Page 131 of This is Why We Lied

“Come on back.” Keisha walked through to the bathroom. Two sets of toiletries were lined up by the basin, but still no eye drops. “Have you tried the liquor up here?”

“No.” Sara had really wanted to after the last twelve hours, but she said, “Will and I don’t drink.”

“I’d keep it that way. Monica had a rough night.” Keisha lowered her voice, though they were alone. “I saw Mercy talking to the bartender. I’m sure they were trying to cut her off. That shit is dangerous. You get somebody really sick up here, that’s a helicopter trip to Atlanta, and insurance doesn’t pay if you’re the one serving.”

Sara guessed that Keisha knew about liability from her catering business. “Did you hear anything last night? A noise or a scream?”

“Not even the damn toilet leaking.” Keisha sounded exasperated. “This was supposed to be a romantic escape, but we’re at that sexy stage in our marriage where I sleep with a fan on so I don’t have to hear Drew’s CPAP machine.”

Sara laughed, trying to keep things light. “When were you up here last?”

“When the leaves started to come out. I guess that was two and a half months ago, give or take. It’s beautiful that time of year. Everything’s in bloom. I’m really sad we’re not coming back.”

“Me, too.” Sara couldn’t help but do the math. Drew was squarely in the frame for Mercy’s pregnancy. “Did you guys ever spend any time with Mercy?”

“Not much this last trip because the place was packed,” she said. “Now, during our first stay, we had drinks with Merce after dinner maybe three or four times. She drank seltzer water, but she could be fun once the tension drained away. I know how that feels. When you’re in the service industry, people are always pulling at you. All day, you’re getting nibbled to death by ducks. Mercy understood how that feels. She let her hair down with us. I was glad we could give that to her.”

“I bet she appreciated it,” Sara said. “I can’t imagine how lonely it must be up here.”

“Right?” Keisha said. “All she’s got is her brother and that weirdo. Drew calls him Chuckles.”

“Did you notice anything between Mercy and Chuck?”

“Same thing that you saw last night,” Keisha said. “Chuck was here the first time we came. I guess the second time all the cottages were full, so he slept in the house. Papa was not happy with that, let me tell you. Neither was Mercy, come to think on it. She said something about keeping a chair against her door.”

“That’s strange.”

“It is now, but you know how you joke about those kinds of things.”

Sara did know. A lot of women used dark humor as a talisman to downplay fear of sexual assault. “Why doesn’t Papa like Chuck?”

“You’d have to ask him, but I doubt there’s any one reason,” Keisha said. “Being honest, Papa doesn’t have a neutral. He either loves you or hates you. No in between. I’d hate to be on the wrong side. He’s a hard man.”

“Did you ever get a chance to talk to Chuck?”

“What would I talk to him about?”

Sara had felt the same way. “And Christopher?”

“He’s sweet, believe it or not,” Keisha said. “Once you get past his shyness, he’s easy to be around. Not to have a drink with, but as a guide, he knows his shit. That boy loves fishing. He can tell you everything about the water, the fish, the equipment, the science, the ecosystem. He bored me to tears, but Drew loves that stuff. It’s good for him to get outside of himself every now and then. That’s why I’m so sad this place is ruined for us. I doubt they’ll be able to hold on to it without Mercy.”

“Can’t Christopher run the business?”

“You get a chance to see that equipment shed of his?” She waited for Sara to nod. “Drew calls it the Fish Palace. Everything nice and neat in its proper place, and that’s fine, because it makes Fish happy, but you can’t run a business like that unless you’re the only employee. People are unpredictable. They want to do their own thing. Shit goes crazy on a minute-by-minute basis. You’re juggling all these balls, freaking out about making payroll, dealing with customers who pull at you all day long, and then in the middle of it all the van breaks down or the toilet starts leaking. You’ve gotta roll with that shit or roll on out the door.”

Sara was familiar with the pressure. She had owned a pediatric practice in her former life.

“Let me tell you this, one time, Drew went into the shed to put his fishing pole back on the rack, trying to be nice and help out, right? And Fishtopher comes running in there all bent out of shape because he wants to make sure it’s put back correctly.” She shook her head at the memory. “The only business he can run is fishing in the morning and drinking scotch at night.”

Sara remembered Chuck’s tattoo. “Is he into scotch?”

“I don’t know what they’re into, and I don’t care. Once we get off this mountain, I’m never looking back.”

Sara found it interesting that the question had been about Christopher, but Keisha had thrown Chuck in there, too.

“What about my toilet?” Keisha asked. “You figure out the dripping noise?”

Sara had figured out Keisha knew more than she was letting on. “It’s probably the rubber flapper around the flush valve. It can wear out over time and let water seep through. If they don’t have a spare, you could move to one of the empty cottages.”

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