Chapter 7: Marlow Hall

The line above the signature said: Party of 3, all out, no one left on trails.

Joanna had written it in her round, careful hand, with a small circle over the i in "left" that she'd never shaken since middle school.

Beside it she had written the names of the party, and mine was one of them.

"She wrote me down as out," I said.

"She wrote you down as safe," Carrie said. "So nobody would walk in after you."

I looked at the screen until the letters stopped holding still.

"This isn't a prank," I said slowly. "You don't sign a guard's sheet for a prank."

"No."

"What is it?"

"I don't know yet." Carrie put her phone away. "But a woman who thinks you're a joke doesn't make sure the paperwork's right."

On Thursday morning she drove me to Marlow Hall herself, in her mother's old Buick, because Rachel had a shift.

The hall sat at the top of a hill outside town, a white stone building with a long drive and a lawn ready for tents.

There was a banner on the gate that said: Dunning and Haskell, Saturday the 14th.

I looked at my own name for a while.

"Do you want me to wait in the car?" Carrie said.

"No. Come in. Please."

"Okay."

Inside, a woman in a gray suit met us in the lobby.

She was the events manager I'd talked to on the phone, and she looked as uncomfortable as I felt.

"Mr. Dunning. I'm glad you could come."

"I'd like to see the contract."

She slid a folder across the desk.

I opened it and went to the signature page.

There were two names.

Mine was first.

Joanna's was under it.

Down in the payment section, in a typed line, was: Initial deposit and balance, $52,000, paid in full from joint account, 2:14 p.m.

"This is a contract I signed," I said.

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