Should she run into the deep woods down near where the bunks ended? Or toward the pond and around it to where the old girls’ camp was? Or should she double back around the lodge, try to hide in the building with the swimming pool, or in the lodge itself?
She ran across the front of the lodge, wondering if it was empty, if everyone on the island who hadn’t been to the ceremony was asleep in their beds. She was still wearing her Fitbit and checked the time. It was just past one in the morning. She thought she heard a voice behind her but didn’t dare look back, and when she got to the lodge’s farthermost side she cut right, deciding that doubling back was the best option. It would keep her away from the open lawn where they could see her, and maybe the move was unexpected enough that she’d get away with it.
She was also already winded, her lungs burning and her limbs weak. At the back of the main lodge she stopped for a moment, listening to the night and not hearing anything. Deciding to take the risk, she moved quietly up the back wooden steps and tried the rear door of the lodge. It swung open and she stepped inside into the dark.
CHAPTER 28
She stood as still as possible at the side of the lodge’s great hall. It was dark, except for a light from the balcony level that cast down, painting the wooden floor with a few yellow bars. Abigail thought that it was a light kept on all the time. At least during the nighttime hours. The lodge was silent, no voices, no sound of movement. She told herself that if someone entered through the front doors, she could slip quietly back through the hallway she’d come in and make her way down through the tunnel that led to the swimming pool. From there she could exit back out into the night and enter the woods.
But for right now she thought that she was alone in the lodge, and that she might be alone here for a little while. They’ll be looking for me outside, she thought. Scouring the woods. Maybe this was all part of the plan—to kill one woman and let the other escape so that they could hunt her. But Abigail didn’t think so. She’d watched Alec murder Jill, and she’d watched the reaction of the other men. It was not supposed to have happened. They’d find a way to cover it up, of course, but that meant Abigail was a witness. They would need to find her.
The panic began to rise from her stomach up to her throat, and she told herself to breathe, told herself that she was still alive.
Not only that, but she had done something smart, hadn’t she, by turning around and hiding in the lodge? She’d fooled them, temporarily.
She wondered what to do next. The thought of running exhausted her. Whatever drugs they’d given her were still in her system, weighing her down, making her thoughts fuzzy. Also, as she kept reminding herself, there was nowhere to run to. She was on an island, and she didn’t trust anyone on it. Not the other guests, nor the detective, nor the staff members. Maybe she trusted Mellie, who’d at least tried to warn her, but that didn’t mean Mellie could do anything to help. So maybe the best move was to hunker down and hide, use time to her advantage. If they couldn’t find her they’d panic. Maybe they’d make a mistake. Still, she knew that if she wanted to do that—to go to ground, so to speak—she needed food.
Without thinking too hard about it, she walked through the dining room, then pushed through the swinging double doors into the kitchen. It was dark except for under-lighting below the cabinets, just enough so that she could make out the gleaming configuration of high-end kitchen equipment. On the back wall she saw two large refrigeration units and moved in that direction.
Inside the first one she spotted a hunk of cheese wrapped in cellophane, plus a bag of apples. She added the cheese to the apple bag and took it with her, grabbing the largest butcher knife she could find on her way back through. She had food and a weapon and realized that she also needed water. Deciding she didn’t want to stay inside the lodge any longer than