Page 101 of Into the Dark, We Go
The Sheriff’s face tightened. "I can do it. It’s no problem," he insisted. "I’m headin’ that way myself. You wouldn’t want to keep Emily waitin’, would you? After all, you’re all she has now."
If it had only been a panicked suspicion before, now I was certain: the Sheriff was behind the disappearances. He killed Duane and Nick’s mom. He did something to Lucas. He made people vanish without a trace. He was tied to whatever dark secret lingered in these woods, that eerie, dead clearing hidden behind the cryptic symbols.
Who else could have accessed the hotel so easily? Who else had the power to cover up murders for years? But why? Was it really because of that stupid book? Was he coming after me now because of some misguided belief in magic? Because I got too close to figuring it out?
No matter his reasons, his intentions were unmistakable. He was threatening us.
Mr. Whitman didn’t flinch. With deliberate slowness, he reached into his pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and took off his round glasses. He meticulously wiped them, removing everysmudge. Once he’d finished, he returned the handkerchief to his pocket and settled his glasses back onto the bridge of his nose. Only then did he break eye contact with the Sheriff to look back at me.
I held my breath, scared he’d get into his truck and drive away.
"Please," I pleaded quietly.
The Sheriff’s face twisted into a scowl. "Fine," he spat after a moment that seemed to drag on forever. He turned to me, twitching with malice. "Just tryin’ to help."
I nodded, my fingers twitched at my sides. "Much appreciated."
Mr. Whitman gave me a reassuring smile. "That’s it, then. Hop on in."
I slipped into the passenger seat of his ageing pickup. The leather was creased and worn, like the lines on Robert’s face. A pine-scented air freshener swung from the rearview mirror. Without a word, he turned the key in the ignition, and the engine rumbled back to life.
"Thank you," I whispered.
Robert didn’t turn his head. "Nothin’ to thank me for."
We pulled away from the side of the road, leaving the Sheriff’s imposing figure in the distance. The dense trees blurred past us, their shadows growing long and dark as dusk began to settle over the woods. I glanced repeatedly at the side mirror, dreading the possibility of the Sheriff’s cruiser re-emerging.
"Is everythin’ alright with you?" Robert asked after I flinched for the tenth time.
"I’m fine," I lied, hesitant to burden him with the truth.
"Where should I drop you off? Where are your friends staying?"
Why did he say ‘friends’ as if he knew there were more of us? He’d only seen me and Mitchell before.
"They’re in town, waiting for me," another lie. "Just drop me off by the town square. I’ll find my way around from there. Thanks."
The last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon. Robert flicked on the headlights, twin beams cutting through the growing gloom. My mind raced, trying to think of my next move.Where should I go once I arrive in Black Water?Mathilda’s?But what if she was the one who had lured me into the Sheriff’s hands? On the phone, she made me swear I’d go straight to her shop. She couldn’t have known I’d stopped by the cabin.
"So, you were there when it happened to Lucas?" Robert asked, his voice cutting through my frantic thoughts like a knife.
"What do you mean?"
"When he vanished," Robert pressed. His calmness threw me off. When we arrived at his house, he and Emily had been too shaken to talk about it.
I shifted uncomfortably. "I mean, no one saw what happened."
"Of course, they didn’t. No one ever does," Robert muttered in a disconcerting tone.
I sat there, tense and unsure how to respond.
Then, after a long pause, Robert spoke again. "He was everythin’ to his mother and me. Our only child. Our boy. His mother is a simple woman. She’s not like me. It’s much harder for her to understand."
What was he talking about?
"I’m sorry," I said softly, then added, "I loved Lucas, too."
He responded with a gentle smile, his eyes flicking to me. "I know."
