She’ll rat me out.
Which wasn’t exactly a sudden revelation. I’d known it all along. Sort of. Even while she’d been telling me about her big plan to leave me out of the picture, I’d never quite believed she would carry out her end of it.
Maybe she’d thought she would.
Or maybe the whole business had been a lie to save her ass.
Well, something had saved her ass. I’m not sure what. Maybe a combination of things.
Such as a ton of luck. Plus the facts that she was beautiful and friendly and all that. And I knew it was only by a mistake of mine that she got dragged into this whole mess in the first place. Then I had to feel sorry for her because she’d gotten herself raped by Milo. Then I had to feel grateful because she kicked him in the head. Then she confused me with promises about never telling on me.
Those are probably some of the things that saved her, but maybe not all of them.
Who knows why stuff happens?
Not me, that’s for sure.
I’m interested, and I like to look for answers, but the answers don’t seem to be very simple and I’ve got a feeling that there’re secret forces at work. Genes, for instance. Or Fate. Or God. Or gremlins. Or certain stuff you don’t want to admit, not even to yourself. I mean, who the hell knows? Maybe we aren’t even supposed to know the real answers.
Maybe “the truth is out there,” like they say on the TV show, but that doesn’t mean we can ever find it out.
All I knew for sure was that I didn’t kill Judy, so now my life was in her hands.
It made me feel like a patsy. A softie. A dope.
But it made me feel good, too, somehow. I liked knowing that she was still alive back there at the camp. And that she was only alive because of me.
In a few hours, she would probably be back in her apartment.
Even if she couldn’t get out of the rope, somebody would be sure to find her soon.
Maybe not.
Though I knew Miller’s Woods pretty well (at least in daylight), I wasn’t exactly sure where the campsite was located. It might’ve been in a remote part of the woods, not close to any trails. I mean, if you’re going to do what Milo’d been doing to people, you’d make sure to set up camp where a bunch of nature lovers won’t stumble into it.
He must’ve had plenty of confidence in its remoteness, or he wouldn’t have built a fire. He’d not only built the fire, but he’d left it burning—and Judy dangling—while he went to bed in his tent.
That’s confidence.
Or stupidity.
He must’ve been awfully sure, too, that he’d tied Judy so well she didn’t stand a chance of getting loose.
What if she can’t get loose and she doesn’t get found?
She could die at the end of that rope.
That’d be fine, I told myself. If she dies that way, it won’t be my fault. Milo put her there, not me. But she’ll be just as dead, so she won’t be able to tell on me.
I wondered how long it would take her to die that way.
A few days?
Hell, somebody would probably find her before that. Or she’d work her way out of the rope.
I could go back and save her.
Yeah, right. In my condition, I’d be lucky to make it home. I sure couldn’t turn back, now, and go hunting for the camp.
Maybe tomorrow. Get some rest, and go looking in daylight.
1. Why would I want to?2. I probably couldn’t find the campsite again, even if I tried.3. If I did find it, the cops might be there waiting for me.
Maybe I’m a sentimental fool, but I’m not crazy.
Eventually, after trekking through the woods for at least an hour, I made my way into familiar territory. I’d really hoped that I might come out in Serena and Charlie’s back yard, but it didn’t work out that way. The familiar territory was only the creek.
But I sure was glad to find it.
I worked my way out to the middle of the creek (without falling!), sat down, leaned back, and let the wonderful, chilly water rush all over me. It felt so good it hurt.
I was in awful shape. I’d never been so worn out in my life, and I still had a long hike home. At least a mile through the woods. It made me almost cry, just thinking about it.
The night was still dark, though. I still had time. So I lay in the water with just my face out, and rested for a while. Soon, the water didn’t feel so cold. It seemed cozy and almost warm.
A nice bath. Gotta have a nice, long bath when I get home.
Then I thought about how to get there. I’d made the hike between home and the picnic area many times during my three years living above Serena and Charlie’s garage. Never in the dark, though. I’d always been afraid of the woods at night.
They even frightened me a little in daylight. Though I loved the solitude and quiet, I’d always been aware that someone might be lurking nearby, watching me, stalking me. Not that I’d ever discovered anyone doing that sort of thing. But I’d felt the potential. I’d even felt the urge, myself, to sneak around and spy on other people I found in the woods.
A few times, I’d surrendered to the urge.
But that’s another story.
The deal is, I knew how to get home from the picnic area by hiking through the woods. But I wasn’t too sure about doing it at night. The trails got tricky in places. I might miss a turn-off and end up lost. There were slopes and ditches to contend with. I might take a bad fall. Or walk into a broken limb and skewer myself.
What about taking Judy’s car?
At first, the idea seemed incredibly idiotic. For one thing, somebody might see me driving it. For another, what would I do with her car afterward? Where would I leave it?
I’d be asking for trouble.
On the other hand, I had Judy’s keys in my pocket. Her car was waiting for me just up the slope from the creek and it could get me home in less than ten minutes.
Fantastic!
I’d park it in the garage, directly under my room, where it would be safely hidden. I could dispose of it later—tomorrow night, for instance.
I was awfully tempted.
It’d be so easy!
But it’d be so incriminating, too. What if I got caught with Judy’s car?
Then came a thought that changed everything.
If I leave it here, somebody might get suspicious and go looking for her.
That settled the matter.
With her car gone, no park personnel or random visitor or cop would start wondering who it belonged to. And if a friend or relative should report Judy missing tomorrow or the next day, her car wouldn’t be found in Miller’s Woods to give searchers a starting place.
I had to take it home.
Feeling fairly rested and revived and eager to get started, I stood up in the creek and waded ashore. Then I crouched in the bushes for a couple of minutes to make sure the coast was clear. I didn’t see or hear anyone. So I walked over to the picnic table, my shoes squelching with every step. At the table, I sat on the bench, took off my loafers, and dumped the water out of them.
I put one of them back on, then changed my mind.
They were Tony’s shoes. Evidence. I really didn’t need them anymore, since I planned to be driving home instead of walking. Also, disposing of them here and now would save me from having to deal with them later.