Cold Pursuit

Fourteen

Nora unrolled her sleeping bag in the pitch-dark of her small dome tent. She had a flashlight but didn’t want to use it and risk someone finding her. She felt safer that way. But she hadn’t considered how dark it would be. Even with the half-moon, it was a black night. She’d set up her tent on a level spot off the falls trail-Beth Harper had once described it to her. She and her sister used to camp up here as kids. It was located on the saddle that connected Cameron Mountain to an unnamed peak that had few trails and wasn’t popular with hikers. Devin had told her about a kind of pathway along the saddle, off the main trails, around to the north side of the mountain.

That was her ultimate destination. She could have driven out to the old logging road over there, but then it’d be obvious to anyone who found her car where she was headed.

She wanted to see the spot where Devin had found Drew Cameron.

She hadn’t known Devin then, but she believed the horror of that day was key to whatever was going on with him. Maybe if she could understand, she could help him-even if he had stolen money from her.

“Which he didn’t,” she whispered aloud, getting on her hands and knees and smoothing out her sleeping bag as best she could. She’d been lucky to find the campsite before nightfall. She could have hiked longer, but she hadn’t wanted to trip over a rock or a root in the dark and break something. Then what would she do?

Pitching her tent hadn’t taken her as long as it might have if she hadn’t practiced after she bought it for her class with Elijah. The poles were color coded, which had made things easier. She’d eaten up daylight trekking from where she’d left her car. Everyone would think she was on the east trail-it was one of the easiest and most popular-but she’d cut off onto a seldom-used spur that intersected the falls trail. And she hadn’t stayed on it, either. Going off trail was a huge risk, but she didn’t want anyone to stumble on to her-including Devin, she thought, feeling guilty at her disloyalty.

She’d started up the mountain too late in the day to get to the north side before nightfall. Even at a moderate pace, she could cover maybe a mile an hour hiking in the rugged terrain, but her heavy pack and the conflation of a thousand different emotions-fear, grief, shock, everything-had slowed her down.

She sniffled, crawling back to the head of her sleeping bag. She’d taken off her boots, but her feet were dry and warm in her socks-wool with a moisture-wicking liner. The tent was tight quarters, but Elijah had explained how a smaller space was easier to warm up and keep warm. He’d emphasized all the ways not to freeze to death.

Like his father did.

Nora pulled off her gloves-she’d put them and a hat on once she’d gotten up on the mountain-and tucked them back in her pack, her teeth chattering, although not from the cold. It was her jumble of thoughts and all the different scenarios that her mind kept throwing out to her of what was going on.

She wished she could just stop thinking.

There was, mercifully, no wind where she was, although supposedly her tent could withstand high winds. She could hear the rush of the waterfall straight down from her campsite and an owl in the nearby spruce tree, its rhythmic hoot eerie but not scary. It was as if it were calling to her, trying to reassure her that all would be well.

Fully clothed except for her hiking boots, Nora slid deep into her mummy-style sleeping bag. It was rated to keep her warm in temperatures as cold as minus twenty. It’d be cold tonight, but not that cold. She’d be fine. She’d eaten a couple of energy bars and drunk plenty of water; Elijah had pounded in the importance of staying hydrated.

She lay on her back, not feeling as claustrophobic as she’d expected. She adjusted the sleeping bag’s hood up over her head, another way to prevent heat loss.

Shutting her eyes was the same as keeping them open. Everything was black. Her tent had a little mesh stargazing window that she could open, but she thought looking up at the night sky would only make her feel smaller, more alone.

Alex is dead…Melanie hates me…Mom doesn’t care about me…

“Don’t think,” she whispered, wriggling inside her sleeping bag. She hoped she didn’t have to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night. She’d dug a cat-hole outside her tent, but she hated-hated-the idea of having to use it, especially in the dark. Such niceties wouldn’t faze Devin.

Maybe she should have trusted him.

She clutched the silky sleeping bag from the inside.

You’re in shock.

She wished Alex hadn’t been killed, but she didn’t delude herself. She’d never loved him and resented how he had treated her father. Ever since her mother and Alex got together, Nora had tried to be neutral about him. Devin didn’t understand why she’d bothered. “My father was a total cretin, but he’d never have done something like that-steal his best friend’s wife,” he’d said. “That’s really disgusting.”

But who were they to judge? Nora just wanted her mother to be happy. That was what her father had told her, too. “I just want your mother to be happy.”

Except it wasn’t that easy. Maybe, with Alex’s death, her father would dump Melanie and go back to her mother.

Just so long as no one thought he’d run over Alex. Her father had never shown any anger or sense of betrayal, but he wouldn’t. He was restrained that way-emotionally repressed, her mother would say.

A branch snapped down toward the trail, and Nora bolted upright and stifled a scream.

Dead leaves crunched nearby-she couldn’t tell how close.

She could feel her heart thumping as she took small, shallow breaths.

The owl had stopped hooting, but she could hear the rush of the falls down the mountain. She sat as still and as quiet as possible.

But she didn’t hear anything more.

A bear, maybe.

Making as little noise as possible, she eased deep into her sleeping bag. It was funny, she thought sarcastically-right now she’d rather have a bear find her tent than anyone she knew in Black Falls. Even Beth, Dominique and Hannah. Even Elijah. What did she know, really, about any of them? And why should they care about her?

Nora stared wide-eyed into the darkness and told herself over and over again not to think.

Don’t think, don’t think, don’t think.

As if it was a mantra that could block out any intrusive thoughts and fears, and keep her safe.