The back end of the Prius veers around a bend, centrifugal force ripping the car toward the guard rail. She tugs the steering wheel and rights the vehicle when the tires spin along the gravel shoulder, her heart in her throat.
The Torres family lives a mile from downtown. Darcy memorized the address after Aaron began harassing Hunter. She doubts Aaron will go home as he’ll need to explain to his parents where he’s been tonight and why Hunter chased him across the village. No, Aaron and his friends will celebrate their juvenile victory at a private, secluded location. Leaving no witnesses when they gang up on Hunter.
“Is there somewhere Aaron and Sam Tatum go to drink and party?”
Jennifer jumps at Darcy’s voice.
“Come on, Jennifer. Think. Where do they like to go?”
A blind curve takes Darcy by surprise. She stomps the brakes as the car crosses the dividing line.
“Sam’s parents own a cabin on route 41. I know Aaron and the others go there to drink.”
“Tell me how to get there.”
Jennifer gives a quick nod and grabs the door handle as Darcy speeds through a stop sign. While Jennifer gives directions, Darcy pictures the road network in her head. If she takes the county road, they’ll miss the village traffic.
The phone rings. She hopes it is Ames or Julian.
“It’s a beautiful moon tonight, Darcy.”
The voice makes Darcy’s head swim. Michael Rivers. Her limbs go cold, and she tilts her gaze at the moon. The glowing face seems to follow her along the dark road.
“Darcy? Don’t give up on me now. The horror show is just beginning.”
Jennifer knows something is wrong. She glares at Darcy from across the seat. Her mouth moves, but Darcy can’t hear what she says.
Darcy wants to toss the phone out the window. Holding the phone with Rivers on the other end is like clutching carrion.
“I saw the killer’s face. I know who he is now.”
Rivers cackles.
“If you knew who served the moon, the police would have caught him already. But he isn’t alone.”
Another killer? Or is someone helping him?
Bronson. It makes sense. He must be the one who gave Rivers her phone number. Hell, he knew her address from the moment she walked into the martial arts center.
But who keeps giving Rivers phones at the prison? Warden Ellsworth or a guard?
“What color is the moon tonight, Darcy? Is it the color of fresh blood on a sandy beach? I always preferred to hunt under a harvest moon.”
“You’ll never hunt again. I hope you rot in that cell.”
“What a terrible thing to say. I have only compliments for you. You’re striking in the moonlight. Almost as pretty as Laurie.”
The memory of her phone call with Laurie pierces her heart. Laurie said she had a stalker in Georgia. No, it can’t be the Darkwater Cove killer. He can’t be in two places at once.
Except Rivers told her the killer wasn’t alone tonight.
“Stay the hell away from Laurie. She’s done nothing to hurt you.”
“I told you I’d take your entire family, Darcy. I keep my promises.”
Rivers ends the call. Jennifer’s mouth hangs open. Did Jennifer hear Rivers’ voice over the phone, or has the perceptive girl figured it out by listening to Darcy’s end of the conversation?
Before Jennifer crumbles, Darcy presses her foot on the accelerator and hurtles toward route 41. Busy work keeps her daughter sane, and Darcy encourages her to continue messaging Hunter in the hope he’ll come to his senses and tell them where he is.
“How much farther?” Darcy asks, sweeping her gaze across the desolate countryside.
“Two or three miles.”
The cabin rests on a hillock and overlooks an inlet river five miles from the coast. A long gravel driveway bisects a small grove of apple trees, the fallen fruit clumped around the trunks and rotting. No lights shine from the windows, and the driveway is devoid of tire tracks. A dead end.
Where else to look? The Torres residence, the high school…
She sits in the car with the motor running and considers her next move. As she interrogates the dashboard GPS, her phone vibrates with a new message arrival.
Jennifer looks over Darcy’s shoulder as the messages arrive in rapid succession.
Alder Park at 10 PM. Take the rim trail.
I have Hunter.
No police or he dies.
Jennifer covers her mouth and cries. Darcy can barely hold the phone in her trembling hand. She types back.
Let him go, Aaron.
A minute passes without a reply, then—
I’m not Aaron.
The clock reads nine. Alder Park sits on the northern point of the cove. She ran its trails when they first moved to the village. After climbing the rim trail to its peak, she looked down upon the blackest waters of the cove where two cliffs block the sun and starlight. She can make it there in twenty minutes and buy herself enough time to scout the park. Darcy accepts she’s walking into a trap.
“What are you going to do?” Jennifer asks.
“I’m calling the police, then I’m going after Hunter.”
“You saw the message. He’ll kill Hunter if we bring the police.”
He’ll kill him regardless, she thinks. At least she has a fighting chance to save Hunter if she hurries. As Michael Rivers promised, the horror show is just beginning. But she refuses to play his game.
Darcy is a caged animal. She needs to break free. Run. Protect her kin. What will she do with Jennifer? She can’t leave her alone in the car and run off to face a murderer.
She takes a composing breath and touches Jennifer’s shoulder. The teenage girl turns her head, Jennifer’s eyes desperate. Darcy scrolls through her contacts and finds Julian. Her finger hovers over the number. She’s putting a lot of trust in a man she doesn’t know. Darcy trusted Bronson, and it came back to bite her.
After a brief hesitation, she changes her mind and calls Hensel.
“Where are you?”
She gives him their location and reads the messages.
“This whole night was a set up,” Hensel says, starting his engine. “The body turned out to be a false alarm. Somebody threw a dummy along the coast outside Smith Town and covered it with blood. Damn convincing until we turned on the flashlights. The ruse was a diversion, something to keep us busy.”
Darcy backs out of the driveway and turns the car toward Alder Park. As she drives, she tells him about the phone call from Michael Rivers and the messages.
“Wait for me,” he says, raising his voice so she can hear him over the background conversation. Darcy recognizes Ames in the background. “I’m following Ames and his team to Alder Park. Keep your cool, Darcy.”
“If it was your son, could you?”
“No, but do it anyway. You’re not helping Hunter by walking into a trap. And don’t hang up the phone. Keep the lines of communication open until we’re at the park.”
Hensel is right. Darcy has no argument. But she’s not waiting for him. She’ll beat Hensel to Alder Park by thirty minutes by the time he fights traffic and crosses the coastal bridge.
The dashed white dividing line arrows at the windshield. The moon loses its red tinge and hides behind a forest, but she knows it’s there like the pallid face of a vampire concealed in the fog. She blinks to break the spell the dividing line casts upon her. Genoa Cove’s village lights sparkle on the horizon. Hensel is five miles behind her and closing fast. Now and then Hensel radios Ames, and she eavesdrops on their banter. Anything to distract her from the terror she feels whenever she imagines Hunter alone with a serial killer. The killer caused the distraction at the cove, so he must have watched her house until Aaron Torres provoked Hunter.