Or was there something more sinister going on?
Once he’d parked and locked his car, JD set off into the woods. He was pretty sure he knew where he was going—past the charred spot where AHS kids held their bonfire parties, past the odd clearing with the brown, scratchy grasses just on the edge of the lake. He knew the chances he’d find any indication of the exact spot where Landon had died—or of what had killed him—were next-to-none. The police had been involved. ?A body didn’t get hauled out of a pond every day. And Landon’s body was discovered weeks ago—he wasn’t about to find a preserved footprint in the mud or something.
Still, he kept walking, compelled by something he couldn’t name: a drumming sense of unease, a foreboding flickering at the edges of his consciousness. A sense that he was being given clues to a puzzle he was barely even aware of. A light spring mist was falling from the sky, hovering in slow motion before sliding onto the leaves and bark and roots. The soft shhhhh of rustling branches mixed with drizzle was all around him, creating a veil of sound into which he walked deeper. He trudged through the forest, sidestepping muddy patches and stopping occasionally to break off a fresh branch—like Hansel with his bread crumbs, JD wanted to be sure he could find his way out.
The ground grew spongier and JD knew he was getting close to the small pond tucked into the trees. The drizzle turned to full-on rain. There it was. Surrounded by short reeds and cattails and bushes that would be rainforestlike in less than a month. He took a few steps nearer, wondering where exactly Mr. Landon’s body had been found. Squish. Was this where he’d died? Squish. Was this?
Was this where Henry Landon had been marked as easy prey?
A bird called from the trees, a harsh, mocking cry. JD had the sense that he was very out of place. He looked behind him and squinted into the trees up ahead. Raindrops and fog settled on his glasses, obscuring his view.
Something glinted in the mud. Right there, just past that rock. JD squatted down, thrusting his hand into the wet dirt and pulling out a gold pendant.
His fingers went stiff. It was a snake charm, similar to the pin Drea had always worn.
They’re everywhere. They’re always watching.
A delicate chain dangled from the pendant. It was broken, like it had been ripped off instead of removed deliberately. He held it in his hand and ran his thumb over its engraving. The snake’s scales were intricate.
He’d seen Em kill a snake in the cemetery. ?There had been a snake carved into the hilt of Ty’s knife.
His glasses slipped down his nose. His sweater was heavy with moisture. His shoes were soaked and the lake looked gray and angry. Suddenly all the nature around him seemed tinged with malice. Spring was a time of growth and chirping and flowers, but here it seemed darker. More parasitic, creeping, clinging. He felt as though the muddy ground he stood on were sinking—it let off a faint hissing sound. Sinister. He had the sudden sense that if he stayed too long in this spot, he might never get out.
CHAPTER TEN
On Friday afternoon, Em dialed Skylar’s number as soon as she got home from school. It was still light out, but barely. “Is your aunt back yet?” Em said.
“She got back this morning,” Skylar replied. She sounded exhausted. Em thought about reminding Skylar she’d promised to call the second her aunt returned, but decided against it. “Do you want me there when you talk to her?”
“Yes, yes, absolutely,” Em said. “She won’t talk to me otherwise. I’ll come right over.”
“Don’t come here,” Skylar responded quickly. “We’re, ah, doing some renovations and everything is a mess. Meet me at the Connor Greenhouse—do you know where that is, in the nature preserve off Rambling Brook Road? My aunt volunteers there some evenings.”
Em did know where it was—she’d driven by it a few times on her way to and from Drea’s house. She confirmed and hung up; as she crammed her feet into her muddy boots and threw on a light jean jacket, she could feel her blood buzzing in her veins.
She was getting closer to the truth—she knew it.
Nora had to have some answers. The picture of her with Hannah and Edie meant something—it had to.
The time passed in a blur as Em waited for Nora’s return. She’d exchanged a few random texts with Crow, but his normally permissive parents were freaked out by his recent brush with the law—his court date was coming up in a couple of weeks—and were keeping him on house arrest. And on some level, she was relieved, because it meant someone was watching him. She hadn’t really realized how worried about him she was, until now.