Shadow Creek (14 page)

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Authors: Joy Fielding

Tags: #Suspense, #Thriller

BOOK: Shadow Creek
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Val wasn’t sure of the precise order of the events that followed. She felt both arms moving at once, one hand hurling the BlackBerry toward the far wall just as Jennifer walked back into the room, the other hand connecting solidly with Brianne’s cheek. “She’s not in the dining room,” Jennifer was saying as the BlackBerry flew past her ear, missing her by inches.

And then everybody was screaming.

TEN

O
KAY, SO HOW WOULD you describe this if you were writing about it for the
New York Times
?” James asked as the three friends made their way along the steep, forested ridges of Prospect Mountain.

Val stopped on a large flat rock overlooking the valley, adjusting the wide-brimmed Tilley hat she’d purchased at the hotel gift shop earlier that morning. “I’d probably say something like ‘The spectacular view includes the thirty-two-mile-long expanse of crystal-clean, sparkling blue waters of Lake George some two-thousand-plus feet below, along with mile after mile of fragrant evergreens and an assortment of broadleaf trees that shoot from the sides of the surrounding mountains like fireworks.’ ”

James removed his own new hat, waving it up and down in
front of his face as if it were a fan. “Took the words right out of my mouth.”

“It really
is
spectacular.” Melissa’s eyes scanned the horizon from underneath the rim of her black baseball cap, with its
Welcome to the Adirondacks
logo emblazoned in red across it. “Although I’m surprised it’s so hot.”

“That’s what you get for wearing a black T-shirt,” Val said. “You know black holds the heat. How are the shoes?” Val had taken her friends to one of the hotel’s many shops to buy suitable clothes and shoes for their hike around Prospect Mountain, charging their various purchases to the room. It was, she’d decided, the least Evan could do after the horrific scene with their daughter earlier this morning.

“The shoes are great,” Melissa said. “It’s my feet that are killing me.”

“My calves are starting to cramp,” James complained.

“You’re a dancer,” Val reminded him. “Shouldn’t you be used to exercise?”

“I’m used to dancing, not climbing. And I’m retired, remember? The only exercise I get these days is searching out fine pieces of vintage costume jewelry.”

Melissa concurred. “There’s not a lot of climbing in costume jewelry.”

“So tell us more about the fascinating world of flora,” James urged, squatting on a large piece of rough stone and trying to make himself comfortable.

“You just want to sit down.”

“True enough. So shoot me. These legs need a break.”

“Mine, too,” Melissa said. “How about we take a five-minute recess?”

“We’ve been up here for almost two hours. That’s enough
wilderness for this queer city boy. How about we just head back to the lodge? That’s where all the fun stuff is happening.”

“I think I’ve had enough fun for a while,” Val said.

“Ah, but you were magnificent. Wasn’t she, Melissa?” James asked. “The way that BlackBerry went flying across the room …”

“Almost decapitating poor Jennifer,” Melissa said wistfully.

“… who screamed almost as loud as Brianne.”

“Nobody screams as loud as Brianne,” Val said, trying to block out the memory of those awful sounds. “I can’t believe I actually slapped her.”

“She had it coming,” Melissa said. “I almost slapped her myself.”

“She hates me.”

“She’s sixteen,” Melissa reminded her. “She’s supposed to hate you.”

“I shouldn’t have left her alone. I should have insisted she come with us.”

“Which would have made this hike even more fun,” James said.

“Besides, she’s not alone,” Melissa reminded her. “She’s with Jennifer.”

“Great. Her new best friend. And when did we stop calling her ‘the Slut’?”

“Sorry about that. Would you rather she hated her?”

“Better her than me.”

“Then you have to lay off the sarcasm and start killing her with kindness,” Melissa said. “That’s what I did with mother-in-law number two.”

Val regarded her friend quizzically, waiting for her to continue.

Melissa quickly obliged. “She was this old battle-axe. Hated
me from the word
go
. Made my life a living hell. At first I fought back, but it only seemed to excite her. Like it was a contest, who could get in the most zingers in the shortest amount of time. Then one day I just decided I wasn’t going to play that game anymore. Instead I was going to be the sweetest, nicest daughter-in-law a mother-in-law could possibly want. I was going to smother the old witch with compassion. And I did. Two months later, she had a heart attack and died. It was great.” Melissa’s smile filled the entire lower half of her face.

