She suddenly had the feeling that this was all one big trick being played on her, that at any second everyone would start laughing, patting Ruthie on the back, saying, We sure fooled you! Her mother would even come out of hiding, in on the joke. Maybe it had all been her brainchild—a way to teach Ruthie some lesson about responsibility.
“One way to find out,” Candace said. “I’ll go first, but if you all don’t follow right behind, you can bet I’ll be back out in a jiffy. And I’m not going to be happy.” She patted the holster under her coat in case anyone missed the point.
“I don’t know about this,” Ruthie said. What kind of person actually uses the word “jiffy”? Particularly when threatening people with a gun?
“She doesn’t like small spaces,” Fawn explained to the others.
Understatement of the year, thought Ruthie.
“I’m not thrilled about it, either,” Candace said. “But, like it or not, that’s where we’ve got to go.”
Candace shoved her pack down into the hole, then took off her coat and pushed it in, too. The snowshoes she left leaning against the rock. Headlamp shining, she wiggled herself into the hole headfirst and seemed to get stuck midway.
“Maybe it’s not big enough. Maybe we can’t get through, or it’s just a dead end,” Ruthie said, beginning to sweat as she watched Candace struggle. Candace kicked her feet, writhed, and squirmed like a swimmer stuck on land. They heard muffled curse words from inside. Eventually, Candace’s feet disappeared. A few moments later, there was an echoing shout: “I’m in! Come on! Hurry! You’re not going to believe this!”
Katherine turned to the girls and began talking quickly and quietly. “I’ll go next,” she said. “I’ll take as long as I can getting in. But here’s what I want you girls to do.” She rummaged in her coat pocket and pulled out a set of keys. “Take the path that leads right down to the road. My car is parked about a quarter-mile past your driveway. It’s a black Jeep Cherokee. My cell phone’s in the glove compartment. Call for help. If there’s no signal, get in the car and go to the nearest house. Just get out of here. This Candace woman is clearly nuts, and I’m afraid she’s going to hurt someone with that gun she keeps waving around. I can hold her off for a while, give you a good head start.”
“Where the hell are you?” Candace yelled from the hole. “Who’s coming next?”
“I am!” Katherine shouted into the hole. “I’m on my way!”
Ruthie let herself imagine it for a minute: escaping down the hill with Fawn, calling 911 on Katherine’s phone, orchestrating a rescue. But Candace believed her mother was in the cave. What if she was right? What if her mother was hurt, or what if Candace got to her first, with her insane conspiracy theories—and her gun?
Ruthie shook her head, lowered her voice. “I’m not leaving.”
She took the doll from her sister’s arms, unwrapped the gun, and showed it to Katherine, holding it in her outstretched palm. “I really think my mother might be in there. And I know that, whatever’s going on, she’d never leave me and my sister on purpose. So, if she is down there, chances are she’s in trouble. And with Candace heading in, things just got worse.”
Katherine looked at the gun, sighed, and nodded.
Ruthie turned to Fawn. “You take the keys and follow the path down to the road. Find the Jeep and call for help. You’re a big girl. You can do this.”
Fawn shook her head determinedly. “No way. Mimi and I are staying with you. We’re going to help you find Mom.”
“Okay,” Ruthie agreed, wishing she knew if she was doing the right thing. But she could stand out here all night debating plans or visualizing scenarios, and in the meantime, her mother might be down there in trouble.
“Both of you just be careful, okay?” Katherine said. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
“You, either,” Ruthie said, thinking of the way Katherine had been studying the photo of Auntie’s instructions, how eager she’d seemed to send the girls away.
“What’s taking so long out there, ladies?” Candace shouted.
“Sorry,” Katherine called down into the hole, “couldn’t get the damn snowshoes off. I’m coming!” She shoved her pack in, then scrambled in herself, disappearing quickly.
“Mimi and me next,” Fawn said. Ruthie handed the flashlight to her little sister.
“I’ll be right behind you,” Ruthie promised, making sure the gun’s safety was on, just like Buzz had shown her, before tucking it into her coat pocket.
Fawn’s size definitely put her at an advantage. She slipped through the narrow passageway with ease, the flashlight beam illuminating craggy walls of dark, damp stone.
Ruthie took a deep breath and followed. The tunnel smelled like wet rocks, dirt, and … woodsmoke? No mistaking it—there was a fire burning somewhere close by. The opening was tight, and she squeezed through on her belly like a cork in a bottle, head low, eyes on her sister’s feet ahead of her. Ruthie’s heart raced, and she was breathing so fast she was afraid she might pass out.