The Cabin (6 page)

Kyle followed my gaze to Blake. “Maybe it was,” he whispered.

I narrowed my eyes. We couldn't turn against each other. We had to stick together until the police found out who was
really
responsible. I was about to defend Blake when Wright came back into the room.

“We're going to run a drug test on you too, Mackenzie,” he announced as if he'd offered me a cup of tea.

“What? Why do you need to do that?” I asked. He hadn't mentioned that before. They already had the clothes we were wearing and our other belongings from the cabin. I thought they had finished with the tests.

Oh, this is the
because
.

He rubbed the dark stubble under his chin. “Standard procedure, especially when I have two murdered teens and five more at the crime scene claiming to remember nothing. Take a seat, Miss Keaton, Mr. Harper. I'll be with you again in a moment.” He stepped out into the hallway.

Blake sat on one of the faux leather chairs, staring into space. I took a seat between him and Megan. “This is like a dream,” Megan whispered.

“A nightmare,” I countered. “Have you both been tested yet?”

Blake shook his head. “Aaron went first.”

Aaron looked up. “Did they tell you what they're testing for?”

“This is the first I've heard of it.” I shrugged. “I really don't know. I've never had to take a drug test before. This is crazy.” Did they test for every drug or just the most common ones? “Have you seen your mum yet?” I asked Megan.

She shook her head, crying. “I-I think they're all here, or they've been called, but we can't see them until we've done this.” Her voice wobbled.

Defiantly, Blake stood up and walked to the window again. He leaned on the windowsill, deep in thought. Soon he would have to face his parents and they were going to have a lot more to deal with than just getting him through what'd happened to Josh and Courtney—they had also lost a son.

“Megan, come with me,” Wright said, poking his head into the room again.

Megan shot me a look as if to say either
wish me luck
or
help
and scurried after Wright with her shoulders hunched. I ran through everything that had happened for the millionth time, but once I'd fallen asleep, I remembered nothing. No noise in the night that disturbed me. Surely someone would scream if they were being murdered. If Courtney saw a spider, her scream could wake someone from a coma. I may have been extra tired after drinking and being with Blake, but surely not
that
exhausted.

The door opened and Kyle was summoned. Wright was calling each of us himself. Why wouldn't he send an officer to do that? Did he need that much control that he did the rubbish jobs himself too?

I sat back and closed my eyes. There was nothing new I could remember and it scared me that so much of the evening was either a blur or completely missing. That didn't look good. We couldn't have been drugged. No one else was in the house, unless it had been done before we left for the weekend. Some bottles of spirits had been opened previously.

But who would drug us?

“Blake, are you OK?” I asked once we were alone.

He shook his head. “Me and Josh…” Shaking his head again, he turned to me. My breath caught in my throat. His eyes were dull and he held himself differently. He looked haunted, like he was in physical pain.

You and Josh what?

“What, Blake?” I prompted softly.

“This is going to kill my mum. She'll wish it were me.”

I blinked in shock. Sure, Blake had decided to live with his father, but that didn't mean his mum didn't love him as much as Josh. “No, that's not true.”

He frowned in despair and bent slightly as he blew out a breath. In that moment, I knew he believed what he said was true. He really believed his mum loved his brother more and would prefer him to be dead. “She wouldn't want it to be you.”

“No, she wouldn't
want
it. But she would want it to be Josh a hell of a lot less.”

“Blake, come with me,” Wright ordered.

We hadn't had enough time to talk. I wanted to reassure him that his mum wouldn't wish he'd died over Josh. Wright wasn't going to give us another minute though. Blake walked out without another word or even a glance in my direction, and I sat down. My head fell back against the wall. How was I even here? I wanted my parents. Mum could fix anything.

She can't fix this.

When it was my turn, I was led down a short corridor and into a small room with a table like they had in the emergency room. “Sit down, please. This won't take long,” a lady told me. She turned before introducing herself, so I guess I wasn't going to get to know her name.

“Thanks,” I said, taking a seat and biting my lip.

“Lift up your sleeve.”

