I’m right, the killer will show themselves before it’s over.”
She stared at him for a moment before she shook her head. “I’d be careful if I were you. A lot can happen in two days.” And three nights, she thought.
But she wasn’t sure if she was warning him—or herself.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
JEN HAD HOPED that Claude would make the first move. When he hadn’t, she decided she had to. “Smoke,” she said as an excuse to move over by Claude. “It was in my eyes.” He didn’t look up as she joined him. All his attention seemed to be on the fire. He looked as bored as she felt. She wondered what he was thinking about. Was he remembering that summer? Did he remember what they did back in the woods that first night? Or was he thinking about Megan?
“Hey,” she said and gave him a nudge with her hip, thinking maybe she could get his mind off the woman.
He looked over at her in surprise as if he hadn’t noticed her join him. He blinked now as if trying to place her, his brow furrowing, his eyes a little unfocused. She didn’t think he was drunk. More like lost in his own dark well of thoughts.
She felt her confidence spring a leak when it became clear that he didn’t remember her. She’d given herself to him. She’d been his first, and he didn’t remember her. “Jen. Jennifer, if you prefer.” Which he had, ten years ago. “Mullen.”
Recognition came into his eyes, and he quickly looked away as if wanting to forget her. Why had she thought what they’d done ten years ago had meant something to him just because it had her?
Her punctured ego deflated like a burst balloon. She raised the nearly empty wine bottle to her lips and fought tears. She’d always sold herself short. She had the gall to give Shirley a hard time about Lars. They were both losers. That was why Jason had left them out when he went around the campfire telling how everyone else had become successes.
“Looks like you could use a beer,” Jason said, suddenly beside her. He took the empty wine bottle from her and handed her a beer can. She felt his other hand rest gently on her shoulder. “There’s something you have to see,” he said and drew her back away from the fire, away from Claude, away from the others and her embarrassment.
He led her into the woods, and she followed, too shattered to resist. She just assumed he planned to take advantage of her. She realized that she would let him, and that made the tears come again.
They’d gone just far enough into the woods that they couldn’t be heard or seen when he turned and looked at her. “You okay?”
She realized she was sobbing silently, tears streaming down her face. Jason Underwood had come to her rescue? She’d never thought of Jason as the least bit heroic. She’d always thought he was a jerk. “I think I’ve had too much to drink. It’s making me melancholy.” She swallowed, the sobs juddering to a stop. “Or maybe it’s Megan’s ghost screwing with me.” She made a swipe at her tears and tried to smile.
“This is hard on all of us,” he said, and she laughed.
She hadn’t meant to and quickly added, “Not you. You’re in your element.”
He looked back toward the fire. “Don’t fool yourself. I’m just good at not showing any real emotion. Don’t you wonder why everyone came back?”
She shrugged. “They didn’t want the rest of us to think that they killed her.”
He shook his head. “Would you really care if we all thought you’d killed her?”
Jen considered that for a moment and then laughed. “You’re right. I wouldn’t care.”
“Obviously some came back to show that they’d not only survived but also thrived in spite of what happened that summer,” Jason said.
She followed his gaze back toward the glowing fire, thinking about that. She knew her reason for wanting to come to the reunion. It had nothing to do with Megan. “What about you?”
“Me?” Jason continued to stare in the direction of the campfire and the dark silhouettes of the former summer workers that could barely be seen through the pine boughs. “I just came back to see what happens next.” He finally looked over at her. “I suspect for most of them, Megan’s just an excuse. Except maybe for whoever killed her. I would imagine that person wants to make sure no one ever knows