“You’re just saying that to make me feel good.”

“Is it working?”

“Yes.” Val laughed. “God, when did I become such an awful person?”

“You’ve always been awful,” James said.

“He’s right,” Melissa agreed. “You have.”

“Thanks, guys. I feel much better now.”

“Any time.”

“So, tell us more about wherever the hell it is we are so we can get the hell out of here.” James gestured toward the valley below. “You’ve got five minutes.”

Okay, Val thought, trying to recall enough geographical details of the area to take her mind off what had happened in the hotel room. “The Adirondack Park is the largest park in the continental United States,” she began, thinking of the times she and Evan had hiked through these very woods. “It’s shaped like a giant oval and is bigger than Yellowstone, Yosemite, Glacier, and the Grand Canyon combined. Six million acres, if you can imagine it. It’s actually larger than many of the neighboring states. A virtual tapestry of meadows, lakes, streams, woodlands, mountain peaks, and tiny villages.”

“A virtual tapestry,” James repeated. “That’s rather good.”

“If memory serves me, there are over five thousand public
and private campsites in Lake George alone,” Val continued, poring through the invisible file cabinets in her brain where such bits of information were stored. She and Evan had been to at least half a dozen. Val knew these woods as well as she knew the streets of the city.

“And at least that many deer flies,” Melissa said, swatting several of the pesky insects away from her face and neck.

“Okay, I’ve definitely had enough splendor in the grass for now,” James said. “Time to drive back to the lodge and lounge around some civilized concrete and chlorine. I think I’ll even let Evan treat me to that sweet little bathing suit I saw in the gift shop this morning, the one with the leaping dolphins.”

“Oh, come on, guys. You don’t really want to go back yet …”

“Yes, we really do,” James said. “Don’t we, Melissa?”

Melissa nodded. “What’s that expression,
too much of a good thing
?”

Can you ever really have too much of a good thing? Val wondered, deciding not to protest. Her friends had been good-enough sports, postponing their own plans in order to accompany her to the mountains, agreeing to go hiking in order to get her away from Jennifer and Brianne long enough for everyone to calm down, supporting her when she acted like a jerk, which seemed to be most of the time lately, all the while trying to keep her spirits up and her sanity intact.

Too late for that, Val thought. “Okay, let’s head back.”

Which was when they heard the sound of rustling in the nearby trees.

“Please tell me that’s not a bear,” James said.

“If it is,” Val cautioned, “just stand very still and then start backing away slowly. Whatever you do, don’t run.”

“Are you joking? Is she joking?” James asked Melissa.

“And don’t climb a tree. Bears are great climbers.”

The rustling drew nearer.

“This is not happening,” said James, shouting out in fear as the leaves parted.

A young man suddenly appeared before them. Tall, muscular, smooth-skinned. He was wearing a checkered shirt and khaki pants and his long, dark hair was pulled into a ponytail at the base of his neck. “Oh,” he said, seemingly as startled as they were. “Sorry. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”

“They thought you were a bear,” James said.

The boy laughed. “Only when I’m hungry.”

Val found herself staring at the dimples that creased the young man’s cheeks. I know those dimples, she thought, trying to figure out how that was possible. Is he a friend of Brianne’s? she wondered. He looked older than Brianne, but maybe they’d gone to the same school, or maybe even acted together in a school play. “Do I know you?” she asked, peering deep into his hazel eyes.

The boy returned her gaze with equal intensity. “No, I don’t think so.”

“I think you might know my daughter. Brianne. Brianne Rowe?”

He shook his head. “No. The name doesn’t ring a bell.”

“She goes to Erasmus High in Brooklyn.”

“I’m from Connecticut.”

Connecticut? Val didn’t know anybody who lived in Connecticut. “Sorry. It’s just that you look so familiar to me.”

“Hayden,” a distant voice called out. “Where the hell are you?”

“Up here, Dad,” the boy called over the sound of branches being parted and sticks being trampled underfoot.

