She repositions herself to try to get a glimpse between the seats, but with the storm clouds hanging low in the sky outside it’s beginning to get dark and even after switching on the overhead light, she still can’t see anything in the space.

  A shadow casts over her in the dim light and her whole body freezes as a loud knocking fills the small confines of her car. She whips her head around and sees a man looming outside the window, shadows hiding his face.

  Elle is suddenly hyper-aware of the fact she’s a relatively small woman alone in her car on a dark, quiet road. Currently without the use of her phone.

  He knocks again, this time harder.

  Despite her instincts screaming at her to lock the car doors and ignore this man, her manners get the better of her and she rolls down the window and finds herself blinking up into a familiar face.

  “Oh, thank God, it’s you!” Elle’s shoulders sag in relief. “I was worried some psycho murderer was knocking at my window.”

  He laughs. “Got a flat, huh?”

  “Yeah, I was about to call Justin to come out and help, but I’ve lost my phone to the void.” She shoots a thumb towards the gap.

  “I wouldn’t bother anyway.” He shields his face against the pelting drops with the sleeve of his jacket. “Rain’s coming down too heavy. I just heard on the radio there’s a storm moving in. You’d best leave it until it dies down.”

  The good news just keeps on coming. Elle sighs and throws her head back against the headrest, at a loss what to do.

  He rests his arms on the edge of the car window and leans in closer, his face illuminated by the light inside. “Where are you going? I can give you a lift.”

  40

  MORY

  When I left the house this morning, I told Mom that Hutch and I were meeting up in town to get frozen yogurt. A nice innocent date.

  There was no way I was going to tell her the truth, because if she found out I was in a car headed for a romantic daybreak at a vacation home right now she would probably lose her mind and lock me up in a tower, never to be seen again. Okay, she’s not that bad, but I know for sure that she wouldn’t approve of this little getaway. I look over at his blond hair rustling in the breeze from the open window—golden curls fluttering around his neck. He has one hand on the wheel and is holding my hand with the other.

  “When will we get there?” I ask.

  We’ve been driving for thirty minutes and I just want to get to his parents’ vacation home already so we can have as much of the afternoon together there as possible before I have to get back home. When he collected me from our meeting spot by the waterfall he’d gotten out of the car and walked around to open the passenger side door for me. He’s always like that. A perfect gentleman.

  “Not long now.” He shoots a smile my way and my heart does a little flip.

  I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous. This is going to be a huge jump forward in our relationship and also for me personally. I don’t think I’m being too presumptuous that he asked to bring me out to his family’s vacation home so we could have a private and comfortable place to make love for the first time. I mean, he’s not said it explicitly, but what guy wouldn’t want to do it after months of only holding hands and kissing. I know I’m ready, so it would be kind of weird if he wasn’t.

  I’m probably way overthinking this. I’ve just got to relax and go with the flow. Whatever happens today, it will just be nice to spend some time together, away from everyone else.

  We drive by an abandoned old farmhouse, a tangle of weeds growing up its broken walls as though claiming it as their own. Soon the road narrows and trees close over us, a tunnel of green either side. I’m glad to be leaving the small town of Lonerock behind, even if only for the day. There’s been a lot of weird stuff going on there recently that’s making me feel uneasy. With Bernice Fisher being killed and my mom acting so strangely these past few weeks, obsessing over those photos of complete strangers and then getting so drunk last night that she could barely stand up, I just want a break from the stress of it all.

  And while ‘frozen yogurt’ with Hutch really would have been a nice break too, I can’t think of anything better than where I’m headed right now. I’ll bet this vacation house is pretty impressive. If their own house is anything to go by, the Parker family must be loaded. They also drive relatively new cars, nothing like Mom’s beat-up old car, which has so many dings that it looks like a golf ball. Hutch has told me before that his dad works really hard to maintain their lifestyle.

  “Are you okay?”

  All my thoughts disappear with a puff of smoke and I look over into his concerned eyes.

  “Uh-huh.” I nod. “I’m just really excited to get there and see the place.”

  “Me too.” He gives my hand a little squeeze with his before returning it to the steering wheel.

  It may be kind of a cliché and I might be building it up to a much bigger deal than it really is, but I just have this feeling that today is going to end up being one of those defining moments in my life. A day I’ll never forget.

  41

  RUBY

  Justin stares at the photo in his hands, an unreadable look on his face.

  A screech of joy blasts from the backyard where Cameron and Xavier are climbing the tree, a sound starkly at odds with the unbearable weight of tension inside my kitchen as I search Justin’s expression.

  “It’s her, isn’t it?” I ask quietly.

  Justin’s thumb moves with a heartbreaking tenderness over the face in the photo and I see his jaw clench. He doesn’t reply. He doesn’t need to. Elle’s name is right there, written clearly in black ink.

  “Where did you find this?” Justin asks, not looking up.

  “On my bed.” My stomach drops, recalling it.

  At this, Justin’s eyes flicker in disbelief to mine. “Your bed? What are you talking about?”

