Page 84 of She Doesn't Have a Clue
“Aunt Rebecca was a big game hunter when she was younger,” Cassidy explained. “Used to take a safari trip every year. PETA protested year-round. Eventually she got tired of the long flights with poor legroom so she had the game shipped to her. Fluffy was the last animal she brought to Hempstead Island, but he was a clever one. She tracked him for months, but Fluffy was always one step ahead. He got into the house once and tore up an entire salon of her animals. He’s the one that got away. Now he’s going to eat your friend.”
Kate gasped as another missing puzzle piece locked into place. “Fluffy is the Deer Shredder!”
Cassidy gave her a wild look. “What?”
“How is that the weirdest thing I’ve said this weekend?” Kate whispered to herself. But she shook off the realization in favor of more pressing issues. “We can’t leave her out there. Abraham, can we organize a search party of anyone with, I don’t know, wilderness experience? Surely Rebecca knew some big-cat wranglers in her time?”
“Oh no,” Abraham said, shaking his head and cutting his hands through the air viciously. “This is far worse than the weekend I spent on a certain tech billionaire’s private island in a certain tropical archipelago when the groom wanted to walk down the aisle to a dubstep song and the bride was so high she couldn’t pronounce her own name during the vows. I amdonetrying to salvage this weekend. I draw the line at pursuing a murderer through a mountain lion’s hunting territory.”
“But she won’t make it through the next hour, much less through the night,” Kate said. “She might be a murderer, and she’s definitely a bad friend, but she doesn’t even know there’s a cougar out there. We at least need to warn her, give her a chance to return to the house and face her fate here.”
Abraham crossed his arms, looking her down resolutely. “Then youdo it. She’s your friend, after all, and technically not an invited guest for the weekend anymore. So, she’s out of my purview.”
“Cassidy?” Kate said, turning to the young woman in desperation. “You know this island, don’t you?”
“She murdered my aunt and poisoned my sister,” Cassidy said flatly.
“Fair point, fair point,” Kate said. She looked around the gathered guests, who suddenly found the wooden paneling on the massive front doors fascinating. Nobody would make eye contact, much less jump at the chance to go track Marla down. It was up to Kate to save her.
“I wish I knew where Jake was,” Kate muttered. “He’d know what to do.”
“I know where Jake is,” Spencer said, raising a hand. “I ran into him when we were searching the house.”
“You did?” Kate said, wheeling on him in surprise. “Where?”
“Eh, he asked me not to tell you,” Spencer said, giving her an apologetic shrug.
“And you listened to him? Why?”
“Because we’re mates now,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Kate sighed. “Do you think you can go ask your mate to help, then? Apparently, I’m going after Marla, and he’s the only person I know who might actually be able to save us if the cougar finds us.”
“I’ll ask, but I won’t push,” Spencer said with a sniff. “I think you really hurt his feelings. He seemed pretty broken up.”
“Great.” Kate sighed, turning back toward the tree line. “If I get mauled by a cougar, I’ll consider it my due justice.”
Chapter Forty
Kate made it no farther than five feet into the underbrush before she realized what a terrible idea it had been to go after Marla. She had no way to defend herself, no flashlight to cut through the rapidly descending darkness; she didn’t even have a pair of sturdy boots or jeans to protect her from the scrubby brush. Jake would know what to do, what tools to bring, probably which plants were safe to eat, where to step and what to avoid.
If she survived this cougar encounter—which was, let’s admit it, extremely doubtful at this point—she swore she would tell him the truth. About her feelings, what she wanted, what she hoped for. She couldn’t expect him to meet her there, but she could trust herself enough to say them. To want for things, even if they felt dangerous and scary.
“Speaking of dangerous and scary,” she muttered, squinting to see through the heavy tree cover. The light had grown distressingly thin, nearly nonexistent, and she could see only the tree trunks closest to her. She wasn’t sure of the exact protocols when there was a cougar on the loose, but she figured shouting Marla’s name and drawing attention to herself wasn’t it.
So, Kate pushed on. The less light she had to work with, the slowerher progress. The rain had mostly abated by then, but the trees were still heavy with rainfall that chose the creepiest moments to crash over Kate’s head. Several times she yelped, swiping at pine needles and twigs that sluiced down her neck.
“Okay, I change my mind,” she said after what felt like hours, her hair an absolute wreck and her teeth chattering. “Marla, if you’re out here, I’m leaving you to the wilderness. You like to write about haunted forests and stuff, you’ll fit right in.”
Kate paused, looking around, trying to tell one tree from another, or remember which direction she came from. She was quickly devolving into a panic over how to get back to the house when a twig snapped to her left, followed by the rustle of leaves. Kate made a strangled sound, going rigid, hoping the fear sweat prickling her underarms made her smell less appealing to any predators that might be nearby.
“Marla?” she called out, her voice tight and high. Her only answer was another twig snapping, and something in her snapped in response. “Fluffy?”
“Shut up!” came a hissing voice, before Marla stumbled out of the brush, her dress tattered along the hem, her boots caked in mud. “There’s a motherfuckingcougarout here!”
“I know,” Kate hissed back. “That’s why I’m here, to rescue you.”
“With what?” Marla looked at her with wild eyes, red scratches across her cheeks from what Kate hoped were the tree branches. “Do you have a gun?”