Cold Comfort: Friday, July 12, 2024 – Alyssa (2)

I grab for Truman’s hand, or maybe he grabs for mine, but I’m gripping his hard and feel like I could pounce on Henry and take him to the floor. “What do you mean, Aaron Gladiuex’s paid for her cabin?”

He shrugs, like of course an employee of Loon Lake would be concerned about an information leak. “Look, I’m a reporter, okay? I found the receipt. Aaron Gladieux paid for a cabin for July, for a single person, and basically it’s confirming he’s having an affair with Deschain.”

“You’re a reporter?” Jane snarls, although at least she doesn’t resist when Edgar takes the scissors from her and sets them aside.

“At this point I feel like it’s the least of our worries—” Henry starts in an absolutely aggravating just calm down tone.

“Emily isn’t Annabeth Deschain.” Truman’s hand shifts in mine to hold it more naturally, or maybe to ask me to stop trying to break his bones.

Henry blinks, then laughs. “You can’t know that. You don’t know who anyone is here.”

I take a deep breath, but fuck it. “I’m Alyssa Gladieux. Annabeth Deschain killed my baby sister. I’d know her anywhere.”

Edgar and Jane look at me with almost comically identical expressions: a raised eyebrow and then a sort of understanding nod, like it all falls into place. Henry, though, laughs again. “That doesn’t make any sense. You work here. Your dad wouldn’t need to pay for a month.”

“Wait, you came here specially because you thought one of us was Annabeth Deschain?” Jane counters. “You thought I could’ve killed a little girl?”

“No, of course not. I dismissed you straight off.” Henry’s still looking at me as he says it, which means he never even considered me in the first place. “You’re not really Alyssa Gladieux.”

“The point is, we have no idea why someone was trying to call Emily,” Edgar cuts in, “and why that phone call seems to have led to someone wanting all of our identities.”

“Or why Percy’s going around tying people up,” Jane adds, shaking her head. “Truman, do you always get such a bunch of law-breaking ruffians in the summer?”

“If we do, they hide it better. Lyss, your cabin phone’s probably still working, right?” he asks me.

I shrug. “I was in there most of the morning. Unless Percy’s broken in since.” It’s my turn to frown.

Truman groans. “Or done something to the main switchboard. I didn’t see anything, but that light was flashing, so we just took off for Jane’s.”

“Do we have any weapons?” Edgar wants to know before holding out his hands, palm up. “I’ve never fired real bullets. I’m just asking.”

“You’re not supposed to have any weapons,” Jane snaps. “It’s one of the things we signed.”

“Great, so Percy can get the rest of his stay revoked after he kills us,” Henry shoots back.

“Well, what did you bring that you’re not supposed to?” she retorts.

His hand goes to his chest before he realizes what he’s doing, but Edgar gets it first because he looks around and snatches up the pendant Henry usually wears. “Unbelievable,” he growls, examining it. “Recording device. Anything you’ve ever said to him is on the record.”

I slowly turn to look at Henry. “And you went after Emily.”

“What?” Honestly, he’s got such a dumb, blank look in his eyes.

“You zoomed in on Emily because you wanted to get her to confess it, didn’t you. Murdering Dani Jay.” I shake my head a little. “You just wanted to mine my family’s tragedy for even more headlines.”

“Alyssa—”

“She was a baby, Henry!” I’m almost vibrating. “Barely more than a baby, and they pulled her out of that hot tub—”

“Alyssa!” Truman’s arms go around me in a restraint, not a hug. “Not now!”

“Later,” Jane agrees, crossing her arms and keeping her eyes coolly fixed on Henry. “We’ll deal with him later.”

Truman doesn’t want to let me go. It’s like he knows I have half an eye on the scissors. “Your cabin, Lyss. We’ll stick together and all head to your cabin, okay?”

“And if her phone doesn’t work either?” Edgar asks.

He nods at me. “Her car keys are in her cabin, and her cell phone’s in her car.” And the parking lot’s quite a trek from my cabin if you take the path and the road, but if he can keep a straight line through the woods, he’ll get there quickly.

Well. If Truman decides to do that, he’s probably leaving the rest of us behind to barricade ourselves in and wait for the cavalry.

Edgar nods. “I’ll check and see if it’s clear.”

Um. Like it’s one of his roles?

He shakes his head at Truman when he tries to protest. “You’re the one who’ll have to go for the car if we need it, right? So we don’t want him picking you off if he’s out there.”

“I’m sorry, so you’re risking your life?” Jane counters, but Edgar shrugs and grins.

“I bet I’ve had more training than you.” But he frowns down at his brightly colored bathing suit. “Henry, I need to raid your closet.”

Henry doesn’t protest. He’s probably realized exactly how badly he’s outed himself. A reporter, really? Shouldn’t Jonathan have caught that? His real name’s got to be on a bunch of bylines. And the freaking necklace! I’ve seen him zoom in on Emily, engaging her in conversations, including …

It’s a good thing Truman’s right here, because I sort of sag against him. The dead kids conversation. The one I didn’t want Agatha walking in on. He used the dead kids to try to get Emily to confess to murdering Dani Jay. Dani Jay, who never got old enough to say my name right. She’d run to the door, somehow not falling despite being so tiny, little pudgy hands held out, yelling Yissa, Yissa! Christmases with her were the best since Mom died. Even that first year, when she was too young to have any clue what was going on. We all got together for it, and both of my brothers came home with their wives and kids, and it finally felt like family again.

This past Christmas was the epitome of hell on earth. Nobody came together. My brothers made excuses and didn’t even go with their wives’ families. They just didn’t want to come home. Dad and Dina separately told me it probably wasn’t a good idea to visit, and they never even got a tree.

Fucking Henry. We’re supposed to be figuring out how to heal around this wound that just won’t go away, and he came up here because he found out Dad paid for a cabin?

Wait. I look at Truman suddenly, because that part’s true. Dad paid for a cabin. It’s not just Percy and Jonathan and Lydia out there.

“We’ll call,” he says quietly in my ear, either reading it in my face or thinking of the same thing at the same time. “If your phone works, we’ll call.”

Except maybe we won’t, because if that call goes to 911, don’t they ask you to stay on the line until help arrives?

Edgar comes out in khakis that don’t quite fit, but he’ll blend in better. “I’ll signal for you to come if it’s clear,” he tells us, holding up his hand in the gesture he’ll use. “Alyssa first to unlock the door. One at a time. Don’t move until I say so.” He at least sounds like he knows what he’s doing, but Edgar’s used to knowing what everyone else around him is doing, too: hitting marks. Only shooting at the acceptable times. Not using real bullets. Truman nods, though, because apparently it sounds good to him. Edgar goes to the back door, opens it slowly, and makes sure I’ve got a hold of it and I’m watching before he slips out, trying to look everywhere at once.

---

Cold Comfort: Friday, July 12, 2024 – Henry (3), coming August 9