Mitch has watched the whole scene with a serious expression on his face.
“What?” I ask. “You don’t want me to leave either?”
I’m being sarcastic, so it surprises me when he says, “No, I don’t. If you are related to me, it’s going to suck not getting to know you.”
The guilt is annoying me, so I snap, “We don’t know that we’re related,” and I walk into the library. Then I feel bad for my behavior. It’s not their fault that I have to leave. And it’s sweet they want me to stay. What’s wrong with me? I feel completely torn in two. One part of me longs for London and home, but there is another part of me. That part feels I belong here. That I owe it to this ghost to figure out what’s going on.
“Ginnie?”
I glance over at Mitch who’s standing next to a beautiful Indian woman. Her black hair shines down her back, her skin looks years younger than her probable age, and there’s a wisdom and shyness to her persona that pulls at me. But none of that makes my knees tremble or my stomach flip. It’s the resemblance to the ghost that has me nearly passing out.
“This is my mother, Bonnie Blackstone.”
“N-N-ice to meet you,” I finally say after I regain some composure.
“It’s nice to meet both of you.” Bonnie turns to Mitch. “I have to get back to work.”
“But we need to ask you some questions.”
“Now? What could it possibly be about that you need to speak to me right this second?”
“About Barbara,” he whispers. “Ginnie is the one who found her.”
Mrs. Blackstone turns back to me as if seeing me for the first time. “Go to the back meeting room. I’ll be there in a minute.”
There’s a sadness in her features as she walks away that pulls at me.
“This way,” Mitch says.
We make our way to the back room. I sit in one of the leather chairs that surround a conference table.
“This is nice,” Cassie says. She goes on to talk about how she might decide to major in media technology so that she can be a librarian, but I am still squeamish by the resemblance of Mitch’s mother to the ghost. It makes the ghost all the more real to me.
Mrs. Blackstone walks into the room and shuts the door behind her. “I only have a few minutes.” She sits directly across from me. “You found my sister?” She seems as much in disbelief as Mitch was.
I nod. “It felt as if something was pulling the boat. We tried to paddle away, but nothing worked. We just let the current—or whatever it was—lead us to the shore.”
Her eyebrows raise in apparent shock.
“She’s seen her ghost,” Mitch says quietly. “She has to be a descendant of our tribe.”
“She’s not just a descendant,” Mrs. Blackstone says. “She’s a full-blood.”
“No, I’m not.” They don’t seem to hear me, so I say again, “My Mum is full-blood Irish. So, even if my Dad is full-blood, I can’t be. And, I don’t know if my Dad is related.”
She nods slowly, then lets out a long breath. “It can’t be,” she says to herself.
“What?” the three of us kids ask together.
“How old is your father?”
“He’s turning forty this week.”
Mrs. Blackstone gets up from the table, shaking her head. “I have to get back.” She studies me for a few seconds. “Let me think about this. Thank you for finding my sister,” she says before she walks out.
“You upset her,” Cassie says.
“How?”
“No, my mother always does that when she has to think about something. Come on, let’s check the archives.”
“Don’t you have any pictures or anything at your house?” Cassie asks Mitch as we head out of the room.
“Some, but Mom hid everything that reminded her of her sister.”
“I feel like we’re detectives or something,” Cassie says. We’ve sat at a set of computers labeled Archives. “What do we search for?”
“One of us type in Barbara Blackstone. Someone else should research any other deaths at or near the lake. No matter how far back you have to go,” Mitch says. “I’m going to research my tribe’s customs and see if I can discover anything new about the curse.”
“Sounds good,” Cassie says. “Which one do you want to research?” she asks me.
But I’m already typing in Barbara’s name. “You find out about any other deaths,” I say while scanning the computer screen for relevant information.
The three of us stare at our screens, silently reading articles as the minutes tick by.
“I found something that might help you.” He clicks the print button and walks over to the printer.
“I didn’t find anything here. Maybe I’m doing it wrong.”
“I didn’t find anything either,” I say with some disappointment.
