“Who?”
Stevie’s mind was going too fast to explain. All the threads, the wires, the tangled mess of stuff—it was connecting in her head in a way that she could not articulate.
“I’ll know soon,” she said.
When they reached the camping area, Stevie staggered out of the car and immediately walked to the wooded path that looped the lake. “We have to walk around,” she said.
“Where are we going?”
“Over there,” she said, indicating Point 23.
They began the long tramp around the lake, Stevie’s body aching the entire way. The force at which she had hit the water had strained all her muscles, and her lungs and throat still burned. Her sneakers were still waterlogged and squelched with every step. Every once in a while, Stevie would dip off the path to get a clear view of the water.
“I’m looking for my backpack,” she said. “I had to take it off in the water. Either it sank or someone recovered it.”
“Does it matter? It’s just a backpack.”
“I had Sabrina Abbott’s diary,” she said. “I found it. I didn’t have a chance to read it, but I found it.”
“You found it? Where?”
“Inside a turtle at Allison’s house. I would have read it already, but someone tried to kill us.”
“So you were right about Allison.”
“Looks that way,” she replied.
The backpack was nowhere to be seen.
They had reached the space where the woods peeled back and the point jutted out in front of them, in all its terrible glory. Stevie’s head began to swim as she approached it. She backed up several paces and got on her hands and knees, picking through the undergrowth and tree roots with her good hand.
“You think you can find a bullet?” he asked.
“Maybe . . .”
David got down on the ground as well, examining the earth. Stevie paused in her efforts for a moment to turn and have a look at him combing the dirt with his fingers. He was a good one. A weird one. A difficult one. But he always came through.
“Someone at the camp may have a metal detector,” he said. “I could go back and ask.”
Stevie returned to her examination of the forest floor. She felt the ground, digging in with her fingers.
“You sounded mad when I found you guys last night,” David said.
“I think I was.”
“We both have problems. Serious ones.”
Stevie suddenly flattened herself on the ground on her back. She stretched out, looking at the blue sky above.
“Did you find one?” David asked.
“Nope.”
“You okay?”
“Yep.”
“Tired?”
“Yep. But there are a few things I have to do today.”
“Like tell the police someone shot at you? Don’t worry, I already know the answer to that one. I say these things for my own amusement.”
“I need to have a Think Jam,” she replied. “And I need Janelle to make a craft. Ask me why.”
“Are you a hundred percent sure you didn’t crack your head?”
“Thank you for asking,” she said, looking over at him and smiling. “I’ll tell you why—because it’s what Frances Glessner Lee would do. It’s time to show Barlow Corners a nutshell.”