The light wasn’t great, but Abigail felt pretty sure the figure had long hair, which didn’t mean much, but whoever it was also had very narrow shoulders. If it was a woman, then it had to be Mellie.
The more she thought about it, the more she was convinced it was Mellie. It made sense that as an employee she would sleep in the lodge, and the room next to hers was most likely a bathroom.
Abigail couldn’t decide what to do, and then suddenly she heard the muffled sound of a toilet being flushed, and the person was back in the hallway. Moving as quietly as possible, she ran forward, quickly seeing that it really was Mellie, who was now watching Abigail approach.
“Shh,” Abigail said, holding a finger in front of her lips as she got to Mellie, who looked confused and half-asleep.
“Ab—” Mellie started.
“They killed Jill,” Abigail whispered, interrupting. “Her husband just beat her to death with a rock. I saw the whole thing.”
Mellie was pale in the dim light, her eyes wide. “I can’t help you,” she said, stammering a little. “You need to get away from here.”
“I can’t. That’s what I’m telling you. I was a witness to a murder.”
“I’m sorry,” Mellie said, taking a step backward. “No one here can help you.”
“Listen to what I’m telling you. I’ve been drugged and beat up. It was some sort of elaborate joke, but then Alec Greenly really did kill his wife. I saw the whole thing.”
Mellie was shaking her head, her eyes darting, as though the two women were being watched. “I believe you,” she said, her voice now a whisper as well. “Everyone who works here knows the things they do. But listen to me: no one here will help you.”
“I’m not asking about someone else, I’m asking about you.”
Mellie was shaking her head again, and her chin had begun to quiver. “There’s nothing …”
She stopped speaking because the front door of the lodge had swung inward, and the beam of a flashlight was slicing across the great hall. Mellie gripped Abigail’s arm and pulled her into a narrow bedroom, dark except for the moonlight coming through a large screened window. “Go out the window onto the roof. It’s only about a five-foot drop to the ground.” She was raising the screen, carefully, so as not to make any noise.
“Can’t I hide here?” Abigail whispered.
“I can’t. No. Please leave. I won’t tell them you were here, but that’s all I can do.”
Abigail thought she heard footsteps on the stairs that led up to the second level, and she swung a leg through the window, sliding out onto a slightly angled metal roof. She carefully worked her way down to the edge and saw that Mellie was right, it was only a short drop. She gripped the edge of the gutter and lowered herself down as she heard the screen sliding back into place. It was quiet outside, lighter than it had been in the lodge. The moon, not covered by clouds, allowed her to see fifty yards toward the tennis courts, surrounded by woods, and to her left was the road that led away from the camp and toward the airfield. She skirted the building, moving to her left, until she got to its edge, then ran low and fast across the road and into the woods on the other side.
The ground here began to slope down toward the pond, but instead of heading in that direction she picked her way through the trees toward the back side of the row of bunks. She heard a shout behind her, probably the man who had nearly discovered her in the lodge, but she didn’t think he’d have any idea which direction she’d gone. As she moved through the woods, she saw the beam of another flashlight sweep across the surface of the pond. She kept going until she reached the back of the first bunk, wondering if all of them were unlocked, imagined that they were. Her plan was to get inside one of them, so long as they were empty, and to hide either underneath a bed or in a closet. Eat her food, try to get some sleep. If she could survive through the next day, then she’d have another night at her disposal, and she had already formed a plan, weak as it was, for how she might actually get off the island.
But she needed to make it to tomorrow night for that to happen.
She needed a hole to hide in.
She recognized the back deck of her own bunk, decided to try the bunk directly next to it, then changed her mind.
No one would think she’d return to her own bunk, would they?
CHAPTER 29
Maybe her own bunk was the best place to be. And then she remembered the closet, the one that Bruce was using, and the extra space toward the side, the alcove with the shelving. She climbed the three steps to the deck and opened the door. It was dark, but she knew the layout. Even so, she stood for a moment, getting used to the blackness, listening to make sure she was alone. Before hiding she thought it would be a good idea to use the bathroom, and maybe to get some water. She peed first, the sound of it thunderous in her own ears, then forced herself to flush. Afterward, she stood in the bathroom, waiting to see if the sound had given her away. But no one came. No alarm went off.