You'll Thank Me for This by Nina Siegal (top 10 books of all time txt) 📕

which trails went in which directions. Once they were inside the park, Maaike leaned forward and unclipped the dogs from their leashes, one by one, and off they ran.

Jezebel was the last one on the lead. Maaike motioned to Grace to give her Karin’s shirt. Without any further discussion, she held it up to the dog’s nose and let her get a good long whiff. “That should do it,” she said to Grace. “She’ll take us there.”

Then she let Jezebel go. The dog behaved strangely at first, just running in circles around the dirt clearing, not seeming to know which direction to go. Then she ran up and down one trail and back to Maaike, like the other dogs were doing, and leapt up on her master. Maaike held out the shirt again, and Jezebel barked, just once. She chose a trail and ran off quickly in that direction, and Maaike and Grace nodded to each other before they turned on their flashlights and followed. The rest of the dogs also came along, running up and down the path, up ahead and then back, playfully, with no sense of the terrible dread Grace was feeling.

They’d been following Jezebel for about ten minutes already, shining flashlights into the dark, when they heard Jezebel wailing.

“I guess it worked,” Maaike said as she picked up her pace. Grace began to run, charging ahead of the older woman. As she did, she felt a stab of pain in her chest—was it fear and dread, or just her heart worn out by the strain? She was nearly breathless when she pressed through some branches to find the dog digging furiously with her paws in the dirt under a cluster of trees. No sign of Karin there.

Grace stopped and shone her flashlight all around the floor of the forest, seeing garbage everywhere. Plastic bottles, large ones and small ones, and giant tin cans strewn about the place, lots of plastic bags. A large green tarp was half suspended from the branches of a tree, and half fallen into the dirt. There were also filthy sleeping bags, cups and knives, and metal plates strewn about, and industrial-size containers labeled ACETONE and WEED KILLER.

Maaike caught up with her, breathing heavily, and her flashlight also scanned the scene. “Looks like someone has been living here,” she said.

They wandered around the empty campsite, seeing the now-dead campfire, its embers seemingly doused by water. There were all kinds of chemicals everywhere and a concerning amount of garbage. It was clear that some people had been here pretty recently. Maybe even hours ago. Where had they gone? Did they leave or were they chased out?

“I think it’s a meth lab,” said Grace. “I’ve been reading about this in the papers. They’re using various forests for it these days.” Her heart began to sink—this was frightening, but it held no clue to Karin’s whereabouts.

Maaike went over to inspect what Jezebel was digging up. She was wrestling something out of the dirt with her teeth. “Is this…” she started to say as Grace turned to see what the dog had unearthed from her hole. “Is it…?”

“Karin’s backpack,” Grace said as Jezebel lifted the zebra-striped bag in her teeth. “She was here.” Grace felt her stomach drop. At the very least, Karin had been out here with some frightening people. Why? Had the other kids been here too? Or just Karin? What on earth had she been doing here? Had they kidnapped her? What did they plan to do with her?

The obvious next question didn’t need to be said aloud, but Grace said it anyway. “So where is she?”

“Let’s call the police,” said Maaike. “We’d better call now.”

Grace grabbed her phone out of her jacket pocket and was about to dial when the phone rang instead. It was Rutger calling. Maybe he had news. She accepted the call and held it to her ear.

“Hello, Grace. I wanted to let you know that one of the children has arrived. Only one, but that’s something. Dirk is here. He found his way to the camp.”

“Only Dirk?” said Grace. “What about the girls?”

“So far it’s only him,” said Rutger, slowing his speech so that Grace knew she needed to listen carefully. “He is very shaken. He says that he was with Margot, but the two of them went off on their own and left Lotte and Karin behind. He is the only one who has made it here. Have you reached your husband yet?”

“Left the other two behind? Where?” Grace was trying to take this in. She was sure she hadn’t heard him right.

“I guess they were trying to have a private, um, moment. They’re thirteen—I don’t know. Sometimes kids do that. Your husband, Martijn,” said Rutger. “He was supposed to follow the kids. Did you talk to him?”

“No, I’ve been calling him for hours,” she said. “I can’t reach him. I can’t understand why.”

Rutger paused for a pregnant moment. “Dirk says that Martijn found him with Margot—they were not where they were supposed to be. I think they were doing something…something sexual. Martijn apparently separated them and sent Dirk ahead on his own. Martijn told him he would accompany Margot to the camp because she should not be alone out there. But they have not arrived. No one else has arrived yet.”

“What?” Grace was dumbfounded. She was beginning to understand that the spool of thread that held this whole event together had unraveled. How far had it unraveled? Was there no one in charge? No one was where they were supposed to be. “What?”

“Your husband was with Margot, but…” He started to repeat his story, as if she hadn’t heard him.

“No, no, I heard what you said. I just don’t understand; I don’t understand what all of this means. Martijn was with Margot? But they aren’t there yet. They didn’t make it to the campsite. What about Riekje?” asked Grace. “Did you hear from her?”

“No,” Rutger said with a deep sigh. “Nothing. I’ve been calling and calling her