I think about the last six months as he takes me through the open-plan kitchen and living space. He shows me the new windows theygot at a Habitat for Humanity reclaim store. Never has he hinted about an entire property he was renovating. A property he will own. We will own, I suppose.
But did he really never tell me?
A conversation last Mother’s Day itches the back of my mind.
“You did try to tell me about this place. We were playing—well, getting our paddles handed to us at pickleball. My mom’s latest guy friend...”
“Howard.”
“Yeah. Howard, ‘your most successful real estate partner in all of Narragansett,’” I parrot. “He interrupted your question about buying properties with friends. He never let you finish.”
Clint closes the electrical panel and turns toward me. “That wasn’t the only time I tried to tell you. I’ve actually said out loud to you that I was going up to the cabin.” His eyes stay on mine as I sift through a summer of memories that revolve around fund sales and work calls.
An ache pulses in the back of my throat, and I swallow. He tried telling me earlier in the week—something about Rob and a grant. We got interrupted, and I never asked him a thing about it.
“Is this where you came last Sunday? After our fight?” I ask. Until now, I’ve not wanted to know the answer.
He nods.
“I’m sorry, Clint.” I step toward him and pull him toward me.
“Hey, Dad, is there Wi-Fi? I want to see if our team won.” Reid creeps back into the main room.
“No cell service or Wi-Fi, and as much as this feels like family vacation, your mom and I have some things to figure out. We’re going to need some time to do that.”
My stomach clenches. Definitely off the grid. Are we safe, or did we back ourselves into a cedar-walled corner?
Reid moans.
Clint interlaces his fingers with mine. “We do have a satellite phone we can hot-spot, but...”
“How about some food?” Staying off the grid sounds good, for now. I pull out options for sandwiches and lots of fruit that I start to cut up.
As we are finishing up our early dinner, I comment on the changing of the light outside. It looks like filtered gold.
“Can we go to the pond?” Reid twists around and sprints to the window.
As much as I want everyone to stay inside, stay safe, I also need a moment to think. I’ve gotten so obsessed with work, I’ve not paid nearly enough attention to Erika, who has barely eaten. I wonder if she is thinking about her tracker being linked back to Garman Straub and about whoever is threatening her over these tests... “I think there is just enough daylight left. Why don’t you and Dad go check it out?”
I ignore Clint’s confusion as Reid whines, “But you’re the only one who hasn’t seen it. You have to come.”
“Thanks for thinking of me, honey, but I’ll see it later. Erika and I need to talk.” Feeling Erika stiffen in my periphery, I keep my eyes on Clint’s. “Erika, please take your brother back to the bedroom to help him get ready for the pond.”
Turning my back on the kids, I hear them shuffle from the room.
“Meredith, I think—” Clint begins.
“I have to figure out this connection with the tracker and Garman Straub.” I keep my voice low, but an urgency threads my words. “Erika’s not going to talk to you about the picture. You’re her dad and you’ve seen it. I haven’t, and we need to figure out what she knows. How the picture and tests might be related. I mean, it doesn’t have to be the pond.” Suddenly the idea of Clint more than ten feet from us feels like a bad idea.
“All right, you win, but only because I can see the approach to the cabin from the shore. I’ll leave the satellite phone here. Any car comes down that road, call the police. There’s a sheriff’s office right over the ridge.”
While tamping down the panic fluttering in my chest, I nod.
Minutes later, Clint leads Reid, with an old tackle box banging against his knees, down a pine-needle path to the left of the cabin.
I’ve split us up.
During every horror movie I’ve ever watched, this is the moment I yell at the screen.