My eyes widened. “This is a blood test?” I was scared of needles, so avoided blood tests like the plague. Something told me I couldn't opt out of this one though. How would that look?

“Yes. Lift up your sleeve, please.”

I shoved the elbow-length sleeve over my elbow and gripped the side of the chair. Why didn't I request my mum or dad come with me? Blood tests were never as bad as I worked myself up to believe, but I still hated having them done. “W-what are you testing for?” I asked.

“Drugs,” she replied in very much a “duh” manner.

Weren't they required to tell you what it was exactly if you asked? I didn't push it. I just wanted to go home. I needed to see my parents. What was supposed to be a chilled-out, drunken weekend messing around with my friends had ended with blood, murder, and police. Today had to end.

The needle stabbed my skin. I held my breath and squeezed my eyes closed as I imagined it sinking into my vein. It stung.
This is nothing compared to what Courtney went through.
I swallowed the lump in my throat. Had she been in pain long? Did she pray for death?

“All right,” the nurse said, gently pulling out the needle and placing a cotton ball and Band-Aid over the spot. “All done. You can wait with your friends in the front. I believe your parents are here.”

“OK, thanks,” I replied and hurried out of the room.

I stepped into the holding area. Aaron, Kyle, and Megan sat on chairs by the front door. I sat beside a shaking Megan and rubbed my arms, suddenly feeling cold.

“Where's Blake?” I asked.

Megan nodded to the door to an office. “Speaking to his dad on the phone. He's in Hong Kong, apparently, and trying to get a flight back.”

“He doesn't even seem that upset. His brother just died,” Aaron said, watching Blake through the glass. “What does that tell you?”

“That he's just seen his brother's lifeless body and he's in shock. Same as us,” I replied.

How could Aaron judge Blake like that? There was no set way to behave when you lost someone you loved. Everyone reacted to grief and loss differently. I surprised myself by being so calm. When Tilly and Gigi died, I had been a mess. But I saw them die. We were traveling home, joking around and playing the license plate game that I sucked at. We were hit. I remembered the sound of crushing metal and the screams from my friends. Tiny pieces of glass were everywhere, cutting into my skin. Everything was in slow motion until we came to a stop. I heard Tilly cry until she fell silent and I heard Gigi whisper something unintelligible before her eyes closed forever. But I couldn't move. I was sitting behind them but I couldn't reach. My seat belt had locked and I was dizzy. I
tried
but I couldn't move to help them.

This time was different. This time their deaths didn't appear to be accidents—and my friends and I were also suspects. I couldn't grieve properly while I was being questioned, while their killer was still out there.

We were all in shock. Blake was no exception.

Aaron snorted. “Why do you always try to see the good in everyone?”

Why was that a bad thing?
Aaron was too quick to cut someone out of his life. I didn't want to be like that. People deserved a first and second chance.

“It's pathetic, Mackenzie,” Aaron huffed.

“That's enough!” Kyle snapped.

Aaron sighed heavily. “Shit. I'm sorry, Kenz. I shouldn't have said that. I guess being trusting is not a bad thing.” I could tell by how tight and tense his jaw was that it almost hurt him to apologize. Aaron was stubborn and hated to admit he was wrong.

Wright reappeared and addressed us in the lobby. “You're all free to go,” he said, “but don't leave town because I'm going to want to talk to you again very soon.” Turning on his heel, he walked out.
That's it?

I would've thought he would keep us for more questioning. His tactics were odd and unnerving.

I stood and took a deep breath. What were my parents going to think? I knew they would believe me when I told them I hadn't hurt Josh or Courtney, but would they believe we were all innocent? They trusted my friends, but that trust was being pushed to the limit. To get through this, I needed them to be on my side and to trust that I knew my friends.

Aaron and Kyle lead us out; Megan trailed behind in a daze. My hands shook as Kyle pushed open the door. All of our parents stood in the reception area talking to two officers. My dad looked like he was about to physically move someone out of his way so he could come and find me. He would hate not being able to do anything. Mum's eyes were red and her pale skin was blotchy from crying. I gulped as her eyes met mine.