Cassie heads over to the printer where Mitch is looking over some papers.
As I leave, I say to Mrs. Blackstone, “I’m sorry about the loss of your sister.”
She nods and says, “Thank you.”
I start to walk away when she grabs my arm.
“You won’t find anything.”
At first, I’m not sure what she means, but then she continues, “I searched for…years. One day we’re walking to school together. I didn’t see her for the rest of the day. She never came home that night. She went missing. Rumor was that she was pregnant, but she never kept secrets from me, and I never knew about that. She didn’t have it in her to run away. She was always the chicken, and I was the brave one.” Mrs. Blackstone chuckles softly at the memory. “So I kept looking. I didn’t want to believe in a curse. I wondered if she was alive somewhere, but I think my heart knew all along.”
“I’m sorry,” I say again for lack of anything better.
“Anyways, there’s nothing there. It’s like she vanished.”
Mitch and Cassie walk back over. “You ready?” Mitch asks.
Before I leave, I ask her, “If you think of any reason why she is trying to communicate with me, will you let me know?”
“I want to find out myself. So, you keep me posted, too, okay? Be safe out there.”
A heaviness tugs on my heart as I walk out with Mitch and Cassie. Maybe it’s because we leave the building with more questions than answers, but, more importantly, I know that it’s because if I want to find the truth, I’m going to have to go to the source.
20
No one is having a good time. Other than Cassie.
With Isaac around, she is in full swoon mode, which makes everyone uncomfortable. Isaac looks at me occasionally, and my heart leaps into my throat. Even Mitch acts like he’d rather be anywhere but here. He keeps watching Cassie openly flirt with Isaac, and I swear he seems jealous. Maybe he’s developed a bit of a crush.
Needless to say, the night is awkward. And miserable. And, well, awkward.
I barely remember anything about the movie. Isaac decides he’s tired and doesn’t want to eat anywhere afterward. Cassie pouts. We all pile in Isaac’s Jeep. Yeah, not fun.
On the way back, Mitch and I keep the conversation going between us to pretend things aren’t as weird as they are.
“What did you think of the article?” he asks while Cassie is talking faster than a squirrel on crack.
“I found the info about the beetles, but there wasn’t anything there about a specific curse.”
“I know. I asked my mom about it, and she said that it only affected the tribe of this area, so that’s why we can’t find it in the literature.”
“What are you two talking about back there?” Isaac asks, looking directly at me through the rearview mirror.
I look away, but Mitch answers, “We researched some stuff about my tribe. We’re trying to find out if we’re related.”
“That would be so cool,” Cassie gushes. “Would that mean I’d be related to you?”
“No,” Mitch says too quickly.
I glance up and Isaac is still sneaking peeks at me throu
gh the mirror. He coughs loudly. Mitch reaches into his pocket for something.
“So, you two might be related? How’s that?” Isaac asks as if nothing happened.
Mitch leans forward to talk to him and maneuvers himself toward the middle. “Well, we don’t know yet.”
As Mitch talks, he drops something in my lap. I realize it’s a note, and that it’s probably from Isaac. Why wouldn’t he just text me? Then again, he’s texted me three times today, and I have yet to text him back. I can’t stop my heart from beating wildly. I want to read it right there, but it’s dark, and I don’t want Cassie to see. I stuff the small paper into my pocket and look out the window.
We can’t get to the house fast enough. Once Isaac pulls in, he makes no effort to get out. “Well, see you all later.”
Mitch says good night and heads to his truck. “We’ll talk tomorrow,” he says to me before getting inside.
I shut the back door to the Jeep, and Isaac makes eye contact. “Bye, Ginnie.”
“Bye.”
“You can come in,” Cassie offers.
“Nah, I need to get going.” Isaac puts the Jeep into reverse.
It’s becoming clear that Isaac wants nothing to do with Cassie, but is that because she puts him in an awkward position? But he knew she’s my cousin. Wouldn’t he assume Cassie would tell me everything?
