Page 47 of This is Why We Lied

She called out the anatomy for her sake as much as Will’s, “The thenar muscles are innervated by the median nerve, here. The radial nerve provides sensation to the back of the hand from the thumb to the middle finger, here and here. I need to make sure they’re intact.”

“Okay.” His expression had turned stoic. He wanted this over with. “How do you check for that?”

“I’m going to touch your fingers around the outside, and you need to tell me if the sensation is normal or if something feels off.”

She could see the concern in his face as he nodded.

Sara lightly traced her finger along the outside edges of his thumb. Then she did the same with his index finger. Will didn’t offer any feedback. His silence was maddening. “Will?”

“It’s normal. I think.”

Sara felt some of her anxiety lessen. “I can’t get the blade out of the body. I’m going to lift your hand off the blade, but I need you to relax the muscles in your arms, keep your elbows soft, and let me do all the work. Don’t try to help me, okay?”

He nodded. “Okay.”

Sara held his thumb steady as she slipped the tips of her fingers underneath his palm. As slowly as she could, she started to lift upward.

Will hissed in air between his teeth.

Sara continued lifting until she had finally cleared the blade.

Will let out a long breath. Even though he was free, he kept his hand in the same position, fingers splayed, hovering in the air above the body. He looked at his palm. The shock had worn off. He was feeling everything now, realizing what had happened. He moved his thumb. Flexed his fingers. Blood dripped from the wound, but it was more of a trickle than a spray, which indicated that the arteries were intact.

“Thank God,” Sara said. “We should go to the hospital so they can look at this. There could be damage we’re not seeing. You’re caught up on your Tdap, but the wound needs to be thoroughly cleaned out. We can find someone to take us down the access road and drive back to Atlanta.”

“No,” Will said. “I don’t have time for that. Mercy wasn’t just stabbed. She was butchered. Whoever did this was frenzied, angry, out of control. The only way you hate somebody that much is if you know them.”

“Will, you need to go to the hospital.”

“I need to find Dave.”

8

Will followed Sara into the dining hall. The lights were off, but someone had left the music playing. He put out his arm to stop her from going toward the kitchen. Dave could be hiding out. He could have another knife.

Will went in first. He hoped that Dave had another knife. Will could take the murdering asshole with one hand. He’d spent nearly ten years at the children’s home holding himself back, but they weren’t kids anymore. He kicked open the kitchen door. Turned on the overhead lights. He could see clear back to the bathroom and into the office beyond.

Empty.

He scanned the knives hanging on the wall and sticking out of the butcher’s block. “Doesn’t look like any are missing.”

Sara didn’t seem to care about identifying the murder weapon. She headed toward the bathroom.

Will asked, “Is there a phone in the office?”

“No.” She pulled the first aid kit off the wall. “Wash both of your hands at the sink. You’re covered in blood.”

Will looked down. He’d forgotten that he’d used his shirt to cover Mercy. His bare chest was coated in red. Crimson lake water had stained his navy cargo pants, leaving darker splotches like a dalmatian. He turned on the kitchen faucet, saying, “We need to call local police, get together a search party. If Dave’s on foot, he could be halfway down the mountain by now. We’re wasting time.”

“We’re not doing anything until I stop the bleeding.” Sara opened the first aid kit on the kitchen counter. She squirted a liberal amount of dishwashing soap in her hands, then scrubbed at his forearms to get them clean. “Tell me why you’re so certain that Dave killed Mercy.”

Will hadn’t been expecting the question because it seemed obvious that Dave was guilty as hell. “You told me he already tried to strangle Mercy once today.”

“But he wasn’t at dinner. We didn’t see him anywhere in the woods or on the trails.” Sara grabbed a dishtowel and started cleaning the blood off his stomach. “Less than two hours ago, Mercy’s exact words were, ‘There’s hardly a person on this mountain right now who doesn’t want to kill me.’”

“You told me she walked that back. Tried to pretend like she was joking.”

“And then she was murdered,” Sara said. “You’re focusing on Dave for the obvious reason, but it could’ve been someone else.”

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