Thirty-Two

Megan slid into the truck. She had no choice. He had a gun and she had nothing. Her phone was still in her hand. She pressed the home button and tried without seeing the screen to activate the emergency call. It didn’t work—she needed to get past security.

“Keys.”

Megan handed Xavier the keys. He took them with a gentleness that surprised her.

“Lock your door.” Xavier didn’t bother with his seat belt. He started the truck and backed out of the spot.

“Where are we going?”

“Back to where it all began.”

Xavier glanced at her. Megan saw darkly shadowed eyes and pale skin. His normal insouciance seemed to be replaced with a malicious sense of resignation. She felt like he didn’t want to be here, but he was, and he was too far gone to turn back.

Megan tried to manipulate her phone, which was in her right hand under the umbrella she’d been holding. “I thought for sure it was Barbara.”

“Yeah, well, you thought right.”

Surprised, Megan said, “She killed Chase?”

“And Martine.” He stared straight ahead, hands gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled fervor. “And now maybe you.”

“Why are you helping her?”

It was Xavier’s turn to look surprised. “She’s my friend.”

Megan joked with Denver about having the kind of friend who would help you hide the bodies. She never meant it. Apparently, this group did.

“Seems above and beyond the call of friendship.”

“It was my fault to begin with.”

“How so?” Megan had used the thumb pad to get into her phone. She pictured the icons on the screen and tapped where she hoped the phone icon would be. She kept tapping, hoping like hell she was calling 911 or Denver or Clover—any of the useful numbers she’d called in the last twenty-four hours. The motel manager, for instance, would be useless.

“I tipped Chase off to the opportunity with Morey.”

“Morey?”

“Moreyville Pharma Corp. The pharmaceutical company he was supposed to meet with to pitch his new idea. The idea no one knew he had. Except Barbara and Martine.”

Megan considered this new information. “An idea for a new drug?”

“Right. Our agreements with BOLD prevent us from using anything we learn at BOLD elsewhere. Standard noncompete. They don’t prevent us from leaving and developing a brand new drug elsewhere.” Xavier put on the turn signal and made a left. “Pain management. That was Chase’s newest passion. Something to relieve things like arthritis pain without the side effects other drugs have had. Had he stayed and developed the drug at BOLD, it could have salvaged the company.”

“And your stock options.” Megan shifted in her seat, moving her hand under the umbrella. “Had Chase not shared his new idea with anyone, he could have left and no one had been the wiser.”

Xavier nodded. “I told him Morey was recruiting, thinking we could go as a team if the FDA bailed on our latest drug. I didn’t know about this new project. In a moment of weakness, he shared his idea with Barbara. Neither of us realized just how bad things were for her. We’re her friends. We should have known.”

Xavier pulled along Mulberry Street, which led to Lyle Lake State Park.

Back to where it all started.

Xavier was talking with the relief of someone who’d been keeping things in for a long time. Megan wanted to glance down at her phone, but she couldn’t risk tipping him off. She hoped like hell she had called someone. She needed to keep him talking. Once they were deep into the park, she’d have no recourse, and maybe no cell reception.

Megan said, “Barbara killed Chase to prevent him from leaving.”

Xavier’s look was sharp and full of reproach. “Barbara tried to reason with him. He wouldn’t listen. Things got out of hand. She didn’t mean to hurt him.”

“She let a young boy take the blame.”

“She let the chips fall where they may. This has been hell for her. Chase was her friend.”

Megan didn’t argue. His moral reasoning seemed so flawed, but she was afraid to incite him further.

“Where are we going?”

Xavier didn’t answer. He pulled into the park entrance, past the self-service kiosk, and down a wooded drive. The rain had given way to a steady, steely drizzle.

Megan thought about the truck. What tools were inside? A flashlight. The umbrella she was still holding. There was a utility knife in the glove compartment. A dog leash. She knew this park better than they did. If she could get out and run, she might be okay.

After what felt like miles, Xavier pulled into a small clearing along the drive. He shoved the truck into four-wheel drive and drove over the grass, onto an old logging path. He stopped when the truck was hidden in the trees.

“Get out.”

Megan pretended to fumble while climbing out of the truck. She managed to stick her phone in the pocket of her jeans. Frantically she searched for something, anything, she could grab, but Xavier was pulling on her arm.

“Now.”

Megan obeyed. Xavier pulled her another fifty feet, until they reached a small tent in the woods. It was a basic camping style tent, probably the one they had purchased for the Pioneer Village outing.

Xavier pushed Megan from behind. “Get in.” Megan refused, but Xavier placed the gun barrel against her back. “Now.”

Megan crawled inside the tent. Her heart was racing, her breathing came in ragged spurts. As scared as she was, she felt an odd sense of calm. These were Denver’s friends. Or had been. Perhaps in their twisted world that meant something.

It hadn’t meant anything for Chase. Or Martine. But it was an angle she could try.

The inside of the tent was dark. It took Megan a moment to realize they were alone. “Where’s Barbara?”

“She’s not here.”

“I don’t understand.”

“She’s coming. With a surprise. I thought between you and me, we could fix this.” He zippered up the tent.

“How exactly would we do that?”

“I’d like to count on your cooperation. For example, if someone close to the Winsome Chief of Police called and said she thought the boy was guilty, she could sway his thinking. And then if the police happened to search her barn, where perhaps the boy was hiding out, and found a bloody remnant from Martine’s house, that could also sway the police.”

With dawning horror, Megan said, “You were the ones in my barn! You planted the wrapper and the comic book so we’d think Dillon had been there.”

Xavier’s smile was one of sadness rather than triumph. “What a god-awful mess this has become. I think we all just want it to be over.” He clapped one hand against his thigh while holding the gun toward Megan. “We just need the police to believe the boy did it. He’ll be admitted to a psychiatric hospital for life, somewhere he should probably be anyway.” His eyes took on a menacing quality. “And if you should ever come forward…Denver, your grandmother…I think we’ve proven ourselves capable of extreme measures.”

Megan heard the distant sounds of an engine. She hoped it was the police and that somehow her phone had connected to help. Her hopes were dashed when Xavier smiled, head cocked toward the sound.

“There she is now.”

“You’re supposed to be Denver’s friend.” Megan nearly spat out the words. “What kind of friend does this?”

“Denver left us years ago. He had the chance to go in with us. He chose a different path.”

There was a commotion outside the tent. With one eye on her and the gun still cocked, Xavier unzipped the opening. Barbara crawled through, but she wasn’t alone.