Харлан Кобен - The Boy from the Woods

“The text I dismiss,” Hester said. “If someone grabbed her, they could have taken her phone and sent anything.”

“Right.”

“But the clothes plus her past suggest she ran away.”

“Agree.”

“Either way — and I don’t know how to put this subtly—”

“Not your strong suit anyway, Hester.”

“—but this isn’t our business anymore. Unless you need the money.”

“I don’t.”

“So?”

“So two things,” he said.

“Let me guess,” Hester said. “Thing One: You met Naomi. You liked her. You want to help her, even if she ran away. You’re worried about her.”

“Yes.”

“And Thing Two?”

“You know Thing Two, Hester.”

There was a sigh. “Matthew.”

“He didn’t tell us everything that first time. We let it go when we found Naomi. The dad said she had bruises. Like someone hit her.”

“Oh come on, you don’t think Matthew—”

“Of course not. But I don’t think he’s told us everything either.”

“And you like the girl.”

Wilde thought about it. “Yes. And she’s alone. She has no one.”

“How about that teacher you were bedding?”

Wilde frowned. “Did you really say ‘bedding’?”

“You’d prefer ‘ shtupping ’?”

“Better than ‘bedding,’” Wilde said. “We can try Ava, but in the end she’s just a schoolteacher, not a relative or friend.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“I’m going to talk to Matthew.”

“Now? I wouldn’t push him.”

“I won’t. Do you have contacts with the phone company?”

“I may,” she said.

“Can you ping Naomi’s phone? Find out where it is?”

“I can try.”

“Or you can ask Oren to do it,” Wilde said, “after you bed him.”

“Funny.”

Wilde pocketed the phone. The woods were never silent. Some days he got all intuitive and insightful about that, about the effects of quiet without silence, but for him it was different. It wasn’t necessarily enjoyable — it was what he needed. He didn’t lose his mind when he went to the “big city” or anything like that. He liked the change sometimes. But this was home. If he stayed away too long — if he didn’t escape to this quiet for long periods of time — it was something akin to a diver and the bends.

Sounded like Zen-level bullshit. Maybe it was.

Matthew was waiting for Wilde in the kitchen.

“Mom’s not home,” Matthew said.

Wilde knew. Laila had told him she’d be out late. “Naomi is missing again.”

Matthew didn’t reply.

“Did you notice? At school or anything?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Shrug. “And I figured she’d run away or something. The last week has been brutal. I figured she needed a break.”

“You were very concerned last time.”

“And that ended up being nothing.”

“Why were you so concerned?”

Matthew shifted his feet. “I told you.”

“You got wind of this Challenge game?”

“Right.”

“Yeah, I’m not buying that, Matthew.”

His eyes went wide. “You think I’m lying?”

“Probably by omission. But yes.”

Matthew shook his head, feigning offense. Then he said, “It’s nothing.”

“Tell me anyway.”

“I don’t feel comfortable—”

“Then feel uncomfortable,” Wilde said.

“Hey, you’re not my father, you know?”

“Really?” Wilde gave him a hard gaze. “You want to play that card?”

Matthew looked down. His voice was soft. “Sorry.”

Wilde waited.

“I hurt her.”

Wilde felt his pulse pick up, but he stayed silent.

“There was this dance thing. Like a party.”

“When?”

“Two months ago.”

Matthew stopped.

After some time passed, Wilde said, “Where was the party?”

“Crash Maynard’s place. It was like a party, but it wasn’t really a party. It was more like a school function. A few years ago, a bunch of kids got wasted at a school dance, so we aren’t allowed to hold them in the gym anymore. So the Maynards volunteered to host. The whole class was there.”

“Naomi too?”

“The whole class, yeah.” Matthew kept his eyes on the floor.

Wilde folded his arms. “Go on.”

“Naomi brought a stuffed animal. A penguin. I think for her it was like a therapy pet or something, I don’t know. It wasn’t like she was being freaky about it. It was small. She kept it in her handbag. But she showed it to some of the girls. They started giggling about it. Anyway, Crash goes over and starts talking to her. He’s being all nice, showing her his stupid skull ring. Which means something is up. Anyway, it’s just to distract her. She’s smiling and so happy... and then two of the other guys run over and it’s like they purse-snatch her. She cries out and runs after them toward the woods behind the estate. Everyone’s laughing.”

Matthew paused.

“Including you?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think it’s funny.”

“But you see this happen?”

“I was talking to Sutton Holmes.”

Sutton Holmes. Wilde and Matthew don’t have too many of those man-to-mans, but Wilde knew about Matthew’s crush. The only person who had ever been in Wilde’s Ecocapsule was Matthew. When the boy needed to get away, Wilde brought him there. Something about the outdoors, the camping, the being one with nature, whatever label you wanted to use, it seemed to always lead to opening up.

“It’s dark by now,” Matthew continued. “The Maynards rented these portable lights like you see at an outdoor baseball game. Half the kids are carrying flasks, so they’re mixing in vodka and grain alcohol with whatever sweet concoction the Maynards are serving. But I’m watching the woods. I’m waiting for Naomi to come back. Five minutes passed, maybe ten. Then Kyle emerges from the woods. He’s holding up his hand. At first, I can’t see what’s in it, but when he gets closer” — Matthew shut his eyes — “it was the head of the stuffed penguin. Just the head. Like the stuffing is leaking out.”

Wilde felt his heart sink.

“Everyone is cheering.”

Wilde tried to keep the judgment out of his voice. “You?”

“You want to hear this or not?”

He was right. There would be time enough later. Matthew looked so small right now. Wilde reminded himself that Matthew was the little boy who lost his father in a car crash. He’d just been trying to fit in, something Wilde never quite got because he’d wanted the opposite for himself.

“I was pretty wasted by now.”

“Wasted meaning...?”

“Drunk.”

“High too?”

“No, I didn’t take any drugs. But I had a lot to drink. I know that’s never an excuse for anything, but I think it matters. I was stumbling around and somewhere along the way, as it got later and later, I realized that no one was leaving. See, a parent had caught on to the fact that a lot of us were wasted and figured it’d be safest if we stayed on the estate until we sobered up.”

Made sense, Wilde thought.

“So I’m watching Crash take out a lighter. He flicks it and there’s a flame. And then he sets Naomi’s penguin on fire. Just like that. He had this big smile on his face. He looked around, I think, because he wanted to see Naomi’s reaction, and I realized that she hadn’t come back since she chased those guys who took her penguin.”

Matthew grabbed an apple and moved into the living room. Wilde followed him.

“What happened next, Matthew?”

Matthew stared down at the apple, cradling it in his palm, and Wilde wondered whether he was seeing that penguin. “I wish I could explain how I felt.”

“Try.”

“Crushed. Depressed. Sutton was with Crash now. Couples were starting to hook up and disappear. I just felt, I don’t know, out of place and angry and stupid and I’m drunk so all that is just... so I go looking for her. For Naomi. It’s dark. But thanks to you, I know my way around the woods. I stumble at one point, and my face smacks a tree. I’m even dizzier. My lip is bleeding. And then I found her. She’s just sitting on a rock. I can see her profile, and in the moonlight, Naomi looks really pretty. I move closer. She doesn’t turn, even though she has to hear me. There are no tears on her face. Her eyes are dry. I ask her if she’s okay. She says, ‘It’s just a stupid stuffed toy.’ And she seems to mean it. Like she really doesn’t care. I move a little closer, and my legs kinda give way, and I collapse next to her. We’re by that brook behind the Maynards’. I guess the noise is supposed to be nice and all, but you know what I remember thinking at the time?”