Page 57 of The Last to Vanish
He kissed me, hard and fast, as if it were the last time, and it probably was. And I remembered that I had loved him, once. As much as I loved this place, and myself within it.
HERE WAS SOMETHING THATno one knew, not even Cory. According to Trey, Landon West used his phone to record his notes. And now, I had it.
As soon as Cory was gone, I plugged his phone into my charger and waited. When it finally came back to life, a password code popped up on the screen, and I stared at it, stuck. Until remembering what Trey had told me when we’d opened the file on the flash drive. The pass code he’d used for everything since he was little. I tried it now—9-8-7-6—and, suddenly, I was in.
IN THE VOICE MEMOapp, there had been a folder markedCP. And in it was a list of five saved recordings. They were labeled automatically by date, and the first was recorded the day after his arrival at the inn.
Okay, I’m ready, Georgia’s voice echoed through the apartment as soon I pressed “play” on the memo labeledInterview 1.I scrambled to turn down the volume.
No name, right?she added after a brief pause.
I promise I won’t use it.Landon’s voice caused the goose bumps to rise across my arms, the back of my neck. Like he was right here with me.
Like I could stop him this time.
Let’s start at the beginning. Where did you find the camera?
Here.Her answer sent a chill up my spine.
In the inn?
No, some guests brought it back from a hike. It was in one of those weather-resistant cases, but it looked like it had been dragged around by an animal. They said they found it exploring the section beyond the falls and wondered if it belonged to another guest.
Did you know it belonged to Farrah Jordan?
No, I didn’t know whose it was. I took it from them and said I’d look into it. There was no identification, so I pulled out the photo card to see if I could figure out who it belonged to so I could get it back to them.
And?
And, there was the date. The date listed in the pictures. That’s how I knew. We close the inn for two weeks in January. I knew that she was last seen during that time period a few years before, at the trailhead. That’s how I knew it was her camera.
Did you tell anyone?
No, definitely not.A pause.Look, you’ve seen the time stamps, right? The first pictures, blurry, in the snow, those were taken hours before the rest.
I don’t follow.
She sighed a long familiar sigh.I think something happened, during those pictures. It looks like she’s struggling. Or falling.The silence stretched, then there was the sound of something shifting, and I imagined her pushing the hair off her forehead, looking to the side. She lowered her voice, and I could hear the waver in it.I think someone else took the rest of those pictures.
Fabric rustling, like Landon was shifting positions.You didn’t tell anyone here. A statement, but also a question.
No, I didn’t know… I didn’t know what to do with it. And then I thought of you. My dad used to save your articles, ever since you interned for him in college.
It was quite the surprise to get a call from you at my parents’ place over the holidays.
A nervous laugh.Yeah, well, I knew how to reach them. Hoped that’s where you’d be.
And then the recording stopped.
I looked over my shoulder, at my closed apartment door, imagined Georgia just feet away down the hall. I was struck by her words: that she didn’t think Farrah had taken those photos. Andwasn’t that what had nagged at me, too? They didn’t look like Farrah’s typical shots, because they weren’t.
I hadn’t checked the time stamps of the earlier photos, but I knew the sheriff must have. Did he see the same thing she did?A struggle; something happening. A time lapse. Something changed.Or did it all depend on what you wanted to see?
She was right, about the photos not seeming like Farrah’s. And now I believed she was right about all of it. That this camera was showing not where she had been, but what had happened to her.
But that realization paled in comparison with the next: She’d found Farrah’s camera and contacted Landon West instead of telling us. Georgia hadn’t told me, hadn’t asked me about it—as if she didn’t fully trust me. Or trust that I didn’t have something to do with it.
I moved on toInterview 2, wondering who else Landon had convinced to talk—and how. For so long, this town had remained silent and closed off to outsiders. They’d presented a united, impenetrable front.