“What was up with him?” Cassie says as we enter the house.
“You heard him. He’s probably tired from a long day at the golf course.”
“Yeah, I guess. Maybe I’ll call him tomorrow. Or even better, maybe I’ll surprise him with a visit. What do you think?”
We shut the front door and lock it, then head up the stairs. The note is burning a hole in my jeans. I’m certain of it.
“What about Mitch?” I ask. “He seems to like you.”
“Really? I mean, I couldn’t do that to Isaac.”
“If Isaac doesn’t pay you attention, but Mitch does, then sometimes a girl’s got to move on.”
I can’t believe I’m manipulating my cousin. But that’s exactly what I’m doing. Before I can stand it, I excuse myself to the loo. Once the door is locked—and I’ve checked it three times—I venture a look at the paper. I unfold it, and sure enough, it says, I can explain. Meet me at the docks. 12:30 a.m.
My knees give out and I fall onto the toilet seat. I am so giddy. I know I should be hurt or angry or frustrated, but the thought of Isaac sneaking this note to Mitch to give to me is enough to have me at least go out to the docks and see him.
Then it hits me. The docks. At 12:30 at night.
I will have to walk in the dark. By myself.
Despair hits me like a sledgehammer to the stomach. I can’t go. There’s no way. I know I might have thought about seeking out the ghost, but who was I kidding?
I shove the note in my pocket, deciding to send him a text. But being at the docks with Isaac sounds deliciously romantic. I’m undecided as I go to the bedroom.
Cassie has her phone out. “I’m snapchatting,” she says without looking up. “I mean, Instagram is great, but I don’t know, Snapchat has better filters.” She poses and takes a pic. “Here. Pose.” I place my hands on my hips and stick my tongue out. She laughs. “I’m posting that.”
I crawl into bed with my clothes still on, trying to talk myself into going.
Isaac will be there…The ghost hasn’t hurt you…If she wanted to hurt, it would have already happened…Isaac will be there.
“So, you believe you saw a ghost?” Cassie turns off her phone.
“Yeah, I think so.”
“You should videotape it and send it to that one show that investigates places where ghosts are located. Oh, what’s it called?” she snaps her fingers. “Ghost Hunters! That’s it! Maybe we could get some money for it.”
Cassie keeps talking, so I turn off the light, to let her know that I want to go to sleep. She doesn’t, however, get nonverbal communication. I glance at the alarm clock. It’s already midnight.
“So who do you think I should go for? Isaac or Mitch?”
“All I know is Mitch seemed jealous tonight. It seems like a waste of time to try and flirt with a guy who’s going to be a wanker about it.”
“Mitch was jealous?”
Cassie takes the bait, but I fake tired and yawn. “I need to crash.”
“It’s still early,” she says in a huff. Still, she lies down in bed. For a few minutes, everything’s quiet. Then Cassie says, “I think I’m going to flirt with them both. There’s nothing wrong with having a little fun with two guys.”
I don’t respond, hoping she thinks I’m sleeping. Then I battle it out in my mind. Brave the ghost for Isaac or stay safe in bed? But as 12:30 hits, I already know what I’m going to do.
Cassie’s been quiet for about twenty minutes. I don’t take any chances and slip out of bed as carefully as I can. My bed squeaks though as I stand up. I stop, then tip-toe to the door.
“Where’re you going?” she asks sleepily.
“To the loo. My guts are killing me.”
I shut the bedroom door behind me and let out a breath. I go and turn on the light in the bathroom and shut the door, just in case she comes looking for me. As I tip-toe down the stairs, I listen for any movement coming from our room. Nothing.
Before I walk to the kitchen, I go to the linen closet and grab a flashlight. I cannot believe I am going out there in the dark. If Isaac stands me up, I swear to everything holy, he will suffer.
I’ve already wasted five minutes. I cross myself and recite a quick prayer. Saints, don’t fail me now!
Opening and closing the door as quietly as I can, I refuse to look anywhere near the woods. I move quickly down the steps, across the fire pit area, and as I get closer, I see a figure on the docks. My breath catches.
