Chapter 19

AFTER FOUR HOURS, CARA’S JEANS WERE SPLASHED UP TO her knees. Her shoes were soaked through to her socks, and she had a big scratch across her cheek where a blackberry bramble had whipped her in the face. And there was no sign of Alexis. There’d been some excitement when one of the dogs had stumbled on a bone, but it turned out to belong to a deer carcass lying a few feet away. By three o’clock, the search began to break up. People straggled home across the park, and back at the Methodist parking lot, cars pulled out one by one until only the Hennings and Cara’s parents were left, wrapping the coffee carafe and collecting the torn and damp fliers from the lawn. Ethan had to go after getting a call from his mom.

Mom and Dad promised to go to dinner with the Hennings. With relief, Cara walked home slowly. The foyer was deserted, with only a round dent on Samson’s usual bed on the hall chair. She went straight to her room. She ached all over, her feet were freezing, and all she wanted was a hot bath and her robe. Then some dinner and the sofa with the TV on, getting lost in some stupid romantic comedy where people didn’t show up dead in pools or go missing in the middle of the night.

But her room was deserted—again. “Damn it!” Cara slammed her backpack to the floor. It was so stupid and dangerous for Zoe to be running around, especially today when all of those people were out. Especially if she really did do something bad back at home. Cara had done her best not to pry into Zoe’s past. But if Zoe really had committed some kind of crime, it was going to catch up to her eventually. The police were everywhere. She couldn’t stay hidden forever. And apparently, she didn’t want to.

The anger built in Cara’s head until she turned and ran out of the room in a white heat. She pounded down the stairs and back out the front door, her wet sneakers slapping the floor.

Outside, the sky had grown overcast, the brilliant colors of the morning replaced by muted shadows. The sun was low in the sky. Cara ran down the street, past the school and the water tower and down the steep slope to the farm fields. There was nothing charming about the scene today—just dead, brown goldenrod and crashed-over clumps of yellow grass. She ran through the fields, her breath whistling in her throat.

The barn was visible ahead. Cara pulled up as she reached it. She wasn’t surprised to find the door partly open. “Zoe?” she called. Turning sideways, she squeezed in through the crack. Damn, it was dark in here. “Zoe?” she called again. There was no answer, just a rustling. Cara’s heart started beating faster, and suddenly she didn’t want to be alone in the dark anymore. Bracing her back and her feet, she shoved open the heavy sliding door until gray light flooded the space.

Zoe stood in the middle of the straw-strewn floor, wearing one of Cara’s lace camisoles and flip-flops in spite of the cold. She had Samson in her arms.

“What are you doing?” Cara demanded. “Do you realize how dangerous it is for you to go out today? What’s the deal, Zoe? Do you actually want to be caught?” She paced the floor, her anger snapping from her like sparks.

“I’m sorry,” Zoe said in a little-girl voice. She pushed out her bottom lip and squeezed the cat in her arms. Samson struggled. “No, no, little kitty. Stay with Auntie Zoe.” She turned him upside down and cradled him like a baby. Samson flattened his ears and swiped at her with his claws extended.

“What are you doing here?” Cara demanded.

Zoe shrugged. “Just hanging.” Samson yowled and raked her forearm with his claws. Zoe dropped him abruptly on the ground. “Stupid cat.” He fell awkwardly and ran out of the barn, his tail swollen like a big brush.

Zoe came up to Cara. Her hair was greasy, and her camisole was stained with food. She’d put her hair up in an elaborate bun on top of her head, with messy strands hanging down all around her face. Cara could see the dandruff and grease in it. Her mascara was smudged in big rings around her eyes, which made her violet eyes look huge. Cara wrinkled her nose as Zoe came closer. She smelled like underarms and unwashed laundry, all overlaid with the powerful scent of Shalimar. Someone had given Cara a bottle one Christmas, and she’d never touched it. Zoe must have found it in her dresser.

Zoe came closer. A wave of light-headedness passed over Cara, and for a moment she swayed on her feet. “I’ve missed you,” Zoe crooned. She reached out and caressed a lock of Cara’s hair. Her fingernails were broken, one almost to the quick, but she hadn’t bothered to bandage it. “I was so lonely without you today.” She stepped closer. Cara could feel her hot breath on her cheek.

A wave of nausea enveloped her, and she pulled away. Quickly, she turned her back on Zoe and walked over to one of the glassless windows. She leaned out and breathed deeply of the cold, clean air that smelled only of wet earth and leaves.

When her stomach was no longer threatening to reverse itself, Cara turned back to Zoe. She was squatting on the floor now, picking at one of her toenails.

“Zoe, what’s the deal? Do you have a plan? How long do you think you’ll be staying here?” The words came out sharper than Cara intended, and she watched in dismay as Zoe’s face crumpled. Her eyes filled.

“What’s the deal with you, Cara?” she sniveled. Muddy tears rolled down her face and into the front of her shirt. “I thought we were best friends, and now you’re kicking me out?”

“No, wait. That’s not what I meant. I just meant . . . I don’t know.” She paced to the other end of the barn.

“We’re best friends, Cara, aren’t we?” Zoe’s voice behind her was thick with tears. Cara turned around. Zoe was still squatting on the ground, her arms around her knees. A bubble of green snot formed over one nostril. Cara grimaced.

“Look, Zoe, I’m just saying this because you seem . . . not happy,” Cara tried. “It seems like it’s stressful for you, being here. Maybe if we thought about it, we could figure out somewhere else for you to go.”

Zoe swiped the back of her hand under her nose. “There’s nowhere else for me to go,” she said. She sounded tired all of a sudden. “But I’ll go if you want me to. I guess you do want me to, now that you’ve got other friends and a boyfriend. You’re right—you must be sick of me.” She got to her feet. Her camisole shifted, hanging down to reveal her bony chest. A deep scar Cara didn’t remember ran down her sternum. Cara winced and looked away.

“I just need to get my stuff out of your room. Then you won’t have to see me again.” Zoe turned toward the door.

“Zoe, wait.” The words came out of Cara’s mouth as if someone else were speaking. “Don’t.”

Zoe stopped but didn’t turn around. Cara put her hand on her friend’s shoulder. Her skin was cold and damp, like a frog’s.

“I’m sorry,” Cara said softly. “I’m sorry, Zo.” She sighed. “It’s just . . . it’s been a long day, okay? I’m really stressed out over the whole Alexis situation.”

Zoe turned around. Her tears were gone. “Did you see Ethan at the search party?” she asked brightly.

Cara blinked at the sudden shift. “Um, yeah, I did,” she said slowly. “He had a really rough night. The police—”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh.” Zoe nodded her head rapidly. “I see. Really stressed about Alexis, huh, Cara? Or is it Ethan? You should be happy, you know. You have everything you want now that Alexis is gone. Or do you wish I hadn’t—” She stopped.

Cara stared at Zoe. Her friend’s eyes were dry now, her smile was wide. She looked around the barn. “I wonder where Samson went. Kitty!” Her voice echoed in the rafters. She looked at Cara. “I can’t leave without him. Will you help me look, Cara? Then we can go back to your room. And you can tell me what you and Ethan talked about.”

Cara nodded. That’s what Zoe wanted. So that’s what she was going to do.