“Oh, Mackenzie,” Mum said, her voice full of emotion. I stumbled forward; my legs barely carried me to her before I collapsed in her arms. “Shh, it's OK, darling,” she whispered softly and stroked my hair.

I gripped her and fell apart.

Monday, August 17

I could feel all eyes on me and my friends. It'd been that way for the last nine days, since Josh and Court were murdered. My room had been searched and I'd been over my version of events about a thousand times.

People were supposed to be innocent until proven guilty, but whenever I left the house, people watched me, whispering things like, “There she is,” “It can't be her,” or “It's usually the nice ones, you know.” Women who spent their days drinking tea with my mum while they planned yet another village fund-raiser now crossed to the other side of the street when they saw me. It was awful to know so many of my neighbors who'd watched me grow up had written me off as a killer. Written us all off. There were a lot of rumors. The most popular one seemed to be that we all planned it and were now covering our tracks.

Josh's mum, Eloise, welcomed us into her house for the wake. We'd known Eloise for years, so I was confident that she believed we weren't responsible, but Josh's other relatives seemed quick to judge and assume. Megan gripped my arm. Since we'd walked through the door ten minutes ago, she had avoided eye contact with everyone. She was doing nothing to prove our innocence and she didn't even seem to care.

I thought the police would want Courtney's and Josh's bodies longer but apparently not. The healing process could start once you had said good-bye—something my mum swore by. I disagreed. The funeral was the good-bye, but afterward, you had to piece your life back together and find a way of dealing with the absence of that person. After the good-bye was the hardest bit. I had found it so difficult to move on after Tilly and Gigi and felt like I was the only one of my friends still struggling.

“We shouldn't have come here,” Kyle whispered, darting his chocolate eyes around the room. He was nervous and on edge.

I straightened my back. “We have as much right to be here as everyone else. We've done nothing wrong. We might not have been Josh's number-one fans, but he was Court's boyfriend. We need to say good-bye too.”

“But his goddamn family clearly doesn't want us here,” Aaron added, speaking through his teeth.

“We won't stay long. Just long enough to show Eloise and Blake we're here for them.”

Aaron scoffed. “We should be looking a little closer at Blake.”

Rolling my eyes, I replied, “Why's that?”

“Who is the most likely killer, Mackenzie?”

I shrugged. “I don't know. Some crazy guy out in the woods who got in and—”

Kyle sighed. “No one broke in though, Kenzie. Aaron's right. It has to be Blake.”

“It's not him, Kyle.”

His eyes homed in on me. “Why not? What's going on with you two?”

I licked my lips, not wanting to tell them about my night with Blake. I'd have to tell them at some point, but now was not the time. They thought he was the killer and it would probably only add to their suspicion if they knew about us. I was sure I'd get comments about how he only did it to give himself an alibi. “What? Nothing's going on. Josh is his brother. I'm sorry if I don't believe the guy is capable of killing his own brother.” I shook my head and gritted my teeth. Why would they want to believe that over someone random?

“They're not close and he clearly didn't like Josh,” Megan said.

“And we thought he was an amazing guy,” I said sarcastically. “Look, let's not do this here. After Courtney's funeral tomorrow, we should do something to honor her. A formal wake isn't what she would want,” I said to change the subject.

It was hard enough to be at Josh's wake. I didn't know how I was going to make it through Courtney's funeral. I didn't want to go acknowledge the fact that I wouldn't get to see her again. How was I going to live without my best friend? At Tilly's and Gigi's funerals, me, Megan, and Courtney had clung to each other for support. Now it was just Megan and me, and as hard as Megan tried, she was too selfish to be supportive.

“Can we go soon? Please?” Megan pleaded. Her hair moved today as if she had toned down the hairspray, probably because she couldn't be bothered.

“In a bit,” I replied. “We should stay a little while longer, for Josh. Well, unless his mum asks us to leave.”

