The Cabin (8 page)

I clenched my jaw so hard in frustration it hurt. “So we should just give up and accept the situation?”

“No.” He sighed and hunched his shoulders. “I just don't know what to do or where to start. This is all pretty new to me.”

Maybe we do need lawyers.

“We start by making a list of anyone who hated either of them,” I said.

Josh's personality meant his list was going to be long. He'd rubbed hundreds of people the wrong way in the past. Of course, not all of them would kill over it, but Josh's enemies would be the answer here. I was sure of it.

I rubbed the ache between my eyes. “I can't think of anyone who hated Courtney. Can any of you?”

“Are we starting with Courtney so we can focus on who hates my brother?” Blake asked, reading me like a book.

“No offense, but—”

He held up his hand, and I stopped talking. “I get it, Mackenzie. I would have done the same. So…anyone hate Courtney? I didn't. Barely knew the girl.”

I shook my head. Kyle, Megan, and Aaron replied with shrugs. No one knew of anyone who didn't like her.

“I feel like we should get a large notepad to list suspects for Josh's killer,” Blake said, snorting in a humorless laugh.

“I'll start,” Kyle said. “We all know the four of us had a problem with him after Tills and Gigi died because of the things he'd said about them, but we also know it wasn't one of us four who did it. Blake had issues with his little brother too, right, Blake?”

“Right,” he replied. “But I didn't kill him either.” He looked beside Kyle to Aaron. “Contrary to popular belief.”

“Tilly's dad,” Aaron suggested, ignoring Blake completely.

“No, he was angry but not at anyone in particular,” Megan replied.

After Tilly's and Gigi's deaths, their parents dealt with it in very different ways. Gigi's were devastated but determined to make something positive by starting a charity to support families going through the loss of a child. Tilly's dad was devastated and furious.

Aaron glared at her. “He said he wanted to kill whoever was responsible for the car accident. Come on, we should at least consider it.”

Yes, Tilly's dad had said—in the heat of the moment and out of pure anger and grief—that he would kill the person responsible for his daughter's death, but I didn't think he would have followed through with his threat. But we weren't in the position to overlook anyone simply because we didn't want it to be true, so I ran with it.

“Aaron's right,” I said, arching my spine and sitting up. “Think about it. We were all in the minivan. We survived the crash and Tilly and Gigi didn't. The truck driver died too, so he couldn't pay. Courtney was the one driving, and Josh was the one who planned the trip and acted like an arsehole after. Maybe Tilly's dad held them responsible.”

Kyle scratched at his jaw roughly. “I get that. He lost his daughter, and there's no greater motivation to kill than revenge for your child.”

My stomach rolled over. That did make sense.

Thursday, August 20

“So why are you redecorating?” I asked Kyle as I stood in his bedroom. His furniture had been moved into the center and draped with sheets, exposing the dark, midnight-blue walls. Until ten minutes ago, I'd had no idea he was even thinking about redecorating. He had called a little while ago mumbling about needing to make changes and raging about how his room was too dark and depressing.

He'd been pacing since I arrived. I watched him walk from one side of his room to the other, staring at the blank walls. Kyle was very levelheaded, so this stressed side of him made me feel uncomfortable. He was passionate about the things that mattered to him, but we're talking about wall colors here.

His anxiety had me on edge. I tapped the outside of my thighs nervously.

“Just can't stand this shitty blue anymore.” He held up a large can of light but
bright
green paint. His demeanor made my pulse skitter nervously.

I smiled through my concern.
Something is really not OK with him.
“Err…Kyle?” He was trading one extreme color for another. The almost-black blue was dark and moody, and lime green was bright and over-the-top cheerful. It was like he was desperate to force a happy facade.

“You hate it?” he asked.

“I don't hate the color, not at all, but there's no way I'd want it on
every
wall. You'll get a headache after ten minutes.”

“I don't care. I need something vibrant. A complete change.”

I picked up one of the many brushes he had lined along his chest of drawers. “Yes, it's certainly a change. Let's get started then, I guess.”

He grinned. “What would I do without you?”

“Paint it yourself,” I replied with a smile and dipped the brush in the can of white.

“You holding up OK? Yesterday was…difficult,” he said, smearing paint on the wall haphazardly. Even though this was only a primer coat before things got very green, I still stroked my brush up and down carefully, making sure the paint went on evenly.

Yesterday was one of the hardest days I had ever lived through. Not only was it a good-bye to Courtney, but it had also brought back memories of Tilly's and Gigi's funerals, when I'd felt so lost and empty. And to top it off, my friends and I had learned that we were drugged and framed for murder. Yeah, “difficult” didn't quite cut it.

“It was awful, but I'm all right.”

“Hmm, lie.”

I stopped and turned to him. “It's not a complete lie, Kyle. Right now I'm doing OK.”

