“Hate to bring this to anyone’s doorstep.” The muscles in Clint’s jaw pulse.
“True.” I wilt back against my seat. “Maybe a vacation place. Who has one close?” I squint as I can think of a few folks who have unused ski places this time of year in Vermont and Maine.
“Can you call Rob on my phone?” Clint switches lanes without a blinker.
“I think a black SUV is following us,” Erika pipes up from the back seat.
47
I CHECK THE SIDE MIRRORand then spin around in my seat. What SUV? I finally see it three cars back. “How long has it been there?”
“I think Dad’s last two turns.” Erika’s voice is soft.
“I’m taking the 134.”
The exit is in two miles. Not like we can evade them. Best to try to figure out where we’re going. At this point the police station is better than Candace and her guys. I snag Clint’s phone from the cup holder in the center console and find Rob’s contact. After pressing it, I hand it to Clint.
“Hey, wondering if you’re using the cabin today.”
I replay Clint’s words, delivered with Oscar-worthy ease. Rob has a cabin? Since he moved back to the Hudson Valley from Georgia, he’s been trying to find his way. He sold a specialized backpack business. His expertise as an outfitter for the Appalachian Trail served him well with the kind of gear hardcore hikers needed. Rob is full of ideas, but I didn’t think he’d really decided to settle.
“And Mer and the kids. Maybe through the weekend.” Clint responds to something Rob has said with a part grunt, part chuckle. I’m not sure Rob is my biggest fan, so probably smart not to put it on speaker. My career has never sat well with Rob’s notion of a well-lived life.
“I know you say that. I don’t want to overstep.” Clint lowers his voice. “Look, mention to no one that we’re heading there.” He chews on his lips. “Yeah, nobody.”
I point to the exit he said he was going to take.
Clint shakes his head. “Thanks, buddy. Yeah, of course.” He says his goodbyes and then hands me the phone.
“Are we going to Uncle Robbie’s cabin? Do you think the raccoon babies are grown?”
“You’ve been to Rob’s cabin?” I spin around again, taking in the faces of all my family.
“I’ve only been once. It smells like a hamster cage,” Erika says. “Hey, that was the SUV I thought was following us.”
I glance over at the car beside us. A woman in a ball cap is driving alone, talking animatedly.
“I’ve been watching it catch up from the passing lane. I think we’re in the clear.” Clint pulls off onto the Bryant Pond Road exit.
“So, Erika has been to this cabin once. What about you guys? How many times? And where is it?” I keep my tone light, but I’m a bit shook at not knowing anything about this place.
“Dad and I’ve gone a few times after school, but we’ve never spent the night. Can we?”
“Probably, buddy,” Clint says. “We’re only about twenty minutes away.”
“You already knew we were coming here?” Tall pines hug both sides of the road.
“Strong possibility. Unless you had another idea.” Clint pats myleg. “Look, Rob’s only had it for a few months. I’ve helped him fix it up. It was a disaster.”
“Who knows you’ve been up here?” Certainly not me.
“Don’t think many, if any, even know of it. Much less that I’ve been there.”
“Is it decent?” I ask but it hardly matters at this point. It gets us off the road without putting any of our friends in whatever danger we’re in.
“It’s cool,” Reid says. “Raccoons live in the woodpile by the bathroom, and you have to eat on the floor.”
At least there’s a floor, but an outhouse? I’m not a big fan of spiders, and I imagine an outdoor toilet room is exactly where they live. I try to refocus on the fact that we have a place to go. Something crawls up the back of my arm. Stifling a yelp, I grab at the imaginary tickle.
