Chapter 4

“They were all dead,” Cora said. “Everyone but me.”

Nothing I could say would ease the pain she’d experienced then and was still experiencing now, so I said the only thing I could think to say: “I’m sorry.”

Sorry didn’t fix things.

Sorry couldn’t change the past.

Sorry couldn’t ease her pain.

But it let her know I cared about what she’d been through.

“I still have nightmares about what happened that night,” Cora said. “I see Jackson, and Brynn, and Aubree. My nightmares are so vivid. They take me back to that night, and I find myself reliving what happened all over again.”

I crossed my arms, thinking about what it must have been like for her that night. Terrified, lying on the ground, wondering if the killer was still lurking around somewhere, waiting for the opportunity to strike again.

“What did you do after you found Aubree and Brynn?” I asked.

“I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the sharpest knife I could find. Then I called my parents. As I explained what happened, my mom became frantic. I couldn’t even understand what she was saying at first. She put my dad on the phone, and he told me my grandmother kept a pistol in the bottom drawer of her nightstand. He told me to get it and to lock myself in my grandmother’s room, because it was the only room in the cabin with a deadbolt.”

“Did you do it?”

She nodded. “I never even knew my grandmother owned a gun until my father told me. I’d never liked guns, but I knew how to shoot.”

“How?”

“My family went camping a lot when I was in high school. My dad would save pop bottles for our trips, so we could use them for target practice. He knew I didn’t like guns, but he encouraged me to learn how they worked anyway.”

“How far was the cabin from your parents’ house?”

“About an hour. Waiting for my parents to show up was the longest hour of my life. I remember sitting on my grandmother’s bed with the gun pointed at the door, worried the killer would jiggle the door handle, break through the lock, and come for me a second time. But he never did. I figured he thought he’d killed us all.”

A fortunate misjudgment on his part that saved Cora’s life.

“If I remember right, your father called the police, and Harvey Kennison was the first to arrive at the cabin,” I said. “He was one of the detectives who worked on your case. He’s also my stepfather now, though I presume you know that.”

“I do. Yeah, he got there a lot faster than I thought he would, about ten minutes before my parents. When he got the call about what was happening, he was closer to the cabin than they were.”

“Did he wait for backup before he entered the cabin?”

“I don’t think so. I remember hearing a door slam downstairs, and then a man started shouting my name. He said he was a detective with the San Luis Obispo Police Department. I remember hearing his footsteps as he walked up the stairs, and then he approached the door and knocked on it. He asked if I was inside the bedroom and if I was all right.”

“What did you say?”

“I didn’t respond at first. How was I supposed to know if he was who he said he was or if he was someone else? He let me know my parents were on their way along with some of his fellow officers. He said it was okay for me to open the door, but first I asked him to slide his badge under the door so I could prove he was telling the truth.”

“Did you let Harvey in after he verified his identity?” I asked.

“I did. I threw my hands around him and started sobbing. It was the first time I allowed myself to believe I was going to make it out of there alive.”

Cora closed her eyes, taking a deep breath in.

“Thank you for explaining all of this to me,” I said. “I know it’s not easy to talk about such a painful memory.”

“It’s not, but I know how important it is for you to have every detail I can remember.”

Indeed.

“Who owns the cabin now?” I asked.

“It’s still in the family … except we haven’t been back there since the murders happened.”

“Any idea where I can get my hands on a key?”

“I’m sure my parents have one somewhere. I’ll make a copy and get it to you right away.”

“Harvey has mentioned your case to me a few times over the years. He’s always regretted not solving the murders before he retired.”

“My mother told me he still stops by their house every once in a while to ask how I’m doing. It means a lot to me.”

“Yeah, he’s one of the good ones.”

I tapped my pen to the desk, thinking. “Who all knew about your plan to go to the cabin that summer weekend?”

“No one except the six of us, as far as I know. We made a group decision not to tell any of our other friends at school because we didn’t want anyone to be upset that they weren’t invited. Plus, we worried if we told anyone, our parents might find out we lied to them.”

“Why did you lie to your parents?”

“Our parents didn’t know the boys would be joining us for the weekend. They would have never agreed to it otherwise.”

“Did any of you talk about the cabin trip in a public setting, somewhere people could overhear?”

“I didn’t, but I don’t know about the rest of our group.”

Word about their plans had leaked somehow.

“You mentioned the person who attacked you was a man,” I said. “I know it was dark, but is there anything you can remember about him? Approximate age, height, or any other relevant details?”

Cora considered the question for a moment. “I don’t know. I never saw his face. He was wearing something over his head. Like a knitted hat, and the eye holes had been cut out.”

“If you didn’t see his face, how can you be sure it was a man who attacked all of you and not a woman?”

Cora tapped a finger to the top of the desk. “He was tall … and big.”

“When you say big?—”

“I don’t mean overweight. He was more muscular than flabby.”

“Have you considered the man who attacked you may have been one of your classmates?”

“The police asked me the same question. I sorta felt like it was an older man? But I don’t know for sure. I wish I did. I sat through so many interviews the first year after it happened, trying to remember anything I could to help them catch the guy. In the end, it didn’t matter. Nothing I said made a difference.”

Given her age at the time, it could have been easy for her to assume the man was much older. But she hadn’t seen his face. And even though she had a faint memory of him speaking to her, she couldn’t recall what he’d said. He could have been anyone.

“Could you make me a list of any classmates the six of you may have had a problem with back then?”

Cora leaned back in her chair. “It’s been a long time. I’m not sure I can remember, but I’ll try.”

“Do you have a yearbook from your senior year of high school?”

“I think so. There are a few boxes of my things in my parents’ garage. I’ll go through them and see if I can find it.”

“If you do, I’d like you to flip through it tonight, see if you can jog your memory. Make me a list of anyone you think I should talk to from your school days.”

“All right. Anything else?”

I thought about what other things I might want to ask before I cut her loose.

“One more thing. I’d like to know where everyone was located when they were attacked,” I said. “I know Aubree and Brynn were inside the cabin, and Jackson was outside, not far from where you were. Where were Owen and Aidan found?”

“The police found Owen around the side of the cabin. Aidan wasn’t far from where I found Jackson. If I would have walked a bit farther, I would have seen him too.”

“You were all attacked in the same manner … blunt-force trauma, right?”

Cora sniffled and nodded, wiping a tear from her eye.

“The man who did this needs to be found this time,” she said. “Being back in town takes me back to that night. In some ways, it feels like it all happened yesterday. I don’t think I can handle dragging this all up again if there’s not a different result.”

I leaned forward and took her hand in mine, looking her straight in the eye as I said, “I’ll make you a promise, right here and now. I’ll give this case everything I’ve got. I won’t stop looking until I find him.”