Hear No Evil (Brotherhood Trilogy Book 3) Page 5
“The hermit who used to live up in that cabin.” She gathers her hair at the nape of her neck and paces away from me. “I never met the guy. He was gone before I even moved to Legacy, but…there were stories, you know? It made me curious.”
My eyebrows bunch together. “What are you talking about?”
“They say…” She spins to face me, pursing her lips and pressing her thumb into the palm of her hand. “Well, um…they say that one day this family took a wrong turn and ended up at the cabin. The hermit guy lost it and murdered them and then disappeared into the woods.”
“What!” I jump to my feet, horror making me shout.
“Shh.” Caitlin presses her finger against her lips and glances at the door. “It’s just a ghost story. But of course it made me curious. I wasn’t allowed to go up there, but I found it when I was hiking one day.” She sighs and reaches for her shoebox. “It was pretty rundown, but something about the place drew me in. It was a treasure trove of mysteries and unanswered questions…and the perfect place to hide away from a stepmother and annoying baby sisters I didn’t want to like. So I snuck there whenever I could, cleaned it up, made it like a home again.”
I grip the metal ball on her bed frame, feeling this weird kind of violation. She’d been in Uncle Rafe’s place, making herself at home. No wonder the house was so tidy when we found it.
Flipping the lid off the shoebox, she rummages through the contents and pulls out some old-looking Polaroids. “I found these hidden in the back of a kitchen drawer.” She holds them out to me. “I don’t think that ghost story is true. How could a guy like that murder anybody?”
I take the photos from her.
The first shot is of Uncle Rafe. He’s standing on the porch with a sad, resigned smile on his face.
I remember him. The sound of his laughter, the funny faces he used to pull.
“Don’t you go smiling,” he’d tease when I was in a grumpy mood, pointing his finger at me with a stern expression. “I don’t want to see you being happy. Now you just stop that.”
Of course I’d burst into laughter, unable to fight my grin. He’d growl and throw me over his shoulder, turning whatever chore I’d been asked to do into a fun adventure.
My eyes mist as I flip through the rest of the shots—Uncle Rafe proudly holding up a fish, another where he’s making a face at the camera, and then another where he’s looking at the camera like he wants to do passionate things with whoever’s taking the photo.
My eyebrows flicker with confusion at the whole bedroom eyes thing. I didn’t think he had a girlfriend. But then I flip to the next shot.
I go still.
It’s Uncle Rafe and my mom—Sophia Duncan. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. To an eight-year-old boy, she was the only woman.
Uncle Rafe’s bare-chested in this photo—tanned and buff. Mom’s tucked beneath his arm, resting her hand on his stomach. She’s laughing at the camera while Uncle Rafe gazes down at her like he loves her. Not brotherly love. I know the difference now. I obviously didn’t then.
The photo’s a little wonky and off-center.
I remember why.
I took it.
#7:
The Guessing Game
Caitlin
My forehead creases as Riley’s face bunches with confusion. The photos in his hands are trembling.
“Why did you take these?” he snaps. “You just go into someone’s cabin and steal stuff?”
My head jolts back. “Wh-what? I… They were just…” I sputter, trying to find my voice. I’m not used to Riley yelling. He’s always so calm and in control. So nice.
The expression on his face is tormented, his eyes swirling gray as he glares at me.
“The place was abandoned. It was a total mess. No one was ever going to live there again.”
“Well, I live there! So that’s kind of bullshit, isn’t it?”
His voice is only getting louder.
“Riley.” I reach for his arm but he flinches away from me. His expression is stormy and rapidly closing off. “Please, talk to me. Why…why are you so upset about this? Do you know the people in these photos?”
“I gotta go.” He grabs his groceries, brushes past me, and unlocks the door.
“What? But…”
My chest deflates as he stomps through my doorway.
Gina pops out of her room and jerks to a stop in front of him. “Who are you?”
He shakes his head and goes to walk past her, but she holds up her hands to stop him.
“Are you Caity’s boyfriend? I didn’t know she had a boyfriend. That girl never tells me anything.” Gina puts her hands on her hips, looking too cute for her own good.
Too bad it’s not enough to diffuse the situation.
Riley doesn’t say anything. He just shoves the photos in his back pocket and stares down at her. Finally he mutters, “I’m not her boyfriend.”
Stepping around Gina, he disappears down the stairs.
Crossing my arms, I lean against the doorframe, trying to hold it all in. Riley’s boots are loud on the wooden steps. I want to chase after him, beg him to come back and explain the look on his face. But I can’t make a scene. Not in front of my dad or the twins, who never know when to keep their mouths shut.
Gina tips her head and gives me a sad smile. Her pink boots tap on the floor as she crosses over to me. “Don’t worry, Caity. Any guy would be stupid not to fall in love with you.”
She leans against my leg and I’m obliged to pat the top of her head. “I’m nothing special, Gin-Gin. I’m just a nosy neighbor who crossed a line.”
She sighs. “Well, I don’t know what that means, but I love you. Even if he doesn’t.”
My lips twitch. I know she’s only trying to make me feel better but ouch!
