Page 116 of This is Why We Lied

“Half-tang skeleton inside the handle. Got it.”

“The killer sank the blade in to the hilt. I could tell from the marks that were left on her skin that there wasn’t a bolster. That’s the metal collar at the transition between the blade and the handle. I found slivers of plastic around some of the deeper wounds. Under the microscope, the color skewed red.”

Faith nodded again, but this time because she understood. “We’re looking for the red handle of a cheap steak knife with a thin metal strip sticking out of it.”

“Correct,” Sara said. “All the cottages have kitchens, but ours didn’t have any knives in it. And I don’t remember seeing anything that would match a red-handled knife in the family kitchen. It would be worth searching again with this new information. I’d say it’s about four inches long, maybe one quarter inch thick.”

“Okay, I should talk to Will to see how we’re going to proceed. You can run down the knife details for him.” Faith started to go, but she caught herself. “I ran into Frank. He’s worried about his wife. Apparently, she’s more hung over than usual.”

“I’ll check on her now.” Sara patted the duffel. “I brought up some medical supplies from the hospital in case we need them. Cecil’s in a wheelchair, but I didn’t see a van.”

Faith hadn’t realized that until now. “How do they get him into the truck?”

“I’m sure there are plenty of people around to help,” Sara said. “Should I meet you guys at the dining hall when I’m finished?”

“That works.”

Faith followed the wooden sign with the plate and silverware. She kept her eyes on the ground. The path was clear, but there was a lot of overgrowth on either side that could hide snakes and rabid squirrels. Or birds. Faith looked up. Branches hung down like fingers. A stiff wind rustled the leaves. She was certain an owl was going to attack her hair. She was relieved when the trail took a turn, but there was only more trail.

“Fucking nature.”

She continued down, her eyes pivoting from the ground to the sky for possible danger. The path did another bend. The trees were less on top of her. She smelled the kitchen before she saw it. Emma’s father was a second-generation Mexican-American whose spiteful mother loved cooking as much as she hated Faith, which was to say a lot. Coriander. Cumin. Basil. Cilantro. Faith’s stomach was growling by the time she made it to the octagonal-shaped building. She bypassed the platform that was hanging dangerously over a gorge and walked through the door.

Empty.

The lights were off. There were two long tables, one already laid for lunch. Giant windows on the far wall showed more trees. She was going to be sick of the color green by the time she left this place.

“Will?” she called. “Are you in here?”

She waited, but there was no response. All she could hear was cooking noises behind the swinging door to the kitchen.

“Will?”

Still nothing.

Faith pulled out the satellite phone again. She pressed the walkie button. “This is Special Agent Faith Mitchell with the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. Anybody out there?”

She silently counted to ten. Then twenty. Then she felt herself starting to worry.

Faith dropped the phone back into her purse and walked into the kitchen. The sudden light was almost blinding. Two boys were at the long stainless-steel table that went down the middle of the room. One was cutting vegetables. The other was hand-mixing batter in a large bowl. The chef had his back to Faith as he cooked on the stove. The radio was tuned to Bad Bunny, which was probably why they hadn’t heard her.

“Can I help you, ma’am?” one of the boys asked.

Faith felt her heart clench at the sight of him. He was just a kid.

“What do you need, officer?” the chef had turned around. This had to be Alejandro. He was incredibly handsome, but he also seemed incredibly irritated to see Faith, which was also reminiscent of Emma’s father. “I’m sorry to be abrupt, but we’re preparing lunch service.”

Faith needed to find her partner. “Do you know where Agent Trent is?”

The boy said, “He went down Fishtopher Trail.”

She let out a sigh of relief. “How long ago?”

His shoulders went up in an exaggerated shrug because he was a kid and he didn’t understand time.

Alejandro provided, “I saw him outside the window about an hour ago, I think. Then there was a second man dressed like you about half an hour later. The trail is behind the building. I’ll show you.”

Faith felt some of her tension lessen over the Will and Kevin sighting. She followed Alejandro toward the back, checking out the rest of the kitchen on her way. The knives looked expensive and professional. No red plastic handles. She saw a bathroom that connected to an office. She wanted to go through those papers, see if she could get into the laptop.

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