Page 76 of The Last to Vanish
“Abby!” he repeated, louder this time, just on the other side of the door. I thought of the guests, the inn, all the things in my charge, that I was supposed to keep safe.
“I’m here,” I said behind the safety of a locked door and thick walls meant for structure and protection. I needed to keep him in one place, hope Rochelle got my message, got the sheriff—
But then I heard the familiar click of the lock disengaging, the door opening, and I saw the shadow of him for a brief second before the door fell shut again.
We stood, mere feet away, in total darkness.
Of course he’d had a way in here. Of course he could come and go as wanted, for who knew how long.
“I think someone’s been out there,” Harris said, voice low, as if he hadn’t followed me into the basement in the dark.
And I thought:You, you’ve been out there. The first day Trey arrived in town, Harris was working downtown where the news had begun to spread, and it was all my fault. He knew. Someone was looking. Families, digging long after everyone else. Driven by something deeper.
I remembered what Celeste had said, what my father had done when faced with his killer, to try to humanize himself. To humanize all of us. “Does your wife know you’re here, Harris? I just talked to her on the phone,” I said, taking another step down.
“You did what?” he asked. He didn’t move. I’d caught him off guard.
“Your number came up in a list of people who were friends with Alice Kelly,” I continued. “I didn’t realize you knew her, Harris.”
“It was a long time ago, Abby,” he said as if this could still be salvaged. As if he could talk his way out of it, even though he’d cut the lines, the lights, and used a key he shouldn’t have to come afterme. “What did you talk to her sister about?” he asked, like he was covering his bases, finding out how many people knew, how far gone this was.
He started moving again, a slow shuffling down the stairs—less sure of himself in the dark than I was.
“Just some old pictures,” I said. “You were in them, you know. And about how you met Alice. In a photography class.”
His footsteps continued down the stairs as I slipped around the corner, hand on the wall, thinking of options: my apartment; the back exit. Holding that poker in my grip. Feeling the safety of it, but only in theory.
“It’s okay,” I said as I kept moving away, slowly. I had learned something, living in Cutter’s Pass. You couldn’t keep your secrets if you wanted someone else’s. You had to trade them all. It was only fair. “I keep secrets, too, Harris. Did you know I saw Farrah? Did you know she told me that she met Alice once? I’m guessing she knew you, too.”
“You didn’t tell the police?” His voice had shifted—he was closer now. Down in this long hallway, with me.
“No,” I said, my hand brushing against my apartment door. Did I have time to get inside and lock it? And then what? Thenwhere? I was only trapping myself, hoping he didn’t have another way in. “I didn’t say I saw her at all.”
“Why not?” he asked.
I thought of Celeste, the way I’d let her guide me. “Because someone told me not to.”
He laughed, one loud bark, echoing off the walls. “This place,” he said. “This fucking place.”
“I know,” I said.
“I didn’t want to come back here,” he said.
But I thought I understood. Alice. He had to. “I know youwere on that hike, with Alice.” It didn’t matter what I knew, now. Only how I connected with him. He was going to harm me if I gave him the chance. I needed to keep him talking. Make my way to the exit, get a head start—
“She disappeared from Cutter’s Pass. From the Last Stop,” he said.
Except, not really. “No, she didn’t. I know she never made it out of the woods. Corylied, which I doubt will come as a surprise to you.”
The silence stretched, and I thought he wouldn’t respond. But then he did. “It was an accident. I promise, it was an accident.” He was whispering, and he was so close, I knew if I reached out a hand, I’d be touching him. That he could reach out and grab me before I had time to get away. My options were running out. What I needed was time. More distance. My hand brushed against the first storage closet now. If I turned to run, he could catch me, and who would even notice? How long until someone came looking? Would I become just one more name in a list of people who had vanished here?
Another step, the second storage unit—so close now.
“I just wanted to talk to her, but she got spooked,” he continued. “I just wanted totalk, and she started running. She tripped, hit her head.” His breath caught. “I panicked. Abby, I panicked. Brought her down the trail, and I swear I didn’t know what I was going to do. But I got out of the woods late that night, and there was Vincent’s truck, just parked there. His keys in the visor.” No one here was afraid of any of the things we should be. “Like it wasn’t even my idea.”
Like it was this place. Always this place, making people do things. Everything outside our control.
“Where did you bring her?”