Josh and Blake's dad wasn't there. He hadn't been able to get back from his business trip in time due to issues at border control. I felt so sorry that he was missing his own son's funeral. Eloise should have waited. It was wrong and selfish of her not to. She should have put Josh before her hatred for her ex-husband. I could tell Blake wanted his dad here. He looked around at his family but kept to himself. It seemed as if he barely knew any of them.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Blake get up and leave the room. “I'll be back in a minute,” I said. He'd barely said a word to me the whole morning, and we needed to have more of a conversation about his mum and how he was dealing with Josh's death than was suited to one-word answers or grunts.

He was in the hallway when I found him, staring up at a large collage of photos in a huge glass frame. Without looking at me, he said, “I'm only in three of these.” There had to be more than sixty pictures, and he was right—they were all of Josh.

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be sorry, Mackenzie. He was her favorite, always had been. Even before my parents split, she preferred him. He was her little ‘Joshie.' He was the baby, so she put everything into him and I was left with next to sod all.”

I was surprised at the tone in his voice. I hadn't realized how deep his bitter resentment ran. He felt like his mum didn't love him.

I looked around, trying to figure out if anyone had heard us, but we were alone. I knew his words would make my friends more suspicious of him. He may have felt a lot of anger toward his mum and brother, but that didn't make him a killer. Getting rid of his brother wouldn't make his mom love Blake more—and it wouldn't explain why Courtney was dead too.

“She loves you, Blake. Josh is gone now. You and your mum have to support each other.”

“Why?” My breath caught at the fierceness of his smoldering, deep-blue eyes. “She was never there for me. She was
never
there.”

“You've both lost so much. Let this be a chance to bring you both closer together. Don't let Josh's death be for nothing.”

“I feel like I'm at a stranger's funeral in a stranger's house.” His eyes narrowed. “Josh and I hardly knew each other, and I don't want a relationship with my mother.” He turned and walked back into the lounge, leaving me speechless. How could he say that? I didn't believe it for a second. He wouldn't look so beat up if he didn't care.

A hand stroked down my back, and I jumped at the contact.

“Kenz,” Aaron said.

I turned to him, though it took me a moment to recover from Blake's words. “Yeah?” I replied.

“I know you're going to blow up over Blake being innocent again, but please hear me out.”

I rolled my eyes. “This is getting old, Aaron.”

“Please,” he repeated.

Sighing, I waved my hand, agreeing to listen.

“OK. Did you know Blake was kicked out of his old high school?”

“So?”

“For fighting.”

My eye twitched, and I fisted my hands. “Plenty of people get into fights in high school. I don't think we should condemn him for that.”

“Don't you think it's even a little bit strange that Blake, the delinquent son, turns up suddenly and the next morning we wake up to…what we woke up to?”

“No, I think there was someone else, someone with a grudge, who did something to the food and drink so we'd be out of it. Not all of the drinks we took with us were new and food can easily be tampered with.”

“I get that you don't want to believe it. I don't either, but what other feasible option is there? We know no one else was in the house. Will you at least consider this theory?”

I shook my head. “No.”

Aaron sighed in defeat and said, “Let's go back in.” I walked ahead and heard him add, “You'll wake up soon,” under his breath.

I ignored him. He could think whatever he wanted; it wouldn't change what I knew, what I felt deep down. Blake was innocent. I did
not
trust a killer enough to be intimate with him.

Aaron and I joined Kyle and Megan in the back corner, out of the way of the receiving line. Dozens of pairs of eyes followed me, but I refused to look at them, knowing I would just see blame and hate behind their gazes. I didn't know everyone here, but those I did acted as if I could give them the plague and avoided me.

“Just a little longer,” Kyle whispered, tightening his arms around Megan.

Blake entered the room, holding a glass of something amber. He took a sip and grimaced, then sat between his mum and us. All day, he had barely spoken to anyone and I noticed his family didn't make much of an effort to talk to him, except for his paternal grandparents. No wonder he felt Josh was the favorite.

“Can you
at least
promise us you'll be careful around him?” Aaron said, looking past me to Blake.

My heart gave a little squeeze and some of the annoyance I felt toward him and his “Blake's a bad guy” stance ebbed away. Aaron was worried about me. “I'll be fine,” I assured him.

“Promise me, Mackenzie.”

“I promise.”