Seconds later, another figure emerged from the dense foliage.
He was breathing heavily and his forehead glistened with the sweat of his recent exertions. “You gotta slow down, partner. Your old man’s not as young as he used to be. Hello,” he said upon seeing the others.

I don’t believe it, Val thought. What are the chances? “Gary?” she asked. “Gary Parker?”

“I’m sorry.” The man squinted through the sunlight. “Do I know you?”

Val whipped off her Tilley hat, giving a quick fluff to the matted hair beneath. “It’s Valerie. Valerie Marcus. Or, at least, it used to be Marcus. I went to Lincoln High. We were on the swim team together.”

“Oh, my God,” said Gary Parker. “It’s been … how long?”

“Must be twenty-five years.”

“Valerie Marcus,” he repeated with a shake of his head. “My God, how
are
you?”

“I’m fine. I can’t believe how much your son looks like you did at his age.”

“I can’t believe you remember.”

Neither can I, Val thought. Even though they’d been on the swim team together and had been in several of the same classes, they’d spoken maybe half a dozen sentences to each other during their entire tenure at Lincoln High. In fact, Gary Parker had probably said more to her in the last minute than he had their entire senior year. “These are my friends, James and Melissa.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Gary said, a sentiment that was quickly echoed by Melissa and James. “And I take it you’ve met my son, Hayden.”

“They thought I was a bear.”

“An understandable mistake.” Gary affectionately tugged on his son’s ponytail before returning his attention to Val, his hazel eyes twinkling mischievously. “So, you come here often?”

Val smiled. “Actually, I do. Or rather, I
did
. It’s been a few years. You?”

“Every chance I get. Magnificent, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is. Your son was saying you live in Connecticut.”

“For almost twenty years now. I moved there right after I graduated from college.”

“Full athletic scholarship to Duke, if I recall correctly,” Val said.

“That’s one impressive memory you’ve got.”

“Thank you, but I’ve never been sure if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

“Probably a bit of both.”

“Probably,” Val agreed. “So, what made you decide on Connecticut?”

“I met a girl.”

“Of course.” Something else she remembered: Gary had never had any trouble attracting female companionship. She noted that sometime in the last few sentences, Melissa and James had wandered a discreet distance away and were currently engaging Gary’s son in some idle chitchat.

“We were both majoring in business. Ruthie’s father was a stock trader, had his own brokerage firm in Connecticut. We got married, I joined the family firm, we had a son and then a daughter. And then, I’m sorry to say, a rather nasty divorce.” He lowered his voice. “That was five years ago. I left the firm but stayed in Connecticut to be near the kids.”

“So what business are you in now?” Val said, not the question she really wanted to ask. The question she really wanted to ask: Why the nasty divorce? To be immediately followed by: How nasty exactly?

“Same business,” Gary said, answering the only question voiced out loud. “More understanding boss this time around: me.”

Val agreed. “It’s nice to be your own boss.”

“So, what about you? Married? Divorced? Children? Career?”

“All of the above,” Val said. “Married. Divorced. Or almost, anyway. One daughter. One lapsed career.”

“What career? How lapsed?”

“I did some travel writing for the
New York Times
and a few other publications.”

“Yeah? Why’d you stop? I bet you were really good at it.”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because you were good at everything you did.”

“Why would you say that?” she asked again, fighting back the unexpected urge to burst into tears.

“Because you were fearless.”

“I was?” More like terrified, she thought.

“Are you kidding? I remember you at swim meets. You were this skinny little thing, all arms and legs; you hadn’t really filled out yet.” He stopped, coughed self-consciously into his hand. “But you were always so gung-ho. Your butterfly stroke was unconventional, to say the least. You had way more enthusiasm than technique. And yet you won every damn race you entered.”

Val smiled. It had been at her mother’s instigation that she’d first started swimming. Her mother still kept a shoe box full of her medals in one of her closets, although she’d probably forgotten where.

“And track and field, the same thing. You were quite the competitor.”

“Not so much anymore,” Val said, thinking of Jennifer.

“But still pretty athletic, I see.”

“I guess. You?”

“Not really. I ski a bit. Cross-country mostly. I bet it’s downhill for you or nothing.”

Yes, it’s been all downhill, Val thought. “I used to go heliskiing, believe it or not.”

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