She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “Friend?”
“Sue Hill,” he clarified.
“Sue wasn’t my friend. She went behind my back—” Lily bit off her words. Started again. “If you think she’s innocent, she’s not.” She was blinking fast, holding back tears, her bravado slipping to reveal a very frightened girl.
“Look, Lily,” he began, but she shook her head.
“I’m done. I’m not going back there. You’ll never see me again. I don’t want to talk to you or anyone—and Lara shouldn’t, either.”
“Do you think Lara is in danger?”
“I don’t know!” Lily cried. She kept backing up.
“Who got to Sue?” he asked. “Give me a name, Lily.”
Her mouth dropped open in shock, and she shook her head.
“Lily—”
She turned and sprinted away. Steel considered going after her, but—
“You bothering that girl, Steel?”
Hell. Steel stiffened and slowly turned around. It was Eric, and he’d seen Lily run away from him. “I’m not bothering anyone,” he snarled and backtracked to his truck, Eric watching him every step of the way. Damn it; he’d been so close to getting an answer.
Would Eric report what he’d seen to Stella? Probably.
Steel wanted to find Stella and tell her the truth of the matter, but instead he made himself get into his truck and drive away. He should have headed for Silver Falls, but at the last minute he turned and went the other way, taking a familiar road toward the last place he should be going. He couldn’t explain himself to Stella, couldn’t stop Eric from blackening his name, but maybe he could show her who he was in a different way.
“All set for this?” Monica asked Olivia and Stella that evening.
“I think so.” Stella surveyed the folding tables and chairs they’d set up in Runaway Lodge’s cavernous interior. It was a little musty in here, devoid of the furniture she remembered from her youth. Monica had told her she’d sold most things when she’d shuttered the place over a decade ago. “I wonder how many people will show up?”
“I expect more than you think out of sheer curiosity. You two aren’t the only ones who’ve told me they remember coming here when they were younger. I wish it was in better shape.” Monica made a face. “Can’t help feeling like maybe I was hasty getting rid of all the old things we used to have. A lot of it had seen better days, though. I figured I’d sell the place and the new owner would want to spiff it up.”
“But you didn’t sell it,” Olivia pointed out.
“I meant to. Just never could make myself do it. Keeping up the lodge was always something of a labor of love. I got a large settlement when James’s plane went down just after the boys were born; that’s what I’ve lived on for the most part, but even though Runaway Lodge isn’t a money machine, it was a solid business in its day. Parts of this place date back over a hundred years. I wanted to preserve it for my boys. Then they grew up and left, and I—well, I guess I needed a break.” The older woman squared her shoulders. “But the past is the past. Now we’re talking about the future. How’s your training going for the agility test, Stella?”
“Not as well as I’d hoped.” It was Stella’s turn to sit a little straighter. “I’ve been waiting for someone to help me, and now I’ve decided I’m going to help myself. I need to set up an obstacle course at home that’s as much like the one I’ll be tested on as possible and practice. It can’t be that hard.”
“Like they say, if you want something done right, do it yourself.” Monica looked off into the distance, and Stella wondered what she was thinking about. Her sons, maybe? Was she afraid they wouldn’t come through to fix up the lodge? Or maybe wouldn’t come home at all?
“That’ll be the first of the volunteers,” Monica said, snapping out of her reverie when the sound of an approaching vehicle reached them. She stood up and crossed to the door, Olivia close behind her. Stella hung back, letting Olivia be the face of the operation. As people filed into the lodge, however, soon she was greeting old friends and acquaintances from Chance Creek—and a few from Silver Falls, too.
Twenty minutes later Olivia stood in front of a small crowd of people sitting around the tables while Stella handed out cans of pop and plates of finger food.
“I’m so happy to see everyone here today,” Olivia said. “As you all know, Chance Creek has had a high incidence of overdose deaths recently, and we aren’t the only ones facing this problem. Opiates have flooded the country and are much too accessible to everyone—including our youth. I’d like to introduce Joan Wexler. She works at Chance Creek’s detox and stabilization program, and she has a few words to say about what they need to help with the problem we’re facing.”
People shifted in their seats as Joan stepped up to the head of the room, and Stella knew they thought they were going to get a lecture. Monica’s idea to serve some food had been a good one. At least that gave people something to do while they listened.
If they expected dry statistics from Joan, they were mistaken, however. Joan probably had enough experience speaking to people about her work to know that was the best way to lose their interest.
“I won’t keep you long. You already know there’s a problem,” she said, gazing from one to the other of them. “And you know Chance Creek’s youth are just as much at risk as the adults who live here. More, maybe. You all remember being kids, right? Don’t get me wrong, the country is a wonderful place to grow up, but when you’re seventeen and you’re watching TV, or seeing influencers on social media talking up their exciting big-city lives, you start to feel left out, don’t you?
