Page 10 of Fight Or Flight

Amy looked up with worried eyes.

“Derek.”

three

Natalie tensed as the cab rounded the gradual bend where the country highway gave way to North Shore Drive and led into Mapleton. She wasn’t sure whether it was curiosity or adrenalin fuelling her discomfort. She tried to distract herself by brainstorming what day song she’d choose for this trip.

Day songs were always positive and upbeat, something that would stick with people forever. But this trip wouldn’t have a cheerful song. It called for something far more sinister that gave the listener a deep sense of impending doom.

She glanced out the window, and her eye snagged on a sign stuck in the grass on the side of the road. She sat up straighter and stuck her head halfway out of the window like a dog to get a closer look.

Lining each side of the street for at least a hundred metres were huge navy-blue campaign signs, one after the other. Framed in the centre of each sign was a pixie-like face with an elegant smile, surrounded by platinum-blond hair.

Natalie’s stomach plummeted down to her toes.

She’d hoped she’d never come face to face with Anne Monroe again—once was more than enough. But this was worse. It was as if the woman were waiting for her at the edge of town, begging her to turn back.

She sank down in her seat and dropped her sunglasses down over her eyes.

“Is there an election coming up?” she asked the cab driver.

“Yuuuup,” he drew out, peering at her through the rear-view mirror. “For town council. You know Anne?”

“No,” she said, looking away from his inquisitive stare. She cursed herself for giving Elizabeth’s address. It would have been better to be dropped off at some anonymous corner somewhere and walk.

He shrugged and turned his attention back to the road. “She’ll probably get re-elected for Mayor. She’s got my vote.”

Natalie hummed a polite agreement and turned to look out the window. She’d taken the same road a decade ago when she moved to Mapleton. Only instead of a cab, she’d been in the passenger seat of Elizabeth’s silver Lincoln, and instead of a suitcase, she’d had a duffle bag at her feet holding her mother’s prized possessions and a few boxes of clothes in the trunk.

She shook off the thought and reminded herself that she wasn’t a trapped seventeen-year-old with no options anymore. She was an independent twenty-seven-year-old who’d travelled the world and didn’t need anyone’s help. Thank you very much.

And she’d only be here for three days.

The cab meandered along North Shore Drive, past more campaign signs, making its way to the centre of town. It was as picture perfect as it had been a decade ago. The town had lined the street with decorative lamps. Each held a hanging basket, dripping with purple and red flowers. Benches sat along the sidewalks that families of the town had donated in their loved ones’ memories. Past the sidewalks were storefronts with flowerboxes and small patios where people sat, sipping their late afternoon coffee.

They stopped at the only street light in town, where North Shore Drive intersected with Main Street. Main Street started at the beach and climbed all the way up the escarpment back to the highway. Natalie looked right, toward the lake from the cab window, and became lost in the calm blue water sparkling in the sunlight.

She blinked and turned her head away from it, rolling her eyes. As a naive outsider, Mapleton had seemed idyllic. But Natalie knew better now. Mapleton would never be perfect because it was lacking something crucial to a person’s happiness.

Anonymity.

The light turned green, and the cab driver turned left, away from the lake toward the escarpment. They passed more perfect little stores coated in perfect little flowers until the landscape became more and more green. Finally, the wrought-iron gates that separated the Monroes from the rest of the world appeared, just at the base of the escarpment.

The driver turned left and pulled the car into the small section of driveway in front of the gates.

“You got a code or something?”

“Here’s fine.” She handed him some Canadian bills she got at the airport and hopped out of the car.

He followed her to the trunk and pulled her suitcase out, then squinted at her as he passed it over. “I was real sorry to hear about Liz. She was a great lady.”

“I know.”

“So you knew Liz, but not Anne?”

Natalie looked away, not liking where this line of questioning was going. “Thank you for the ride.”

She grabbed the handle of her suitcase and dragged it behind her through the deep gravel toward the gate. She couldn’t remember the code for the gate, so she pushed through the bushes and weeds around it until she got back to the gravel, then followed the winding driveway uphill toward the manor.

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