Chapter 15

I Smell a Rat

“I wish you were here,” I say to Pam over the phone, still sniffing after sobbing uncontrollably for hours. “I wish I’d never come to Africa.”

I’m at the airport lounge where I spent the night, waiting for the next available flight, which I’m told could still be tomorrow evening.

I don’t mind. I just want to go home.

“Oh, I wish I was there, too, so I could give you a hug,” Pam says. “But I’ll just give you one at the airport when you come home, okay? Once you know your flight details, send them to me so I can pick you up and bring you home.”

She’s my best friend, all right.

“Thanks, Pam. And I’m sorry about before.”

To think I almost lost her because of Nathan. To think I chose to believe Nathan over her.

“Shh. It’s okay. Like I said, you weren’t thinking straight.”

I shift my phone to my left hand so I can blow my nose. “I still can’t believe he killed my brother.”

“Elaine didn’t say anything about a murder.”

I pull another wad of tissue. “Do you think you can ask her to send me what she knows?”

“Sure. I’ll ask her right now.” I hear the clicking of a few keys.

“Thanks, Pam. Have I ever told you you’re my best friend?”

“Um… I think so, but you can say it again just for the record.”

I chuckle. “Well, you are.”

“There. I’ve sent Elaine a message. I’ll send you her reply when it comes.”

“Thanks again.”

“By the way, I know this is probably not what you want to hear right now, but I saw Henry today, and he said you haven’t signed your contract. Are you still going to?”

“I don’t know.”

Now, more than ever, I don’t know. I don’t want to accept any more favors from the man responsible for my brother’s murder. On the other hand, working for the Seeker might just be my ticket away from Nathan and the perfect therapy for my broken heart.

“Okay. Just hang in there, all right?”

I blow my nose. “I’ll do my best.”

“Oh, and one last thing. Did Nathan actually admit to Jack’s murder? I just can’t remember if you said he did.”

I pause to think. “Um, I don’t think so. But it’s clear, isn’t it? Why?”

“Nothing. You know me. I’m a nitpicker.”

“You’re a journalist, so you have to be.”

“It just seems like your story is based more on opinion than fact, and it’s not really objective.”

“Are you saying I’m wrong?”

“I’m just saying your story should be more thorough, more polished. At least, I’d say that if I was your editor.”

“Well, thank goodness you’re not.”

“Thank goodness. Anyway, I’m sure Elaine has the facts. Just sit tight and be careful, okay? Don’t go looking for any more trouble.”

“I won’t,” I promise.

“See you soon. Bye.”

“Bye.”

I hang up and put my phone in my purse.

Thank goodness for friends.

Speaking of friends, it would be nice if Abby was here, too, but Nathan didn’t bring her. Probably because he didn’t want her to discover his secret, either.

Did Nathan actually admit to Jack’s murder?

Fine. If that’s what you think…

I shake the cobwebs of doubt away. No. I’m not wrong. Nathan had Jack killed. If he didn’t, he would have tried to explain what was really going on. He would have given me proof he was innocent.

I’m not wrong.

I get the journal from my backpack, deciding to read it again just in case there’s something I’ve missed.

Gwen’s journal. By now, I know that she was Jack’s girlfriend, even though he never mentioned her to me.

So, my brother kept secrets from me, too, huh?

And judging from Gwen’s entries, they loved each other so much. Too bad they never got married.

And it’s all Nathan’s fault.

I open the journal. As I do, the pictures fall out.

Right. I put the pictures that I got from the hut there. I look at them now, smiling back at their smiling faces. They looked so happy. Just as Therese said, they were a lively bunch.

A lively bunch that met an unfortunate end.

The last picture is the one that was in the journal to begin with — the picture of Gwen and Jack, both wearing matching beaded bracelets.

Looking at it now under brighter lights, I see something I haven’t seen before — a date written at the bottom of the picture with a black marker.

May 30, 2014.

A date written in my brother’s handwriting.

There’s a smudge at the top right corner as well. What’s more surprising, though, is that the smudge comes off.

That’s strange. Does that mean it’s recent?

Impossible.

Just then, I get a message on my laptop. I put it on my lap, opening the message. It’s the forwarded message from Elaine.

That was quick.

There’s a lot of information, files on each of the volunteer veterinarians, though they’re incomplete because she’s still going through her investigation.

I open Miguel’s file. His ashes were sent home about five months before Jack’s. As for the rest, their bodies were sent home.

Except Gwen’s. Her ashes were sent home, too.

Wait. Gwen’s ashes were sent home around the same time as Jack’s?

So, they died around the same time? Then how come Gwen’s last entry was in May? Why did Jack write ‘May 30, 2014’ on the picture?

There’s something else bothering me. If Jack was the last to die, who sent his ashes home? Who burned his body? The villagers? But Therese said they didn’t like burning corpses.

Something doesn’t add up.

And it bothers me.

Very much.

I have to clear things up.

Gathering my things, I leave the airport, deciding to return to Jack’s hut one more time.

One last time.

Don’t go looking for more trouble.

I won’t, I tell Pam’s voice in my head. I’m just looking for more answers.