocent. Ignoring them, I got in my car and got the hell away from all the judgmental looks.

Blake was sitting on his front doorstep when I arrived. “You're waiting for me,” I said as I got out of the car.

“Did Josh have something going on with Tilly and or Gigi?”

“Tilly and or Gigi? Where did that come from?”

He shrugged. “I get them mixed up.”

“No, he didn't have a thing with either of them. Gigi was a lesbian, remember?”

“Megan was straight, remember?”

Fair point.

“Why'd you ask, Blake?”

“Because,” he replied, holding out a handful of photos of Tilly, “I found these in his sock drawer.”

Cocking my head to the side, I took them from his hand and flicked through them. They were all close-up pictures of Tilly. None were too odd, most candid ones, as if she hadn't known they were being taken.

“Tilly,” I whispered, unease seeping into my bones. “Why would he have all these?” There had to be at least twenty pictures. When I reached one of the bottom photos in the stack, it was just of her cleavage. I shoved them back at Blake. “Why does he have those?”

“I dunno.”

“Oh God, was he cheating too? No,” I said, shaking my head at how ridiculous the thought was. Tilly wouldn't go near Josh. Like, even if he were the last man on earth. She may have thought less of him than I did. “They don't look right, do they? If you were posing for your piece on the side, you'd actually pose a little. Half of them look candid and the other half look like general pictures.”

“General pictures?”

“Yes!” I exclaimed, having gone way past my tolerance for his smart remarks already. “You know, a smile for a picture anyone would take.”

“All right. Josh has general and candid pictures of Tilly. No sexy posing.” He shook his head and said, “I still don't know where you're going with this…”

“Really?” I replied flatly, pushing past him to go inside. “Blake, they mean Josh had a thing for Tilly, but it was just
his
thing.”

“She didn't have a thing,” he muttered and closed the front door behind us.

“I'm going to hit you very soon.”

He grinned and stepped far too close to me. “OK, I'm done.”

I stood my ground, not letting him know he affected me, even if every single nerve in my body fizzled. He would just love it if he knew how my legs turned to jelly when he stood just inches from me and how his voice gave me goose bumps.

“Lead the way,” I said, waving my hand to the stairs.

“Ladies first,” he replied. His voice was low, husky, and incredibly sexy. “Ah, but you're not a gentleman.” I already felt boneless, so knowing his eyes were on me as we walked upstairs would probably make me collapse.

His lip curved with amusement. “You're right.”

Blake walked ahead. As soon as there was some distance between us, my clouded mind cleared. I shouldn't have even been thinking of a guy with everything that was going on, and I couldn't even talk about it with anyone because things with Megan were weird and my only other girlfriends I could talk to about boy stuff were dead.

I stopped at Josh's open door. Blake had already gone inside, not caring that we were about to breach the privacy of his dead brother. “You waiting out there all day?” he asked.

“It feels wrong.”

“Do you want to get us off Wright's little list, or do you want to respect Josh's privacy?”

I walked straight in.

“That's what I thought. There's nothing else in any of the drawers. I've not looked anywhere else yet. You look under the bed, and I'll look in the wardrobe.”

“Great,” I muttered. Now what kind of grossness was going to be lurking under an eighteen-year-old guy's bed? That was something I was more than happy never to know the answer to, and I needed an answer for everything.

Turning my nose up in anticipation of all things disgusting, I knelt down and lowered my head to the floor. If there was a used condom, I was out. “Nothing,” I said, shocked. Everyone had at least a sock that had been kicked under their bed. Josh's was so clear I could see right through to the other side.

“Huh, what a pansy. You should see what's under my bed,” Blake said. I couldn't see his amused, cheeky little grin, but I knew it was there.

“No thank you,” I replied and stood up. “So where does he keep the things he doesn't want anyone to find then?”

Blake shrugged, holding up a black plastic box. “My guess is in here.”

My first thought was
Please let there be some useful clue in there
, and my second was
I really don't want to know if there is
. What if there was evidence that he'd been in a secret relationship with Tilly, and Aaron had found out about it? Stranger things had happened. Not a lot stranger, but still.

“You ready to see what deep, dark secrets my brother had?”

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“Good,” he replied as if I'd said yes. “Let's open it then.” He dropped the box on the bed, steadying it with one hand as it bounced. I held my breath as Blake took off the lid.

“Car magazines. Why hide those?” I asked. My heart dipped, thinking it was just a box full of old rubbish Josh hadn't got around to chucking. We were never going to find what we needed.

