Page 106 of The Haunting of Paynes Hollow

That inner voice of denial is screaming as loud as it can, but it’s such a small voice now, drowned out by the weight of evidence. That objecting voice is pride, the part of me that fears being made a fool of, and it’s shrinking with every passing moment, suffocated by the certainty that I do not give a shit whether I make a fool of myself, if the alternative is letting Ben suffer because I didn’t have the guts to suspect Craig Smits.

Smits saw the journal. He didn’t react, and I took that as a sign he didn’t know what it was. Why would I think he might? Did some part of me already suspect he might?

Yes.

He hadn’t reacted, and I’d been relieved. He didn’t question it either, though. I chalked that up to a lack of interest, but it could just have easily been studied disinterest.

And the notepad. Something about it caught my eye. I’d thought it was just the fact that I’d accidentally left it out.

No, it’d been moved. In my memory, I see myself setting my pen on it and pushing it aside after reading passages to Josie.

My pen hadn’t been on the book when I last saw it. That’s what caught my attention. The pen was set aside, and the book was angled differently than it sat imprinted in my subconscious.

Smits had advised me to change my clothing, which would require going into my room and shutting the door. Giving him time to see what was on the notepad. To see how much we knew.

Could I be wrong?

Absolutely.

But I can test the theory easily enough.

“It’ll be dark soon,” I say, peering up.

If my stomach didn’t plummet, it might be comical how quickly he checks his watch.

“You’re right,” he says. “Josie will be back at the cottage shortly. We might want to think about heading in.”

“And getting flashlights. Bringing Josie out after we eat.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t think so, Sam. It gets awfully dark in here at night.”

“Dangerous, too.”

His head jerks up.

“We could trip,” I say. “Especially if we leave the path.” I peer around. “But, while it seems to be getting dark, that’s mostly just the forest. We still have time, and Josie isn’t due back quite yet.”

“I still say we ought to head in. We can keep calling for Ben on the way.”

“Okay. You’re right. It does get dark faster in the forest—” I jerk my head. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

“It sounded like a moan.” I turn to him, my eyes wide and innocent. “What if Ben’s hurt?”

Smits eases back, getting comfortable in that way of his. The good ol’ boy. The voice of authority.Well, see here, little miss, you’ve got nothing to worry about.

“He’s not,” Smits says. “I’m going to kick his ass for worrying you like this, but it’s just Ben being Ben. Thoughtless and inconsiderate. I’m sorry, hon. I can’t tell whether you’ve developing feelings for the boy, but I really hope not.”

Oh, nicely played. There’s been nothing romantic between me and Ben, but it’s a sure way to make me uncomfortable. Suggest I might be “developing feelings,” and I’ll back off, not wanting anyone to mistake my concern forthat.

I smile and shake my head. “I like my guys a lot less moody. But I can still be concerned about him. He—” I look behind me again. “I am definitely hearing something. I’m going to check it out.”

I take off at a lope. It’s a moment before Smits even calls after me, meaning Ben is not in this direction. But he does call soon enough, and when I ignore him, he comes after me.

“None of this, Sam,” he calls as he stalks my way. “It’s getting dark. If you’re worried, I’ll bring search help out tomorrow, but I’m sure by then, Ben will have turned up.”

I keep going. When I feign stumbling, his strides turn into a lope. “Sam. It istoo dark.You’re going to get—”