Secrets and Lies(12)

She couldn’t resist. Putting the box down, she picked up the journal. The pages inside were lined with Caitlin’s perfect, rounded handwriting. Her eyes started to burn, but she kept flipping. Midway through the book, Caitlin had penned a detailed drawing, and Tenley paused on it. It was of a toy: a circus train. Curious, she skimmed over the entry that accompanied it.

In it Caitlin had written about one of her hypnosis sessions with her therapist, Dr. Filstone, during which she’d seen the basement where she’d been held when she was kidnapped in sixth grade. It was exactly as it was in her nightmares: red walls, red curtains, red carpet. The color of blood. But for the first time, she’d seen something new: a beautiful, steel circus train.

Tenley turned back to the drawing. Caitlin must have spent a lot of time on it, because it was impressively detailed, from the etchings along the side to the animals peeking out through the barred windows of the caravans to the number stamped onto its back wheel: 111.

She traced a finger along its inky lines. She had the strangest feeling that she’d seen that train before somewhere. But for the life of her she couldn’t remember where.

She was filled with a sudden urge to pick up her phone and call Cait, talk it over with her like she used to whenever she had a problem. But, of course, if she could do that, she wouldn’t have this problem in the first place. She clamped her jaw shut, refusing to go any further down that line of thinking. Instead, she grabbed her phone and opened a new text to Marta, who’d also been close to Cait when they were younger. Do you recognize this? From elementary school maybe? She snapped a photo of Caitlin’s drawing and attached it. I found an old drawing and it’s driving me crazy that I can’t remember!!

Marta responded quickly. Hmmm, def familiar but not sure. Will keep thinking! XO

Tenley took a final look at the train. She’d definitely seen it before. But where?

With a sigh, she flipped to the last entry in the journal. Her eyes widened when she saw the date. It had been written the day Caitlin died. She sank onto Caitlin’s desk chair and pulled Sailor onto her lap. Bracing herself, she began to read.

When I woke up in the hospital this morning, I wished so badly I had this diary with me. Because the dream I had last night… it was different from all the others. It was more real, for one, the sounds louder, the colors more vivid, the images crisper. And where all the other dreams had stopped—locked the door and shut the blinds, refusing me entrance—this one kept going. I made myself picture the whole thing over and over as I lay there in my hospital bed, so I wouldn’t forget a single detail. So here goes. Let’s see if it worked.

I was in the same red basement. But like I said, things were clearer than they’d ever been, as if a fog had been lifted. The hooded figure came in, face concealed of course. But this time, as the figure moved closer, the hood slid off. And there was my kidnapper, in full, living color. And it wasn’t Jack Hudson.

It was a woman. Tears were streaming down her face, making her mascara run. Clutched in her hands was a one-eared teddy bear. As she held it out, it hit me. I knew her. I’d seen her before. Then just like that, the dream ended. I woke up after that feeling so unsure. Had that really been a memory? Or was it just my imagination working overtime? But the more I think about it, the more convinced I become… It was real.

Tenley gaped down at the journal. A woman? On the Justice, Caitlin had told her that she’d figured out who her kidnapper was, that it wasn’t Jack Hudson, as the cops had claimed. She’d been half unconscious at the time, coughing from smoke inhalation, so Tenley hadn’t taken it very seriously. But maybe she should have.

Tenley paused, debating. Before she could change her mind, she tossed the journal into the box Mrs. Thomas had left for her. She’d return it later in the week, she promised herself. She just wanted a chance to read the rest of it first. “Our secret, okay, Sailor?” She gave Sailor a pat on the head before hurrying out of Caitlin’s room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

A half hour later Tenley was in a bathing suit heading into her backyard. The stop at Caitlin’s house had tightened up her shoulder even more, and she couldn’t wait to get in the hot tub. She shivered a little under her towel as the cool fall air brushed against her bare shoulders. Her arms were full of provisions: Diet Coke, a bag of pretzels, and her backpack with Caitlin’s journal in it. She clutched it all to her chest as she made her way to the other side of the grounds.

The woods yawned off to her right, a tangle of branches and sky. Trees sent leaves pinwheeling to the ground, flashing burgundy and gold. In the distance she could hear the faint crash of waves punctuating her footsteps. Tenley breathed in deeply, inhaling the familiar scent of dried leaves and salty ocean air. This was exactly what she needed right now: peace, quiet, and hot, foamy bubbles.

