“I don’t know what to believe, other than whatever happened to Barbara was painful and horrific.” I shudder just thinking about last night. Had it only been last night when I touched her hand?
“That’s because what happened to Barbie wasn’t a curse. It was murder.” His face appears haunted.
“Do you know who did it?” I ask.
“I have my suspicions, but…” he glances down at his gun.
“George Hodgens said he saw you about a month or so ago.”
“My day job is roofing. That’s how I own this place free and clear. I worked on Hodgens’ roof years ago. Then he had me put on a new roof at the police station, and well, we’ve been friendly acquaintances ever since.”
“About that accident,” I start again.
Mitchell Hunt’s face clouds over. “Where did you hear about that?”
“From a friend. He’s helping us figure all this out, too.”
“How would he know that? No one knows what happened.”
“He said his mother told him,” Cassie answers. “His mother is Bonnie Blackstone, Barbara’s sister. Do you remember her?”
His facial expression sets in a grim line. “Yeah, I know her. She’s the one I’ve got suspicions about.”
“Bonnie Blackstone?” I nearly laugh until I realize he’s not joking.
“It’s hard to believe they were twins. Aren’t twins supposed to be close? Not those two.”
Cassie leans forward as if the story’s about to get good. “Family drama,” she says with understanding. “Been there, done that.”
“Especially Bonnie,” he tells her. “She was always jealous. About everything. Didn’t matter what. If Barbie found a quarter on the street, Bonnie would trick Barbie into giving it to her. If Barbie ever earned praise, Bonnie would twist it so that the praise went to her. Barbie let her because she loved her. I never understood that. That’s what drew me to Barbie. She had the heart of a saint. But Bonnie, there was nothing saint-like about her.”
“Bonnie wouldn’t hurt her sister, would she?” Cassie asks.
“Well,” he rubs his face. “That makes this story even more interesting. See, Bonnie was my girlfriend.”
Cassie and I both exchange glances.
I go to speak, but Mitchell Hunt stops me. “Let me explain,” he says. “Bonnie is the oldest twin, so her parents and mine worked out an arrangement of sorts, and it was a silent agreement that we would get married.”
“Your family’s from the Apache tribe?”
“Yes. As a teenager, I rebelled against the idea of marrying Bonnie. I couldn’t flat out treat her poorly, so I picked on Barbie. All the time. Since they were two years younger than me, I would pull on Barbie’s pigtails, or knock her books out of her hands. Bonnie would taunt her, too, which irritated me. If anyone should look after Barbie, it should have been her twin sister. But not Bonnie.” He pauses.
“They were that different?” I ask, having a hard time seeing Bonnie Blackstone in that light.
“Like night and day. It irritated me so much because Barbie would never…react. Now I can see how much I wanted her to notice me.” He stares off with a slight smile on his face. “One day, Bonnie dared me to trip Barbie. I thought it was cruel, but I wanted to see if Barbie would react, so I accepted. It was horrible. She landed face-first in the dirt. Bonnie laughed, and Barbie started to cry. I’ll never forget that. I looked from Bonnie to Barbie, and I knew. At that moment, I knew that I didn’t want Bonnie. Nothing could make me want her. Who I wanted was Barbie. I picked her up and carried her home. She cried on my shoulder the whole way.”
The three of us sit quietly for some time.
“Could Barbara have been pregnant?”
“Not to change the subject,” Cassie’s voice pulls me away from Mitchell Hunt’s moving story. “I’m still wondering why you threatened to harm us? What happened with the car accident? Mitch says that you died from it.”
“Mitch?”
“He’s Bonnie’s son. He’s the one helping us with this mystery.”
“Bonnie’s son?”
“Yes,” Cassie says slowly.
“How old is he?”
“Maybe twenty,” I say. “I think I heard him say that.”
“I think that’s enough for today. Recounting all these painful memories has taken its toll.”
He holds out his hand and gives me a guarded handshake. I don’t want our meeting to end this abruptly, but I don’t know what else to say.
“I have a feeling we’ll see each other real soon,” he says and gives my hand an extra squeeze.
“I hope so.”
Dusk has settled onto the landscape. Mitchell Hunt decides to walk us back to the car.
“How do you get back here?” Cassie asks, pointing at his truck.
“Behind the house is Tomahawk Trail. My driveway, if you want to call it that, takes me in that direction.”
“Oh, I wonder why our GPS didn’t give us those directions,” Cassie says to me.
The older gentleman laughs. “Don’t put too much stock in technology, ladies.”
When we reach the car, he opens my car door. “If you could not tell anyone about me, I’d be appreciative,” he says it so quietly I almost don’t hear him.
“You mean, for now?”
He pinches his nose as if what he’s about to do is painful. “I know you think that I may be related to you, and I’m not saying I doubt you, but…Let’s just say that I have buried the past, so to speak. Sometimes it’s best to leave it buried.”
“Wouldn’t you want to meet him? My Dad? If he’s your son, you’d want to, right?”
“But he’s not my son.” His words sink deep into my soul, as he continues, “Whoever killed Barbie all those years, closed that path for my life. It’s closed for a reason. I’m not about to open it back up.”
“And meeting my dad will complicate things?”
He nods and smiles sadly.
I want to ask, What about me? Both of my grandfathers are dead, and yet here this one turns up out of the woodwork. “I feel slighted,” I admit. “If we’re related, you are just as much my history as any of the other people in my life.”
I slide into the car and shut the door before he can respond, but our eyes meet as Cassie backs up. And for a second, I see regret in his eyes. I wonder if he can see the disappointment in mine.