  “I… I don’t know how it got there,” I start, feeling the intensity of his eyes boring into mine. “I went up to the room to get a sweater and it was just there. Lying face up on my bed.”

  Gone are my plans to go help Felicity clean up, she’ll have to face the aftermath of her party alone. I need to be here for Justin right now, because nobody else will be. Everyone already thinks that he killed his wife all those years ago, and once word gets around about what I just found, it’s only going to add fuel to the flames. I may be the only person in this town who can see Justin for who he really is. And today, he is just a single father who has clung to the belief for the last eight years that the mother of his son had ended her life on her own terms. A belief now shattered, after seeing this photo.

  I don’t need to see it again. The image is already pressed so firmly into my memory that if I blink, I still see it. Elle is wearing a green dress that swamps her small frame. Her blonde hair hangs around her face like strings, wet clumps sticking to her cheeks as she bares her teeth in a grin. But there’s no happiness there, only fear. Just like the others. And I know now without any doubt that those girls—like Elle—are no longer alive. And I think that whoever left this photo on my bed this morning was the one who killed them.

  “It’s just like the others. Same camera, same place, same pose,” I say softly. “And someone left it there for me to find. I… I think it might be some kind of a warning.”

  Justin looks a little unsteady on his feet before he pulls out one of the chairs by the table and slumps down onto it. Pain is etched on every part of his face, but somehow he maintains his composure.

  I stare out the window at the boys for some time. They’re chasing a remote-control monster truck around the backyard. Xavier is laughing the carefree laugh of a boy untroubled. How long before that innocence is ripped from him? I can only hope he never sets eyes on this photo of his mother. I don’t think the image would ever leave him.

  “Who had access to your house last night?” Justin’s low voice cuts through my thoughts.

  “Nobody. I mean, I locked the doors before we left for Felicity’s party and there’s no sign of a break-in, I already checked. I hadn’t even stepped foot inside my bedroom until this morning, because I slept on the couch last night.”

  Justin narrows his eyes at me in confusion.

  “I was… a little drunk when I got home. I actually don’t even remember getting home,” I admit, my cheeks flushing. “I don’t think I would have even made it back if it weren’t for Bent—” I stop.

  “Benton? Benton Shepherd?” Justin stands up slowly, still holding the photo of Elle. “He came to the house?”

  “Well, yes. I mean, he walked me home. He was only being friendly. He didn’t stick around or anything. At least… I don’t think he did.” I suddenly feel queasy again, looking at Justin’s face.

  I can see the same thoughts are passing through his mind as mine. Benton was here at the house last night while I was passed out on the couch. He even left me a note telling me he’d looked around the place for aspirin. He could have left that photo in my bedroom. It all makes sense. Other than the owners, Benton was the only person who had a key to this house before I bought it. He must have been the one who left the photos hidden around my home. And now he’s left this one of Elle to intimidate me. A warning to stop sniffing around. I start to feel dizzy, thinking of what this all means. If there had been any doubt in my mind that the young women in the photographs were being held against their will, seeing this one of Elle has confirmed it. And with Elle having been missing for eight years now—so long that she’s been declared legally dead—it’s also clear she never escaped. Neither did those other girls.

  Benton must have been hiding these photos—these trophies of his—in this house to keep them safe. Did he really expect that they wouldn’t be found?

  I remember hassling him about the pictures at the party, and not for the first time, either. I phoned him about them, I brought them to his office, I even waved them around at the community meeting.

  I’d thought he brought me home last night out of a sense of neighborly duty, a good deed. But now I see he came here to leave me a warning to stop digging. A lump catches in my throat and I swallow it down.

  I bought my house from a serial killer.

  42

  RUBY

  I flip on the light switch as I walk into the kitchen and the room floods with a yellow hue. In the glass of the oven door I see my own tired, sallow face reflected back at me as I turn the dial.

  Justin is settling Cam and Xavier with a movie while I make a start on dinner. Well, that’s if frozen pizza counts as a dinner. I doubt either Justin or I will eat a bite, given the afternoon we’ve had. But there are still two growing boys to think of who need some kind of sustenance (or what little of which can be derived from pizza).

  The cops have come and gone, taking the photos with them and informing me their investigation will likely involve a search of the property, given this is where the photos were hidden. I didn’t hold back during their questioning on sharing my suspicions about Benton Shepherd. Although from the looks they gave me, I could tell they were doubtful. He’s got this whole town wrapped around his little finger. They think he’s the perfect gentleman. The perfect neighbor.

  Isn’t that what everyone says about serial killers? Or maybe those are just the ones we hear about.

  But it doesn’t matter how charming or kind or smooth-talking Benton is, the fear in Elle’s eyes in that photo was unmistakable. It’s clear that even if he used his charm to lure her in—by the time that photo was taken, it had well and truly worn off.

  I shudder as I think of the danger I put my kids in, letting Benton into our home last night. He could have done anything while I was passed out on the couch. He could have kidnapped Mory and I would have slept right through it. Thankfully it seems all he did was enter my bedroom and leave a photo for me to find. Benton Shepherd is a twisted man and I don’t think I’ll sleep a wink again until I know he’s locked up.

