“This isn’t just about you. When you make a phone call, you put all of us at risk, including Bethany. What if some psycho follows up on Hunter Gellar’s girlfriend and pays her a visit?”
Hunter doesn’t respond.
“All I’m saying is we need to be careful. Let me talk to Agent Hensel about FaceTime. If the technology specialist working with his team says the app is difficult to hack, I’ll consider allowing it.”
“Sure you will.”
He pops the earbuds in and turns his head toward the window. Darcy wants to yank them out and finish their conversation, but this isn’t a fight she can win. Better to let him cool off and revisit this in an hour.
Leaving the bedroom is like leaping from the frying pan into the fire. The tension is palpable, a whip ready to snap. Downstairs, Laurie drags Darcy aside before she walks into a fight with Jennifer.
“Get it together, cousin. Put too many restrictions on kids and they rebel.”
“I’m well aware of that.”
“Hey, get your daughter out of the house before she goes stir crazy. There’s a path at the edge of the woods that connects with a beautiful trail. You’ll hit the falls in an hour.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
“It’s not a good idea, it’s a great idea. Exercise will put the color back in your cheeks.”
Darcy touches her face. Is she that pale?
“I haven’t been well. Probably caught a bug after all the sleepless nights.”
Laurie glances around to ensure Jennifer is out of earshot and lowers her voice. When she turns to Darcy, there’s a hard, no-nonsense look in Laurie’s eyes.
“You’re not fooling anyone, Darcy.”
“Fooling anyone? What are you talking about?”
“You were never this argumentative. Since you arrived, you jump at every shadow, your skin tone is all wrong, and you’re constantly irritable and bickering with the kids. So what is it? Barbiturates?”
“Oh, that’s rich. I’m not an addict.”
“Tell me what you’re on.”
Darcy huffs and turns toward the window.
“I’m on prescription anti-anxiety medication, okay? I have been for three years. Hate to break this to you, but getting stabbed in a dark house by a serial murderer messes with your brain. Excuse me if I need a little help.”
“This isn’t about needing help. You’re stronger than anyone I know, Darcy. But look me in the eye and tell me you’re following the prescription.”
Darcy glances at the pot boiling on the stove.
“One isn’t always enough.”
“How often?”
“Some days are worse than others.”
“So you pop an extra pill, or do you take a few more? And what does the doctor say when you show up at his office asking for refills when the bottle should be half-full?”
“Jesus, Laurie.”
“Darcy, this isn’t a witch hunt. I’m here for you and always will be. But you need to promise me you’ll follow the prescription. What good are you to the kids if you overdose?”
Darcy crosses her arms and stares at her sneakers.
“Okay, I promise.”
“Did your doctor give you an official diagnosis?”
“You mean my shrink?”
“There’s no shame in admitting you need help.”
“It’s Nyctophobia. An extreme fear of the dark.”
Laurie scratches behind her ear.
“Yet I’ve seen you function after sunset. Does it not affect you all the time?”
“It’s always there, like that sensation you get when someone creeps up behind you. But it’s not always paralyzing. It helps to have people around and to be close to the house.”
Reaching out, Laurie takes Darcy’s hand in hers.
“You’re doing great, Darcy, and I’ll always be here for you. Don’t depend on pills. Now, get your daughter out of the house. You both need clean air and a fresh perspective. Believe me, you’ll feel better after a good walk. I’ll talk to Hunter while you’re gone.”
Darcy hasn’t exercised since Richard Chaney abducted Jennifer in the state park. She worries the trail might trigger bad memories for her daughter, but Laurie is right. A walk will do them good.
Sulking and dramatic, Jennifer agrees after Laurie lends her a new pair of hiking boots. The trek across the meadow loosens the stiff joints in Darcy’s knees and gets her blood flowing. The feeble December sun splits the clouds and takes the bite out of the air, and it isn’t long before Jennifer removes the hooded sweatshirt and ties the arms around her waist.
At the edge of the forest, Darcy searches for a break in the trees and finds the overgrown trail. Branches reach across the path and snag at their clothes, the thin and brittle pieces snapping and crackling as they struggle up the incline. Jennifer doesn’t speak, but she hangs close to Darcy as if afraid she’ll lose her mother if she falls behind. A fiery landscape of red, orange, and yellow leaves blankets the forest floor, the scent of leaf mold strong as animals dart for cover.
Jennifer sounds out of breath when the path bisects the state park trail. The footpath is wider here and maintained for hikers and bicyclists, though Darcy and Jennifer have the trail to themselves as they near the falls. The water’s roar reaches their ears before they see it behind the trees. As the aroma of fresh water mingles with the dead leaves, Darcy imagines the fine mist awaiting them. Spurred by excitement when she sees the falls, Jennifer passes Darcy. This invokes a good-natured race to the top. Darcy jogs to keep up with her daughter while Jennifer sprints to put distance between them.
When they round a bend flanked by oak and ash trees, the falls appear. Darcy pulls up, stunned by the magnitude of the waterfall. The cliff towers two hundred feet over a stream bed. Water rushes over the edge and cascades into the stream where it explodes and spreads mist down the creek. Jennifer’s mouth hangs open. She leans on a rusted black railing and gapes at the power of the falls. Nervous over the rail’s stability, Darcy wants to pull her daughter away from the ledge.
“Be careful, babe.”
Jennifer shakes her head in wonder.
“Look at it. Who knew Georgia had waterfalls?”
Darcy can’t pull her eyes off her daughter. For a frozen moment in time, Jennifer has forgotten the horrors of the past year. The infectious grin reminds Darcy of Jennifer as a child when she first saw a tiger at the zoo.
That’s when Darcy spots the man watching them from the other cliff. There’s no trail there, just untamed wilderness from the ridge to the valley below. A shiver rolls down Darcy’s back. She can’t make out the man’s face, but he’s staring at Jennifer.
CHAPTER THREE
Hazy sunshine filters through weathered windowpanes as Darcy stands in the hallway with Hensel. Inside the bedroom, Hunter and Jennifer slog through homework assignments, the door open a crack so she can monitor them.
“It was probably a hunter,” Hensel says after Darcy tells him about the man at the falls.
“He didn’t have a rifle. And what would he be hunting on top of a cliff, anyhow?”
“Let’s assume he’s Laurie’s stalker. There’s one path down that ridge, so we’ll see him coming long before he gets here. Don’t overreact.”
Darcy leans against the wall and rubs her temples.
“This place is making me paranoid. A lot of good my security system did us in Genoa Cove, but I’d feel better if Laurie had something. At the very least, she needs to replace the back door. A child throwing a tantrum could kick his way inside.”