The wind blew the litter off the sidewalks into the street sweeper’s bristling maw. Natalie followed the Lexus past the quaint three-story shops of downtown, where the clubs were always packed on the weekends. The ER would be busy pumping stomachs on Sunday. Upstate New York boasted enough Dunkin’ Donuts, Starbucks, and Burger Kings to satisfy anyone’s weekend hangover.
Now the Lexus turned down the road leading to the peninsula, and Natalie’s nerve endings hummed. The girls had flat-out lied to her—she had proof of it now. Riley’s phone logs showed he’d spent about thirty minutes in the vicinity of Berkley’s house that afternoon. What had transpired? What did they know?
She could see the glistening pewter surface of the lake through the tree trunks. This area teamed with lakes. During the warmer months, tourists flocked to Burning Lake to partake of the bountiful woods and waterways. For the rugged outdoorsy types, there were plenty of diversions and people were regularly getting injured or lost in the mountains. Emergency response came from a network of agencies—rangers, state police, local rescue crews, along with the county fire rescue team and the water rescue team—covering a vast geography of woodlands and wetlands, thick and rolling as a fairy-tale kingdom.
The silver car slowed as it approached the entrance to Abby’s Hex. Natalie kept her distance, while the girls got out and took the trailhead into the woods. She waited, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, before finally swinging into the lot and taking the sun-dappled path onto the peninsula.
Once she’d reached the tip of the peninsula, she hung back and observed them—India, Berkley, Sadie, and their new recruit, Angela Sandhill, a demure girl with a self-conscious theatricality about her movements. They’d formed a circle around the fire pit.
“It’s stupid to do everything in one night,” Berkley said.
“We’ve already decided,” India insisted. “We should stick to the plan.”
“Do you think it’ll work?” Angela asked.
“Of course it will work,” India shot back. “It’s worked before.”
Sadie made a disgusted sound at the back of her throat. “Will you stop already?”
“Angela, don’t be dumb,” Berkley said.
“Okay. Whatever.” Angela shrugged.
They began to chant. Softly, at first. Building slowly. Natalie didn’t recognize the divination. It had been such a long time since she’d performed any Wiccan rites herself. She noticed a burnt-rubber smell in the air before spotting a small plume of smoke in the fire pit.
She stepped out of the woods. “What are you girls up to?”
They turned at once and let out gasps of astonishment.
“Aunt Natalie?” India clasped her throat. “What are you doing here?”
“I have a few more questions,” she said, stepping into the clearing. “We’ve subpoenaed Riley’s phone service records and have him within three-hundred feet of Berkley’s house between four twenty-eight and five oh-two P.M.”
India shook her head numbly, while the others glanced cautiously at one another. Natalie knew not to let her personal relationships interfere with an investigation, but her instructors never told her how hard this would be. She wanted to embrace them and tell them that everything would be all right.
“Are you still saying you didn’t see him Wednesday after school, India?”
“No,” she responded with a shudder. “I mean, maybe he drove by the house, I suppose, but we didn’t see him. Maybe he parked on the street or something? I mean, ew. Dude. Go away.” She was intractable.
Natalie drew a patient breath. “Did Riley know that you put a curse on Ms. Buckner?”
“What?” she cried. “Who told you that?”
“Did you tell him about the B-minus you got in sociology? Did you tell him you wanted Ms. Buckner to suffer for it?”
She stared at Natalie with deep hostility.
“Did you talk him into harming her, or at least approach him about it?”
“Approach him? What’s that supposed to mean?” India shook her head, her long hair flowing across her shoulders in raven waves. “This is ridiculous.” She took out her phone. “My father told me to call him if this happened again.”
“Okay, fine. Call him.”
India hesitated.
“Go ahead,” Natalie said, calling her bluff.
India scowled. “Maybe you should go,” she suggested.
“No, you’re right, India. You don’t have to talk to me. You can all leave now.”
“But…”
“You aren’t supposed to be lighting fires in the state park.”
India’s eyes widened, while the other girls froze.
“Go. All of you.”
After a moment’s hesitation, they hurried past her and vanished into the woods.
Natalie stood studying the calm surface of the lake. Any time beachgoers or swimmers were reported missing, dozens of first responders and rescue vehicles would show up at the scene. The dive team, attached by ropes to the shore, would search the lake bottom, while the beach patrol linked hands with dozens of volunteers and waded into the reedy part of the lake. At some point, they may have to do that for Bunny.
The burnt smell lingered on the air. She walked up to the fire pit, where the girls had left several smoldering pieces of paper on the blackened stones. She stomped out the embers, smoke whispering from the charred pages.
She knelt to retrieve one of the pages and read a few lines. Her palms grew black with ash. Her cheeks flushed. She felt indignant and incredulous. What she read shocked her.