Blake cocked his head to the side and smiled as if to say
aw, bless
. “Underneath,” he said and lifted the two magazines that hid the real contents of the box.

My eyes widened in shock. “What the…”

“Ohhh, Joshua!” Blake exclaimed, laughing. “What were you into?” He lifted out a black gag and swung it around his index finger.
I think I'm going to vomit.
While Blake was playing and picking out metal handcuffs and something that looked like it belonged in a medieval torture chamber, I was motionless and speechless.

“OK,” I snapped. “Put it all back.”

“Oh, we got pictures!” he said, waving a pouch of disposable camera prints.

I raised a hand. “I don't want to. We can't.”

“These might be a clue. What if some are of Tilly?”

“Then they would be with the others you found.”
And I'd want to see them even less
. I knew it was likely to be photos of Courtney, handcuffed, bound, and whatever else they did together. “And why didn't the police find all this when they searched his room?”

“Because I might have found it in the loft last night and brought it down before you arrived.”

I threw my hands up in the air, exasperated. Blake was worse than a naughty toddler. “Well, why did you put it in his wardrobe, and why did you tell me to look under the bed?”

“I could hardly leave it on his desk, could I? My mum could have walked in and found it. And making you look under the bed was purely for my amusement.” He laughed and shook his head. “The look on your face when you thought you were going to find something disgusting under there…”

I took a deep breath.
Count backward from ten…

“Mackenzie, we have to look at the pictures. The whole point of snooping is to find evidence.”

“Something that lead to him killing Courtney and himself, not the kink he got off to!”

“How do you know it's not all linked? Who knows what he was into or how deeply?”

“What if it was some satanic…something?”

“Not sure you have to worship the devil to enjoy a bit of rough sex.”

I rolled my eyes. “I'm not saying that, but what if
he
did?”

“Why don't I look?”

“Oh, you'd love that, wouldn't you?”

“Ain't denying it, sweets.” What the hell was wrong with him? “Oh, don't look at me like that. It's not my thing, but whatever tickles your pickle.”

I laughed—properly laughed. “Tickles your pickle?”

“You must have heard that phrase before?”

I shook my head.

“You poor, sheltered girl.” He pulled the photos from the sleeve and his eyes widened. “Whoa.”

“What? What does that mean?”

He looked up over one of the photos, white as a ghost. “You really don't want to see.”

The very tips of my fingers tingled. “What is it? Don't show me, just tell me. Is it Courtney?”

He nodded. “And some of Josh.” His eyes rounded even more. “OK. That's going to take a lot of therapy.” Throwing everything back in the box, he shuddered and put the lid back on.

“Blake, what were the pictures of? How bad is it?”

He shuddered again. “Bad. Let's talk in my room, yeah.”

It must be bad if he can't even be in Josh's room anymore.

“Well?” I said, closing his door and shaking my hands.

“They did things to each other.”

“Yeah, I got that. What…what things?”

“Whipping. I saw a whip and…marks on Josh. Blood.”

My pulse thumped in my ears like a drum. “Blood? What were they doing? And whose blood?”

“Josh's. There was a cut on his chest. He had the camera at arm's length, taking a picture of Courtney…”

Oh, no, no.

“Courtney. Courtney doing what?”

“Licking it.”

“Bugger off,” I said.
If he thinks I'm falling for that…

“Mackenzie,” he whispered. His face was dead serious. He was
not
joking. My stomach lurched, and I slapped my hand to my mouth. “You might be right with your satanic thing. I know some guys get off on pain while they're balls deep, but that…”

I turned my nose up. “Oh my God, can you never refer to sex as ‘balls deep' again?”

He half smiled but mostly still looked sick.

“Damn it,” I muttered and sat on his bed. Courtney never mentioned being into that kind of stuff. Not even being tied up or blindfolded. We confided in each other about our intimate lives. Was she ashamed?

“You didn't know about any of it?” he asked.

I shook my head slowly, still trying to process the blood thing. “She never said a word.”

“I'm not surprised.”

“Me neither. Not about the really…odd stuff. I thought she would talk about lighter things though, but she hadn't—not even when Tilly admitted she loved being tied up and Gigi confessed her chocolate mousse fetish.”

“Please tell me you recorded your sleepovers.”

I arched my eyebrow, and he held his hands up, surrendering.

“Courtney never said anything,” I continued. “Not anything out of the ordinary anyway. Do you think she really wanted to do that stuff?”

“Lick her boyfriend's blood during sex? Does anyone want to do that?”