Nudging her away from me, I slip back into my room and close the door. The shoebox is still open on my bed. Sitting down with a sigh, I go to close it up when I spot a photo I missed. Pulling it out, I brush the dust off and study it.
It’s a selfie. The big guy is holding the camera and grinning. The woman next to him has her forehead pressed against his cheek, and between them is a little blond kid with blue eyes and a freckle-covered nose. His new front teeth look too big for his little mouth. It’s kind of adorable. The perfect little family.
I brush my finger over the boy’s blue eyes, my mind ticking with an answer I already know.
The Eton Prep runaways didn’t just stumble across that cabin.
One of them knew exactly where it was, because he used to spend his summers there.
At least that’s my guess. And from the look on Riley’s face a few minutes ago, I’m pretty sure I’m right.
#8:
They’re All Dead
Riley
I rev the engine and tear out of the parking space. Mr. Powell is watching me through the window, I can feel it. I wonder if Caity is looking down from her window.
I can’t think about it.
I yelled at her.
I freaking yelled at her.
I can’t think about that either.
There are too many questions in my head right now. They’re expanding, taking over, making my brain hurt.
The groceries in the passenger seat tip to the side, some of them spilling out.
I ignore them, forcing my eyes ahead.
I don’t want to go back to the cabin just yet. They’ll take one look at me and ask what’s up. I’ll have to come up with an excuse to explain my shaking hands and pounding head.
Nothing’s coming to mind.
I’m too busy being overrun with memories.
I gaze around me. Images of Mom and me driving straight through town are so clear. We’d be singing, happy, elated as we headed for Uncle Rafe’s cabin. Mom was always in such a good mood whenever we came down from Bozeman. It was like the mountain air set her free. Or maybe it was something more.
Sickness swirls in my gut. I grip the wheel, confusion making my bra
in ache.
Seeing those images…
It was brutal yet heartwarming.
I want those times again. I was robbed of them. And I don’t even know why…or how!
Spotting a forest road off to my right, I swerve across the lane and pull into it.
I need to think.
I park the car between two pine trees and switch off the engine, then lean my head against the wheel.
After two deep breaths, I reach into my back pocket and pull out the photos again.
I don’t bother flipping through them. I just stare at the one I took.
I remember it—feeling all proud as I snapped this photo of my two favorite people.
Being up at the cabin was like being transported off the earth and into a utopia. Nothing else existed but the three of us, and the forest.
Brushing my thumb over the image, I narrow my eyes.
Why is Uncle Rafe looking at Mom like that? Where was Dad?
Who the hell killed them?
And why didn’t Uncle Rafe come for me!
Was it him? Did Dad discover their affair and come up to stop it?
Did Uncle Rafe overpower them? Shoot them in the head, then drive all the way back to Montana to set up the scene?
“Arggh!” I shout and pound the wheel.
That can’t be true.
You don’t look at a woman the way Uncle Rafe is gazing at Mom and then kill her.
I want to know what happened. I need the truth.
But I can’t get it.
I can’t even remember the last time I was up here. There’s this black hole in my memory.
The summer I was told my parents were killed is a blur. Crazy, fuzzy images of me crying and waking up at St. Catherine’s.
But it’s all so patchy and unclear.
Jerking the door open, I slam it shut behind me and lean against the car. It’s hard to breathe.
The photos are still in my hand. I spread them out like a deck of cards.
I wish the answers I was looking for were somehow in them, but they’re not.
The only people who really know the truth are dead.
They’re all dead.
#9:
Pictures by the Pond
Caitlin
I have to see Riley.
I can’t just leave things as they are.
Sliding the photo into my pocket, I grab the phone I got for Jules. It’s the perfect excuse to pop up to the cabin.
Of course, the guys aren’t really supposed to know about that.
I purse my lips, tapping my finger on the phone box as I think.
“Tampons,” I whisper. “Pads. That’ll work.”
Scrambling around in the bottom of my desk drawer, I pull out some old Christmas paper and put it inside out to wrap up the box. If the guys see me, I’ll tell them it’s tampons and pads. That’ll shut them up in a heartbeat.
Then I can check in on Riley and see how he’s holding up.
He looked ready to pass out when he was staring at the photos.
“Maybe they were his parents,” I mutter, shoving the box into my backpack. An odd sadness sweeps through me as I imagine poor little Riley becoming an orphan. I don’t know how it happened exactly, but my research did unearth that Riley Duncan’s parents were deceased.
He mustn’t be over losing them if his little freak-out in my room was anything to go by. A shiver runs down my spine as I head downstairs.
“Where are you going?” Penny calls when I race past her.
I ignore the question and paste on a smile. “Hey, Dad. Can I borrow the truck, please?”
“What for?” He rings up Mrs. Houston’s bill and I wait for her to pay before I answer.
“I’ve finished up with calc and I need to head out for some biology research.”
His eyes narrow as he studies my expression. I stare him in the eye. It’s the best way to hide my lies.
“What are you researching?”
My mind races to recall my coursework while working on keeping my expression innocent. I raise my eyebrows and smile when inspiration hits me. “I have to relate the C3, C4, and CAM pathway to plant anatomy, photosynthesis, and the environment.”