It’s not a ghost. It’s Isaac.
He stands at the edge of the dock, looking up at the sky, and my heart thumps thickly. When I step on the dock, he turns. There’s no smile, only worry, and agitation.
“Ginnie…I don’t even know where to begin…”
I walk to him, closing the distance.
“I didn’t think you’d come out here,” he says. “I hoped you would, but I wasn’t for sure.”
I can’t say anything yet. I press my lips together to keep my emotions in check.
“Nothing happened between me and Cassie. I don’t know what she’s told you, but I promise I’m not lying. She’s just very exuberant in her flirting.”
My eyes have been looking down only because I know I will get lost in his gaze, but he lifts my chin anyways. Our eyes make contact, and I feel I’ll melt right there.
“She’s had this silly crush on me since forever, and a couple of years ago, I was immature and stupid and kissed her. Nothing major. Just a peck. Big mistake. Every summer I think she’ll grow out of it. I just assumed…I don’t know what I assumed. I hoped she would get the hint if she saw us together.” He trails his fingers across my cheek faintly, sending goose pimples down my spine. “Please, say something.”
“I want to be angry,” I finally answer. “But all I can think about is kissing you again.”
Isaac rests his forehead on mine, brings his hands to my hands, and intertwines our fingers. We pause before our lips find their way to each other. Nothing else matters. He wraps his arms around me, and I cling to him. We come up for air, only to go under again.
“This is going to be difficult,” he says, pulling away.
“Just the same, if you keep me kissing me like that it won’t be difficult for much longer.”
“Ginnie, Ginnie, Ginnie, please don’t say stuff like that to me. It makes me crazy.” He leans in and kisses me again. It’s an urgent kiss filled with need. I am loving this! Isaac stops, then says, “I’ll take you back inside.”
I nod. “I should remain a good Catholic girl for a while longer.”
Isaac laughs softly. “Yeah, all right, as long as everything’s okay between us.”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to tell Cassie? Or should I?”
“I hadn’t thought about that.”
“I don’t want these next couple weeks you’re here to be like tonight, so someone’s got to say something.”
My stomach drops when I realize I’m leaving in a few days. I squeeze my eyes shut and inwardly swear at my stupid self. I can’t fathom leaving Isaac. I’ll have to talk with Gran.
“I’ll tell her,” I say.
Isaac takes my hand and walks with me back to the house. I decide to not look anywhere else but straight ahead.
“So, I’ve decided we should try mudding again.” We approach the deck and take the steps quietly.
“Sure, why not. I’m in good hands.”
“As long as you don’t face-plant in mud again.”
“Ha, ha.” My insides haven’t yet calmed down. From the kiss or the threat of the ghost showing up. Still, I wrap my arms around him. Ghost or no ghost, I’m not ready for Isaac to leave. “Today was miserable without you,” I confess. “Thanks for the explanation.”
Isaac rests his hands on my hips and pulls me closer. Our lips are not even an inch apart. “How am I supposed to leave?” he asks, his breath mingling with mine. When we kiss this time, everything leaves my brain and I simply enjoy the taste of his lips on mine, the amazing sensation I feel when he touches me. Too soon, Isaac pulls back. “I need to go.”
We kiss again.
Isaac sighs reluctantly and takes a step back. He rubs his hand over his face and chuckles to himself. “Your father’s never going to trust me if I sneak you out of the house and then make out with you all night.”
“I’m willing to risk it,” I dare say.
He looks at me with such longing, it takes my breath away. “I need to go,” he says again. “I have the day off tomorrow. Want to hang out with me and Ian?”
“Of course.”
“I thought we could take you golfing. Ian may like ghost stories, but he’s determined he only likes to read about them and is not quite ready to be near the lake.”
“I don’t blame him.”
“Okay. I’ll stop by around eleven.” He pauses, then says, “You should probably get in the house while my self-control is working.”
Lake of Secrets Page 17