“And you'll call me if you ever need me or don't feel safe?”

I frowned. “I will.” How on earth was I going to get them on Blake's—our—side? We were all in this together. Aaron nodded once and walked away, toward Josh's cousin, Greg, who was friends with Aaron from the high school football team. I was left speechless for a second time. I felt as if I were being pulled in two directions and had to pick a team. We were all supposed to be on the same team!

I looked over at Eloise and my heart broke for her. She stared at a framed picture of Josh that sat on the small end table beside her. I wanted to go over and comfort her, but what did you say to a woman who had just buried her son? I didn't even know her particularly well.

Blake watched his mum. He looked torn, lost even.
Forget this!
I wasn't going to give up on him that easily. He was hurting, and I wasn't going to let him push me away like everyone else.

I walked across the room and sat beside him. “Hey,” I said. Despite what Aaron and Kyle said, I believed he didn't do it. He may have been the odd one out, but that didn't mean Blake was a killer.

“Hi.” He leaned his elbows on his knees. “She won't even look at me,” he said, paying no attention to our last conversation. I wasn't sure what to say. “Last night when I asked her if she wanted me to do the reading for her, she looked at me like…” He shook his head and sighed. “I don't even know how to explain. I could see in her eyes that she was burying the wrong son.”

“Don't say that,” I said softly.

“It's true. Hell, I don't blame her. I didn't choose her. I wanted to live with Dad, and Josh wanted to be with her.”

“That doesn't mean she loves you any less.”

He turned his head to the side and looked up at me. “The glass is always half-full in Mackenzie's world, isn't it?”

Is he serious?
“Does it look half-full?” I deadpanned.

“You're trying to be optimistic. That's why you won't accept that one of your friends killed my brother,” he said, nodding to the corner where my friends stood huddled together. “Josh and Courtney are dead, but if you can prove your friends are innocent…then the glass is half-full.”

“You're way too cynical, even for what's going on here. You have to have people you trust. You have to be positive even when everything feels so negative. Do you trust anyone?”

“Myself.”

“That doesn't count.”

He sat up straight and shrugged. “Then no.”

“That's really sad.”

“If you don't trust anyone, then no one can screw you over. You're going to find that out the hard way,” he said and excused himself.

Kyle was right. We shouldn't have come. I walked into the kitchen to get my bag so we could leave. It was time to go.

“Which one of you was it?” Josh's uncle, Pete, spat. Pete and my dad were friends, so the way he looked at me with hate made me feel like crap. “Which one of you bastards killed my nephew?”

I shook my head, pressing my back against the marble counter. Was he going to hit me? His face was red with rage and his eyes were wide. Bubbles of saliva gathered in the corners of his mouth.

“None of us, Pete, I swear,” I replied. “We wouldn't hurt Josh or Courtney.”

“You have the audacity to turn up at his funeral!”

“We haven't done anything wrong.”

“Tell the truth,” he hissed through his teeth. “Tell the police what you did.”

“Pete, please—”

“No,” he growled, making me flinch. He looked so furious that I wasn't sure what he would do. “It had to have been one of you. If you had any decency at all, you would own up and put an end to our family's misery. Josh deserves justice.”

So does Courtney.
“I want that too. You're looking for justice in the wrong place, Pete. I promise you, we didn't do this.”

“Your promises mean nothing to me, Mackenzie. My sister might not see what you've done to her son, but I sure can. You will pay—”

“Hey,” Kyle snapped. I spun around and saw him at the door to the kitchen. “That's enough.” He wrapped his arm around me, pulling me against his side protectively. “I'm sorry you lost your nephew, but we lost two friends. This wasn't our fault.”

“You're all liars. You'll rot in hell for this.”

“Pete!” I said. It was so unlike him I felt as if he'd thrown a punch. The once joke-a-minute man that had me in stitches when I was younger was cold and hateful. “I understand you want someone to blame. I do too, but we didn't hurt them.” I wasn't sure if he would ever believe me. I could tell him a million times that it wasn't us, but he was so wrapped up in what the police said and needing someone to blame that he couldn't see clearly.