“You're focused on the manhunt. When the killer's found, you'll fall apart.”

I kept quiet. Kyle knew me so well and had since we were kids. He was always the friend who'd given me the emotional support I needed.

“You know, I'm worried about that, Kenzie. I couldn't stand seeing you the way you were after Tilly and Gigi ever again.”

Chewing my bottom lip, I considered what he'd said. I had been a mess when they'd died—a big one. I didn't eat for almost a week and barely got out of bed. It was so hard to accept that I would never see them again or receive a text gushing about the latest episode of
The Vampire Diaries
, yelling about a favorite character being killed off in
The Walking Dead
, or demanding we go to Nando's for dinner. It still was. Sometimes I'll watch something, and my first thought is to text all four of the girls. The truth was, I worried about it too. Even after all this time, I still felt raw over the feeling of complete helplessness. Maybe if I could have moved, I could have done something to help. I'd not felt so useless again until we'd found Courtney and Josh.

“I'll be OK. I have you, Megan, and Aaron.” And Blake. Sort of. I think. The list of people I could count on was getting smaller and smaller.

“You'll always have us.” He held his arms out, and I practically collapsed into them. Gripping hold of his waist, I held on for dear life. It was just us four now, and we had to stick together. “I'm so sorry, Mackenzie.” His body shook as if he was crying, but he made no sound. Kyle was always so strong for me, lying with me until I fell asleep when Tilly and Gigi died, researching the best grief counselors in our area when I couldn't cope, and staying up all night to help me study for an exam. He needed to be able to let it out sometimes too.

“Shh, it's not your fault. We're gonna be OK,” I murmured into his shoulder, praying that I was right.

“We're going to be OK” was one of the most overused phrases, but also one of the truest. No matter what had happened, how deeply something hurt you, the world continued to spin, and you would continue to breathe. Things might be awful for a while—sometimes a long while—but eventually, you would be able to function again. I just wasn't sure if I had the patience or energy to wait for that time.

Kyle pulled away and took a deep breath. “We should get back to painting. I think it'll take two coats.”

I nodded with a small smile and picked up the brush again. “Kyle, do you honestly believe Blake killed them?”

His arm moved up and down as he stroked the paint onto his wall. It took him a long time to reply. “Look, Kenz, I know you want to believe someone broke in, and I do too, but that didn't happen. We know that for a fact, so yes, I believe it was Blake. We don't know him, and I'd much rather believe it was a stranger than someone I've known over half my life. I get that you want it to be someone else, but I don't think it can be.”

It had to be someone else. I didn't sleep with a murderer. But how could I deny the facts? No, I could deny Blake's involvement in their deaths because he was innocent. I had to believe that. I
had
to.

“Did it ever cross your mind that it could be me?” I asked, holding my breath. If he said yes, it'd crush me.

Kyle laughed. “You're kidding, right? Mackenzie, you make me take spiders outside because you won't have them killed. No, I never thought it's you.”

I exhaled a huge sigh of relief.

His eyebrows arched. “You think it could be me?”

“No,” I replied. “I don't think it's any of you.”

“You have a thing for Blake,” he said. It was a statement and not a question.

A thing. Sure, I cared about him as a human being. I refused to believe he could kill his brother, so suddenly that meant I had a thing for him? None of the others knew that Blake and I had slept together, and I hadn't realized our feelings were obvious. We'd had sex, and Blake had made me feel things that were new and frightening. I didn't sleep around. Being intimate with someone was special, and I'd let Blake in
way
too soon…though it didn't feel too soon at all. That scared me. The way my body reacted when he was around scared me. But I couldn't tell Kyle any of that. Not one of my friends would ever believe the killer was one of us over Blake. And there was no way I was telling my friends that I slept with a guy the same day I'd met him, because that would surely get back to my parents. My town was tiny, and there wasn't a lot you could get away with.

Realizing I'd been quiet for some time, I sputtered, “I-I don't. Kyle, I barely know the guy.”

“You defend him blindly.”

“It's not blindly.”

“Yes, it is. You said yourself you don't know him well. You're defending a guy that, for all you know, could be a killer. I'd call that blind.”

“He couldn't have done it,” I snapped.

“Why not?”

Closing my eyes, I let the words spill out. “Because he was with me all night.”

Kyle stilled. “What?”

“Don't judge. He woke me up in the middle of the night and one thing led to another. We went upstairs. Josh and Courtney were nowhere to be seen, so they must've been upstairs too.”

“Upstairs? Mackenzie, they never made it upstairs!”

I shook my head. “No, I would've known if they were already dead.”

“How? You couldn't see through to the kitchen from the sofa. Oh my God.” He ran his hand over his face. “Surely you can see what happened? Blake killed them and then woke you so you could be his alibi.”