The air was crisp, but the hot water enveloped her like a blanket as she climbed into the tub. She sank back, resting her head on the rim. The water level was a little higher than usual, and a few drops spilled over the edge as the bubbles skated across her shoulders, warming her skin and unknotting her muscles. She closed her eyes. She’d read Caitlin’s journal in a bit; first she needed some time to relax.

The hum of the jets was lulling, and for the first time all week she could feel her worries falling away, sinking down the drain. She was the old Tenley again, the one whose biggest concern was winning a pageant, the one whose best friend was just a few yards away, alive and well and in her bedroom.…

She was so relaxed, it took her a full second to register the feeling of a hand on top of her head.

What?

Her eyes flew open, but it was too late. With a hard shove, the hand pushed her underwater.

Beneath the water the bubbles distorted everything, turning the world into a twisting, fun-house mirror. Her eyes burned and her muscles screamed as she flailed desperately, struggling against the hand. Water fought its way into her mouth, setting her insides on fire as chlorine rushed down her throat and up her nose. Still, the person held on tight.

She heard the crack before she felt it. Bam! The hot tub lid slammed down on top of her, reverberating through her bones. Instantly, all light and air were snuffed out.

She tried to shove her head above water, but there was no gap; the water level was too high. Someone had planned this! She wanted to scream, to cough, to breathe, but all she could do was pound helplessly against the lid. Again and again and again. It didn’t budge.

Her lungs ached. Her chest constricted. She was going to drown.

Panic lashed through her. It was a living thing, crawling down her throat and squeezing her from the inside out. Her limbs grew weighted. The world flickered in and out, like a bad connection. From deep inside the blackness, a single thought crystallized.

The darer has won.

“Tenley? You out here?”

The voice was muffled, distant. She had no idea whom it belonged to, but she didn’t care. She flung herself at the lid, kicking and pounding.

“What the hell…?” The voice danced above her, drawing closer.

Her chest ached and she was spinning, spinning, but she pounded even harder. Her mind darkened, fragmenting into pieces.

The lid flew open. Sunlight and salty air rushed in.

“Oh my god, Tenley!” Hunter’s face floated above her. “What happened?”

Tenley choked down big gulps of fresh air as Hunter pulled her out of the hot tub. She was coughing violently as she collapsed against the side of it, soaking wet and shivering.

“Your maid said you were in the hot tub, so I came back here to look for you.…” Hunter’s ice-blue eyes were bulging. “What happened?”

Tenley sucked in more air, waiting for the world to right itself. Her throat burned and her chest ached, but she was free. She was alive. “Tenley?” Hunter pressed. “The cover was locked! With you in the tub! What’s going on?”

Tenley opened her mouth. “I—” She began.

A shrill beep cut her off. Her eyes flew to the ground, where her provisions lay in the grass. Her phone’s gold case glinted from inside her backpack. As if in a trance, she squatted down, her hands reaching for the phone.

She had one new text, from a blocked number.

Lucky girl. But tell the cops—or anyone—about me like you keep threatening to, and you’ll make it to your grave once and for all.

Tenley whirled around, frantically scanning the yard. Was the darer here now? Had he or she watched Hunter save her? And when had the darer heard her talking about cops? She caught a flash of movement in the woods, but before she could scream, a bunny emerged, hopping lazily along.

“Tenley!” Hunter grabbed her arm. His fingers were cold against her skin. “Tell me what’s going on.”

She coughed again as her gaze landed on Hunter. What was he even doing here? Sure he’d saved her, but how did she know he hadn’t shoved her underwater, too? He could easily have set the text up earlier to send automatically. She shivered even harder. The darer could be anyone.

Tenley grabbed her towel, buying time as she dried off. She had to pull herself together; she had to hide her fear. “I knocked the hot tub cover over while I was climbing in,” she lied, wrapping her towel tightly around her. Her voice shook a little, but she ignored it, giving him her best silly-me expression. “Can you believe I did that? The cover locks really easily, and I guess it got stuck. There’s a trick to getting it unlocked from the inside, so I would have gotten out eventually, but it’s so much better having a white knight save me!” It wasn’t her best lie ever, but Hunter didn’t contradict her. Either he bought it, or he wanted to pretend he did. “What made you come by?” she added, trying to keep her voice casual.