“How was the cliff climb? Did you see the green thingy, up high?”
“Yes.” His voice is as terse as Luciana’s. Apparently, everyone had a fun-filled afternoon.
“Who did the climbing?”
“I did. You were right. Too narrow for Bob, and Miggy’s afraid of heights.”
“What about Marty?” Because I could see the man scaling the Empire State Building if he thought it would help him find his son.
“Bob ruled him out. Told him he needed to stay below and help direct my path.”
“And Martin accepted this?”
“A chance to watch me suffer more? You bet.”
“You seem to have a complex on this subject.”
“What did Neil tell you?”
“What do you think?”
Scott doesn’t take the bait. He falls silent, then, abruptly: “I couldn’t do it. Follow the cliff trail? There’s this section, only way to continue is to jump.”
I nod, having seen it myself.
“I wanted to. I tried to. But every time I went to launch... I kept seeing Latisha, and all I could think was, what if I slipped and fell? What if she had to receive that phone call a second time? I couldn’t do that to her. I couldn’t... I couldn’t do that to me.”
I don’t say anything, letting the silence drag out. Soon enough:
“I want to do better,” he whispers. “I want to be better. You have no idea. Ever since that night...” A deep, shuddering sigh. “Goddammit.”
Again, I wait.
“I didn’t make it all the way up the path. I couldn’t retrieve whatever’s there. Marty screamed at me. Bob physically restrained him from attacking me. Then we felt the wind change, glanced to the south, and bolted out of there. Thank God.”
“Martin will want to go back.”
“Yep.”
“You?”
“I want to do better. I want to be better,” he repeats with a sad grimace. “Goddammit.”
“Did you brain Neil with a rock?”
“No! Why would I do that?”
“You tell me, because clearly you and your friends have been holding back.”
Scott shakes his head. “I didn’t attack Neil. I have no reason to hurt him. I found him already bleeding on the ground. Swear on my unborn child.”
“And the food bags?”
“No idea. Last night happened just as I said. I left my tent, thought I saw Tim, and took off into the woods, and then... you found me. And Luciana superglued my chest. You don’t think...” Scott pauses, finally turns toward me with wide eyes. “You don’t think it could’ve actually been Tim? That somehow, after all these years, he’s still alive?”
“Is that possible?”
“I don’t know. Maybe. Oh Jesus.” Scott sounds more terrified now than ever before.