“No…Kyle, no, that's not what happened.” I stumbled back a step and pressed my lips together. That wasn't true. Blake wouldn't take advantage of me like that… Would he? “You can't honestly believe that.”

“What other explanation do you have?”

“Anyone could've woken up at any point and killed them.”

“That's true, but none of us would have done it.”

I sighed with frustration. “Can we not talk about this, please? Let's just get your room done.”

Kyle pursed his lips, considering my request. He looked to the floor and then back at me. “Sure.” Knowing Kyle, he probably wanted to lecture me until I came around to his way of thinking—or have Aaron guard me and keep me away from Blake.

“Thanks.” I didn't want to argue with him, not my sweet Kyle. Not the guy who bought me my favorite junk food when I was feeling down and watched chick flicks without complaint—well, much complaint—just because I wanted to. “Have you spoken to Aaron or Megan today? I tried Megan earlier, but it went straight through to voice mail.”

“Aaron's at her place. Her grandparents came home from Italy to make sure she was OK, probably why she didn't answer.”

I nodded and made a mental note to go and see her in the morning. If Aaron was already with her, she wouldn't need me too, and I didn't want to intrude if her extended family was over.

“So do you really think the killer could be Tilly's dad?” I asked as we worked side by side. Lawrence had said some threatening things. But then, so had Aaron. He'd threatened to kill Josh. It was all talk in the heat of the moment, but if we took Lawrence's threat seriously, then shouldn't we treat Aaron's with the same seriousness?

Kyle lifted his shoulder and let it drop. “Maybe. If he had the opportunity to kill us without repercussion, I think he would have. He desperately wants someone to blame for Tilly's death, and you can't blame the poor bastard for that.”

“I know, but to kill someone over an accident? I can't get my head around it,” I replied.

“People justify their actions to themselves all the time. I can buy a shirt because it's thirty percent off or just one more drink will be OK because I've eaten a big dinner.”

“I'll kill this person because they deserve it?”

He shrugged with the same shoulder again. “I guess.”

“That's stupid!”

“Kenz, I'm not saying it's right or the sane thing to do, but people use their own logic to justify all kinds of decisions. Our other option is Blake, but I know how you feel, so let's not argue over him.”

It took us four and a half hours to paint Kyle's room twice. My arm ached—
everything
ached—and I felt like collapsing. “Shit. It's
really
green,” Kyle said, looking at the bright walls with wide eyes.

“Yep,” I replied. “I'm not painting it again for at least three months, so you'll have to live with it or repaint it yourself.”

He grinned. “Deal. Hopefully it won't look like I'm living in some animated, Disney forest when the furniture is back.”

“Doubt it, but let's see,” I teased him. It felt so good to joke around after all of the crying for Courtney and Josh.

We uncovered his furniture and pushed it all back into place once the walls were dry enough. Thankfully, with the furniture, his room didn't look quite so bright, but I still wouldn't have slept there.

“I hate to say I told you so…” I said.

He smirked and nudged my shoulder with his own. “No, you don't. I wanted a change, and I got one. I can deal for a while.”

“Maybe we can paint three of the walls white or something? That'll tone it down.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“OK, let's get the rest of your stuff put away, and then you're making me some food.” Kyle still had football trophies, posters, and a few shoe boxes of stuff left in the middle of the room.

I bent down to pick up one of the shoe boxes, and the side fell open, spilling the contents onto the floor. “Damn it,” I muttered and knelt on the carpet to pick up the photographs that had scattered.

“Smooth,” Kyle said, dropping down to help.

One photograph caught my eye, and my heart fell into my stomach. “Kyle, what's this?” I whispered in shock, holding up that photograph.

His mouth popped open to form a perfect
O
. Panic surged through his eyes, but he quickly recovered. “Just a picture from years ago.”

I looked back at the selfie of Kyle kissing Courtney and frowned. Court's hair was a fierce red, brighter than the hair dye she usually used, because the store hadn't had her usual. I remembered it clearly, because I was the one who had dyed it for her—for the last time, it seemed—just before Easter, three months ago. This photo was recent. “Kyle, this must have been taken in April. Courtney's hair,” I said, explaining that I knew he was lying. “What the hell was going on between you two?”

Kyle and I stared at each other, both silently challenging the other. Kyle sighed and closed his eyes. He kept his eyes shut as he very quietly confessed, “We were together.”

“Together? You two were together? When? How? I don't get it…”

He cleared his throat and his forehead creased. “Behind Josh's back. In secret. Having an affair. Get it now?”

My shoulders slumped. All the air left my lungs in one big rush. How much did I not know about my best friends? “Shit, what the bloody hell were you thinking? Why didn't Court tell me? Why didn't
you
tell me?”

“Really, Mackenzie?” he muttered dryly.

“Look, Kyle. Court and I have known each other since we were seven, and I would have preferred to see her with you than with Josh.”