Chapter 14

When I got to Klikamuks State Park, Deputy Bobby was already there. He stood in the parking lot, arms folded across his chest, his face suggesting he was imagining fresh tortures (which he would, of course, call exercise). For someone who had planned on spending the day being hung over in bed, he looked…not terrible. I mean, if we were going with purely objective observations. His black hair was back in its perfect part. His face was clear. The burnished bronze of his eyes was, perhaps, a little bloodshot. But that might also have been because he was giving me a dirty look. He wore a lightweight rain jacket because of course he did. Meanwhile, I had no rain jacket and no umbrella. I was just proud I had on clean underwear.

When I got out of the Jeep, he said, “Where’s Indira?”

“She—”

“With her gun.”

I put my hands on my hips. “Okay, I feel like you’re taking that out of context.”

“Explain that to me. In fact, why don’t you explain every single terrible decision that led to this particular moment right now?”

“I’d love to do that, even though I’m not crazy about your tone. But, since time is short, I think you should call your boss and tell her you spotted me, since I’m pretty sure she’s looking for me and she’d be super mad if you didn’t, you know, tell her.”

His jaw actually sagged a little. In a strangled voice, he said, “What is wrong with you?”

“I’m a people-pleaser. I don’t know how to turn it off.”

As Deputy Bobby took out his phone, he said several things that suggested he was not, in fact, pleased with me. Quite the contrary, actually.

I waited until he was talking to Sheriff Acosta before I jogged toward the trailhead. I made it about halfway before I heard a furious, “Dash!”

I decided to go a little faster. Cole might get spooked if I didn’t have a chance to warn him I’d brought a friend.

The lot was mostly empty. There were a couple of Subarus parked at one end, and an old junker of a Chevy with a camper shell in the bed. There was also a dark Mercedes. I’d seen it before at the Gauthier-Meadowses’ house, and I was pretty sure it had halogen lights.

Even mid-afternoon, the day was gloomy and dark, and the weather seemed unable to settle. When the wind picked up, raindrops spattered my face. When the wind died, the air was chill and close and damp. The dirty tin underbelly of the clouds seemed lower and darker, and they scudded inland overhead. A storm was moving in.

It was darker under the trees, but I kept to an easy jog as I started up the path. In the distance, thunder rumbled. Ferns trembled when the wind picked up again, their fronds bending under the weight of scattered raindrops. The air had the sweetness of spruce mixed with other, more pungent smells: rot and mud and a whiff of something sickly sweet—overripe blackberries that had fallen and moldered on the ground. Klikamuks, the name of the park, was from the Chinook Wawa, and it meant blackberries. The bushes covered most of the park, which was a headland jutting out into the Pacific. I was glad when the salty storm air pushed back that sickly sweet smell, even if only for a moment.

Deputy Bobby caught up with me a few hundred yards from the first lookout. I heard his steps first—their heavy, familiar plod. And then the rhythm of his breath. We’d spent enough time out on trails; it couldn’t have been anybody but Deputy Bobby. He caught my arm when he got close enough and dragged me around to face him. His eyes were definitely bloodshot, but I hadn’t been wrong about the dirty look either. He gave me a tiny shake like he was beyond words.

“Cole didn’t want the sheriff involved,” I said. “He thinks the sheriff is trying to frame him.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I told you I was doing this because you’re my friend and because I’d like some help. And I know you’re a deputy, and you have responsibilities. But right now, Cole isn’t a suspect, is he?”

“He’s a person of interest.”

“Fine. But unless you’re going to arrest him, I want you to hang back and let me talk to him. He’s scared. On the phone, he sounded terrified, actually. Do you understand?”

Deputy Bobby stared at me. “Let me make sure I got this right: you want me to stay here so you can talk to him alone.”

“Yes.”

“Even though he might have killed two people.”

“Correct.”

It looked like Deputy Bobby struggled for a long moment. Probably tamping down his more murderous impulses. Finally, he said, “And you brought me out here because I’m your friend, but I’m not supposed to do anything except hang back and let him kill you.”

“Well, and avenge my death, of course. Plus—and I have to be honest, I’m a little disappointed—you usually bring an extra jacket for me.”

It was something in his face. Something almost like helplessness.

“Oh my God,” I said. “You did bring one? That’s so sweet. I knew I should have waited.”

His grip on my arm had turned into what us literary folks might have called clutching. As in, fingers biting in deep. Suggestive of strong feelings. Presumably because he was so happy he’d brought an extra jacket for me.

“I’ll be okay,” I said as I slipped free. “Trust me.”

His face communicated many things in the forest’s gloom. Trust was not one of them.

As I made my way up the trail, the sound of the rain thickened—the rapid drumming of droplets striking the canopy overhead. Leaves bent, branches bowed, and then the first strikes found the back of my neck as fog thickened into a drizzle. I shivered and pulled my hood up to keep my glasses clear. I could, of course, change my mind. I could call back to Deputy Bobby. He wouldn’t think less of me; if anything, he’d be thrilled that I’d come to my senses. But what about Cole? Would he run? Would he shut down? Would I lose this chance—maybe my last chance—at proving Hugo’s innocence?

WWWGD? What would Will Gower do? That was the real question. And I knew the answer. Whether Will Gower was a surly FBI agent or a recalcitrant private eye or a bookseller-turned-amateur sleuth, he’d take the risk.

I emerged from the trees onto the lookout point; the sound of the waves met me—hard, angry slaps against the headland’s bluffs. The sky was gray, and the light was gray. There were no shadows. Everything was shadows. Ferns gave way to blackberry brambles. Brambles gave way to scrubby grass. A wire fence ran a few feet in front of the edge of the cliff, a final precaution against the lip of ground suddenly giving way, which happened more often than you’d think. It looked like the Parks Department needed to get up here; one section of the fence was broken, and the wires bobbed in the storm winds.

I didn’t see Cole anywhere.

My eyes came back to the broken lengths of wire that seemed to levitate out over the drop. I thought I saw something there—something caught on the wire. The wind blew rain and sea mist into my face, speckling my glasses with water, and the spray felt icy against my exposed skin. It was enough to shock me out of that moment of paralysis. Cleaning my glasses, I crossed the lookout toward the broken section of fence. I put my glasses back on again, the wind at my back this time so I could see, and I glanced out over the edge. But I was still too far back from the edge, and the angle kept me from seeing the base of the bluff. I inched out past the fence, onto that thin lip of soil and tree roots. Closer to the edge. And then closer again. The wind screamed at my back. Below me, the base of the bluff came into view.

Cole looked small down there. He lay unmoving on a rocky stretch of beach. The tide was coming in, and even with the wind in my ear, the swell and crash of the waves dominated. When the swash rolled up to meet him, it looked for a moment like he was levitating too, like the broken wires.

“Dash!” Behind me, Deputy Bobby was coming across the lookout point. “Get back here!”

He was right, of course; Deputy Bobby was always right. But before I moved back toward safety, I grabbed one of the broken lengths of wire and pulled it to me. A piece of fabric was caught at the end, torn from a garment—a hoodie, I thought. And I’d seen the heart-shaped design of the letter. Seen the purple fabric before. P, I thought. For Penny.