UNDER A FOREBODING sky, Rath sauntered out to the barn, carrying a pry bar and a hatchet. He would get the deer unstuck from the frozen ground. He’d be lucky to salvage any meat now. But his back felt good. His back felt grand. His back felt nothing. He realized in the last day that something was missing from his routine, and it had taken him a while to realize what. The pain. When he turned or bent or reached, he found himself flinching against a pain that never came. The pain was simply, miraculously, gone.
He felt liberated, ready to do now with ease what he’d been unable to do at all just two weeks before. It would take a while to get the deer unstuck, but he wanted to get a start on it before the snow came. The area was due for a storm, and snow was already swirling down from the ominous sky.
He stood over the deer. His cell buzzed.
He didn’t recognize the number.
“Yes,” Rath said, his voice ringing, matching his high spirits.
“Mr. Rath?” The person on the other end was winded, gasping.
“Yes,” Rath said.
“I’ve been trying to reach Rachel and keep getting her voice mail. And I left messages on your home machine, and—”
“Who is this?”
“Felix.”
“Who?”
“You met me on campus—Rachel’s boyfriend.”
“Right. I hardly ever use my landline and check messages even less. Why were you leaving messages for me?”
“I wasn’t; I was leaving them for Rachel.”
“Rachel’s not at the house.”
“Well then, where is she?”
Rath dropped the hatchet at his feet. “She’s not with you?”
“No.” Felix nearly shrieked. “She went home.”
“What are you talking about?” Rath stared out blankly at Ice Pond.
“She left a voice mail saying she wanted a few days alone. She hasn’t been to her dorm so . . . I thought, when I didn’t hear, I thought maybe I’d said or done something to make her mad. I’ve been calling and texting her cell and—”
“For how long?”
“Nearly three days.”
“You haven’t heard from her in three days?”
“I thought she was at home and wanted space.”
“Christ. Did you have a fight?”
“Not really.”
“What does that mean: not really?” Rath was shouting now, stalking back and forth across the barnyard, tapping the pry bar against his kneecap.
“She didn’t want to tell you until we got concrete proof. Something that could help.”
“Proof of what?”
“She went, well, undercover.”
“What are you talking about?”
“She went to those Family Matters meetings.”
“No,” Rath said. He went stiff as pain shrieked in his chest, as if he were stabbed. “No. She didn’t.”
“It was probably stupid. You don’t think her attending those meetings has anything to do with it, do you? Rachel’s disappearance?”
Rachel’s disappearance.