Page 143 of This is Why We Lied

“Christopher loves the water. Did you know there’s a FishTok?”

“My father is on it.”

“So is Christopher. He’s really into rainbow trout. Let’s start here.” Faith pointed to the area where Mercy’s body had been found. “Lost Widow Trail links the bachelor cottages and the dining hall. That’s the way you guys went with Nadine to get to Mercy’s crime scene. Will ended up taking the same trail when he was running toward the first and second scream. You following?”

Sara nodded.

“You can see the trail kind of meanders around the ravine, which is why it takes about ten or fifteen minutes to get down. But there’s a faster way from the dining hall to the bachelor cottages that’s not on the map. Alejandro told me about it. They call it the Rope Trail. I found the ropes, and basically it’s a controlled fall down the side of the ravine. If Mercy was running for her life, that’s the route she would’ve taken. Alejandro estimates it would take about five minutes to get down. I’ll need Will to help me time it out. We can use it to backstop whatever story Christopher comes up with.”

“So, you’re saying the first scream, the howl, came from the dining hall, and the last two screams came from the bachelor cottages.” Sara looked at the map. “That makes sense, but last night, in the moment, I could only tell that the two screams came from this general direction. The way sound travels here is strange because of the elevations. The lake is in a caldera.”

Faith looked through her notes. “You were at the compound with Jon when you heard the second scream for help?”

“Yes. We had a brief conversation, then I heard the scream for help. There was a pause, then another scream—please. Jon ran back into the house. I went to look for Will.”

“Back into the house,” Faith repeated. “So, when you first saw Jon, he was coming out of the house?”

“I didn’t recognize him at first because it was so dark. He was walking down the stairs with a backpack. He fell to his knees and vomited.”

“What was the conversation?”

“I asked him to sit on the porch and talk. He told me to fuck off.”

“Sounds like a drunk teenager,” Faith said. “You were looking at him when you heard the two screams, though, so that’s Jon off the list.”

Sara looked startled. “Was he ever on it?”

Faith shrugged, but as far as she was concerned, every male up here but Rascal was on it.

“Amanda told me that she wants to get a statement from Jon,” Sara said. “He could help with the timeline. After the scene at dinner, Mercy would’ve checked on him, at least.”

“Maybe not,” Faith said. “She could’ve been giving him space.”

“Either way, I don’t imagine he’ll be much help. He was probably too drunk to remember anything.” Sara pointed at the map. “I can help you identify where everyone else should’ve been. Sydney and Max, the investors, were in cottage one. Chuck was in cottage two. Keisha and Drew are in cottage three. Gordon and Paul are in five. Monica and Frank are in seven. The Wi-Fi area covers all of them, so Mercy could’ve made the calls to Dave from any of these cottages. According to Paul, she was on the trail at 10:30.”

“Paul Ponticello sounds like Pippa Pig’s pal.” Faith turned back the pages to find the timeline. “Whatever happened must have kicked off at 11:10, right? Mercy called Dave five times in the space of twelve minutes. You don’t do that unless you’re frantic, scared, angry, or all three. Mercy left the voicemail at 11:28, so we know she was talking to the killer by then. She said, ‘Dave will be here soon. I told him what happened.’”

“What happened?”

“That’s what I need to find out,” Faith said. “But let’s assume that Christopher is the murderer. He kills Mercy, takes out Chuck, frames Drew, which shuts down Keisha, easy peasy lemon squeezy.”

Will said, “It’s complicated.”

Faith turned around. He was standing in the doorway with his bandaged hand over his heart. She knew Will wasn’t speaking ironically. Most crimes were very straightforward. Only comic book villains relied on dominos falling in the right order to take out the right people.

Faith told Will, “Dave’s at the main house. Came up on a dirt bike.”

Will didn’t respond. Sara had returned with a glass of water. She held up two pills. Will opened his mouth. She dropped them in, then gave him the glass. He drank the water. He gave her back the glass. Sara went into the kitchen. Faith folded the map and pretended like none of this was weird.

Faith asked, “Any word on whether forensics was able to save Mercy’s notebook?”

She had asked Sara the question, but Sara was looking at Will. Which was odd, because forensics was Sara’s department.

Will gave a tight shake of his head. “No word on the notebook yet.”

“Okay.” Faith tried to ignore the weirdness. “What about the pregnancy? I know the preliminary autopsy didn’t rule sexual assault in or out, but are we thinking Christopher could be the father?”

Sara looked horrified, but she still didn’t speak.

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