  When the cops left, I told Justin he should go home and get some rest and that Xavier could stay here for the night, but he refused. It’s hard to tell how he’s taking all this. He’s not the kind of guy to wear his emotions on his sleeve. But given that he’s spent the past eight years living under the assumption that his wife left this world voluntarily, it must be a major blow to learn that her life didn’t end on her own terms at all. She never abandoned him or Xavier. And if she hadn’t been killed, maybe she and Justin could have resolved their issues. Maybe she could have gotten the help she needed to get better and enjoy the incredible life that lay ahead of her.

  I can’t put myself in Justin’s position, I have no idea what he must be going through right now. All I know is that I’m going to be here for him and Xavier every step of the way, because the road is only going to get rougher. Until enough proof comes to light that Benton is behind Elle and all those other girls’ disappearances, Justin will be the number one suspect around town. Not that he wasn’t already.

  I’m just glad we managed to keep the boys from finding out why the police were here. They spent the whole afternoon playing in the sandpit outside with a tub of toy animals they picked up at the zoo this morning. And when they asked about the police car, we told them they were just here about Bernice again.

  I open up the freezer and debate how many pizzas I should put on. Mory hasn’t come home from her fro-yo date with Hutch yet but I suspect she’ll be hungry when she does.

  I tried calling her after the police left but it just rang out and I’ve only been getting through to her voicemail since then. Either her battery ran out or she’s purposefully ignoring my call, neither would surprise me. I can’t call Hutch because I don’t have his number. But it’s getting close to seven hours since Mory left for their date and I’m finding it hard to imagine they could still be hanging around town, even if they ended up catching a movie or going to the arcade. They’ve most likely gone back to his house to work on one of their robotics projects.

  I pull up Felicity’s number in my contacts, then hold the phone between my shoulder and ear as I take the pizzas out of their packages.

  “Hello?” A distracted voice answers on the third ring.

  “Hey, Felicity,” I chime, remembering immediately that I still owe her a huge apology. “I just wanted to call and let you know that I’m really sorry about last night. My behavior.”

  “Your behavior?” she asks.

  I’m suddenly thrown into doubt. Was it not as bad as I remember? Maybe I’m remembering my drunken shenanigans wrong. Maybe nobody noticed I was wasted after all.

  “Uh, yeah. I mean, I had a little too much to drink and I was worried that I might have…” I trail off.

  “Ruined the party?” Felicity finishes for me. “No. No. You didn’t ruin it.”

  I’m not convinced. There’s a faraway tone to her voice that has me concerned.

  “Well, anyway. I planned to come over this morning and help you clean up, but the day kind of got away from me.” To say the least.

  “Don’t worry about it, Ruby. Quinten stayed up last night to get the place cleaned up before he left for Bayfield this morning.”

  “That was good of him. The party was great by the way. It was so nice of Quinten to surprise you like that. You’re a lucky woman.”

  “Yeah,” Felicity says quietly.

  “Oh,” I say, remembering why I called. “Could you tell Mory that I’ve got dinner on? I’d tell her myself, but I can’t get through to her phone.”

  “I would,” Felicity replies. “But she’s not here, sorry.”

  This surprises me a little. “Oh, I kind of figured she and Hutch would have gotten back from their date by now. It’s been hours.”

  “Date? What date?”

  “They met for fro-yo in town this afternoon,” I explain. “But that was ages ago, and I think Mory’s phone ran out of battery. Maybe you could try calling Hutch to see where they are?”

  There’s silence for a moment before Felicity’s voice comes back over the line, quieter now. “I don’t need to phone Hutch, he’s right here in the next room. He hasn’t left the house all day.”

  43

  MORY

  When Quinten said vacation house, I guess I’d been imagining huge glass windows overlooking a pool shimmering in the sunlight.

  Well, that’s definitely not what this is. Actually, I don’t think it could be further from it. Although I think I might see a lake through the trees down the dirt road that leads from where we’re parked, but it’s hard to tell. Everything here is overgrown.

  “That took a lot longer than you said it would,” I say, stepping out of the car and evaluating the wooden structure in front of me.

  I wouldn’t mind, but I know Mom will be expecting me home at any point now. She already tried calling me a little while ago but I let it ring out. Then I turned my phone off and shoved it in the glove compartment for good measure. I figure I’ll just tell her my battery ran out and that I ended up meeting a friend in town and went back to her house. I’m seventeen. She doesn’t need to worry about me staying out all day.

  Quinten stretches out his legs and pushes back his dark blond hair. A single strand falls down before I move it back for him. He smiles and takes my hand in his.

  “You ready?” he says, leading me to a wooden door that’s so overgrown with ivy it’s hard to imagine it’ll open.

  “Your family actually vacation here?” I ask, trying to keep the judgment hidden from my voice.

  “Not anymore,” he says quietly. “I mean, my parents used to bring me here as a kid. But since my mother passed away and left it to me, it’s not in much shape for a vacation.”

  You could say that again. This place looks more like a storage shack than a vacation home. But as long as it’s clean and dry inside, I’m sure we can still make the most of our time here together.