Dad grunts. “I don’t know what the heck you just said, which means you must be telling the truth.”
Guilt nips me as I try to hold my smile in place.
I don’t mean to be a liar. It’s just easier sometimes.
Unclipping his keys from his belt, Dad passes them over. “I want you back for supper. And if you’re taking any trails, stick to them. And make sure you have your phone on you at all times. And—”
“Yes, sir.” I cut him off with a wink and a smile.
He gives me the kind of look that makes me feel special.
“I’ll be careful, I promise. I love you, Dad.”
“You too, Sweet Pea.”
Gripping my bag strap, I race out the door before he figures out how unsweet I actually am.
My forehead creases. I shouldn’t lie. But if I didn’t, I’d be shut up in my room worrying about Riley. I don’t make stuff up to hurt people. I do it in order to help them.
All the lying I’ve been doing lately has been for Riley and his friends. I can’t stop now.
I make the trip up the mountain a quick one. Dad’s poor truck grinds up the hill as I push the pedal to the floor.
When I crest the top of the driveway, I spot Ana sitting on that big old tree stump. Her expression tenses and then relaxes into a grin when she sees me getting out of the driver’s side.
“Hey.” She stands and strolls towards me. “What are you doing here?”
I glance around to make sure we’re alone before I unzip my backpack. “I have a little something for Jules.”
Ana looks confused until I hold out the box and give it a rattle. “Is that a…?” She points at it.
I wrinkle my nose as I look to the cabin, making sure no one’s on the front deck watching us. “Is anyone around?”
“No.” She shakes her head. “Karl and Troy are out doing who knows what, and Jules has taken Ellie for a walk. She’s not settling today.”
“Aww.” I tip my head and pass over the box. “I wrapped it up in case the guys were around. I was going to say it was tampons or something.”
Ana grins.
“But it is, of course, the phone for Jules.”
Her fingers tighten around the box as she stares down at it.
“She’ll have to set it up, but the deal I got came with a preloaded SIM card. Twenty bucks.”
“That’s so great.” Ana grins. “Thank you. Jules will be very happy.” Her voice peters off near the end, her eyes getting misty for a second.
“Are you okay?” I rub her arm.
“Yeah, of course.” She sniffs and pulls her shoulders back, acting like I can’t see her face. “Anyway.” Clearing her throat, she shakes her head and leans against the truck. “I’m surprised you didn’t see Ryan in town.”
“Oh.” I turn to scan the area, searching for his car. It’s not there. My insides jump with worry. I glance back at Ana, who must be feeling the same thing.
The sentimental sheen in her eyes has been replaced with marked concern. “He’s been gone a long time.”
I paste on a smile. “I wouldn’t worry about it. He was helping me with an assignment.”
Her eyebrows slowly rise. “Really? Why didn’t you give him the phone to bring up, then?”
“Because…” I shrug. “I didn’t want him knowing what it was. I figured it was safer to hand it to you personally…without curious eyes watching.”
She snickers and hugs the phone to her chest. “Good point.”
“I’m sure he’ll be here any minute.”
Ana’s head bobs. “Yeah, probably. He may have even gone past the hardware store.”
“Or gone for a walk before heading back.”
I was trying to sound casual and upbeat. I didn’t want her reading me too hard. I was sick with worry
for Riley. He should be back by now. I hope something bad hasn’t happened to him. These mountain roads are windy and treacherous.
“Well, I better get back.” I step backwards and swing the door open, already thinking through places I could check for Riley on my way home.
“Thanks for the delivery, Miss Supply.”
I laugh and wave my hand at her. “No problem. I just hope it makes Jules happy.”
“It will.” Ana waves and heads for the cabin.
Reversing the truck, I take the bumpy, steep driveway carefully. I don’t want to run into Riley on his way back up.
I don’t see him.
Worry continues to gnaw on my gut.
Gripping the wheel, I take it easy on the drive back to Legacy, scanning the road for tire marks or anything out of the ordinary. I’m over halfway home when I spot something on my left. I slam the brakes and skid to a stop. Whipping around, I stare at the forest road and swear I spot the top edge of a car.
“Riley,” I whisper.
Checking for traffic, I spin around and take the forest road, parking right next to Riley’s car.
Much to my disappointment, he’s not in the driver’s seat.
I lightly kick his tire and do a spin. I want to shout his name but I’m worried if I do, he’ll sneak away from me.
I hate that he’s mad.
I guess he has a right to be. I did treat that cabin like it was mine…even though it wasn’t. I shouldn’t have taken stuff out of there.
Considering the state I found it in, I probably should have called the police. Upturned furniture, mess all over the floor, pictures ripped off the walls and smashed…like someone was looking for something.
I didn’t understand what it meant at the time. I was too enamored with finding a secret base to even consider what it could mean.
The hours I spent working on it.
Crossing my arms against the chill, I hike into the forest, studying the ground for trampled leaves and footprints.
It takes me about ten minutes, but I find him relatively easily.
He’s sitting on a log by the pond, hunched over and miserable.
I approach quietly. I’m less than two feet away when he finally glances over his shoulder. “Thought it was you.”