27
We stay quiet in the car at first. There so much going through my mind, but sadness is the recurring emotion. I’m surprised at how much I like Mitchell Hunt, and how disappointed I am that he wants nothing to do with me.
Once we drive onto the main road, both of our cell phones come to life. Cassie checks hers. “Five missed calls and six missed texts. Yep, we’re screwed.”
Mine has even more. Dad alone tried to ring through at least ten times. Cassie tries to drive and text one-handed. I give my father a call.
“Where are you? Are you all right? Please tell me you’re not halfway dead or in the hospital!”
“I’ll tell you I’m fine if you let me get a few words in.”
“You’re fine?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re grounded.”
“Where’s the concern from two seconds ago?”
“It went out the window the second you told me you were fine and have only been rude these last several hours while we’ve been worried sick and even contacted the police!”
“I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to be rude. We didn’t have a good cell phone signal.”
“No excuse, Virginia. You have no idea how worried we’ve been.”
I sigh and rub my forehead. I am so tired, but I do hear the worry in his voice, so I say, “All right, fine. But I’m eighteen. Isn't that a little old to be grounded? And from what?”
Dad pauses. “I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far in advance!”
“Why are you there? Weren’t you supposed to take a trip with Laura?”
“Yes. We we
re going to take our time and tour a winery. Until my mother called me up worried sick about where her two granddaughters were, and how neither one of you were answering the phone. She was short of breath and everything. You do remember you were supposed to be looking out for her?”
I’m feeling guiltier by the second. I glance over at Cassie, but she has already shut her cell phone off. When she sees me watching her, she shrugs. “We both don’t need to get reamed out. I can hear Uncle Sam from over here.”
“Is she okay?” I ask Dad.
“She’ll be fine. We’re just glad you two girls are okay. Where are you at?”
“I’m not sure exactly.”
“Outside of Pellston,” Cassie tells me.
“Pellston,” I tell my Dad.
“Why are you up there?”
“We were visiting one of Cassie’s friends.”
Cassie nods like that’s a good answer.
“Unbelievable,” Dad says. “Just get back here as soon as possible. It’s going to be about midnight by the time you get here.”
“Sorry,” I say again, but he’s already hung up.
“That’s amazing,” Cassie says.
“What?”
“I’ve never heard Uncle Sam that angry. He’s always so mellow.”
I scoff. “You haven’t been around him as long as I have.”
“Obviously.”
My cell phone rings again. This time it’s Isaac. The butterflies in my stomach immediately take off.
“Hello?”
“Hey, your Dad hung up before I could ask to speak with you.”
“You’re at Gran’s house, too?”
“Yeah, she called my dad and said she wanted to report missing granddaughters who don’t answer their phones.”
I could hear the humor in his voice and could envision him smiling that crooked smile of his. “We were in Pellston, where there’s no cell phone signal.”
“Your Dad told us. Who’s Cassie’s friend?”
“Is anybody around you?”
“Yeah.”
“Am I on speaker?”
“No.”
“Cassie and I decided to see if what Mitch said about Barbara’s boyfriend was true. Ends up, he’s still alive.”
“No way,” Isaac stops himself. “I mean, wow, are you sure?”
“Positive. We’ve been talking to him this whole time.”
“Why would Mitch say the guy was killed?”
“Because his mother told him. Turns out Bonnie Blackstone wasn’t Miss Nice.”
“Okay, well, we’ll talk when you get back.” Isaac is talking loud.
“Are people listening?”
“You bet,” he says in a false-friendly way.
I start laughing. “We’ll see you later.”
“Nice talking to you.” Still loud.
“You’re weird.”
“Bye.” Isaac chuckles as he hangs up.
I don’t realize I’m smiling at my phone until Cassie says, “You’ve got it bad.”
“Yeah, I do,” I confess. “The other night I was scrolling through Instagram, and I saw pics of Alisa at a party, and Leo’s arm is around her. Not too intimate, but friendly-like. A week ago, I’d have been in tears. I’d have called her and wigged out. But not now.”
“What are you going to do when you have to go home?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t thought that far ahead.”
“Long-distance relationships can work,” Cassie tries to encourage me. “Besides, you’re coming state-side to go to college, right?”
“I guess. I don’t know. A part of me wants to, but then again, my life is back in London. Mum’s there.”
“Looks like you’ve got a pretty good life over here,” she says. “You’ve been over here for over two weeks, and you’re already Miss Popular.”
“Thanks to a ghost.”
“It’s not that.”
“Fine. It’s my accent.”
“Yeah, maybe it’s that.” Cassie looks over at me and grins.
I know what’s coming. “Please, Cassie, no. Don’t try to—”
“What?” she says in a horrible English accent. “I was going to say how bloody fabulous it is back in London with Queen Elizabeth and Big Ben and Hugh Grant and crumpets!”
“Hugh Grant? Really?” I’m giggling as Cassie fluffs her hair and bats her eyes. She looks ridiculous.
“Hugh Grant and crumpets!” She wiggles her eyebrows. “London is sooooo fabulous. How could I possibly leave there and live in the drudgery of Northern Michigan? It’s far beneath me.”
“Stop it!” I can barely get the words out amid my laughing hysterics.
After another hour of Cassie’s wackiness, we are nearly at the outskirts of Pigeon Forest.
“Man, it’s dark out there,” I say, staring out the window.
“Not a lot of lights in the country.”
“That’s one thing about London. It’s always so bright. Can’t see very many stars, that’s for sure.”
“For the record,” Cassie says, “I would love to have you here. Maybe we could be roommates at U of M.”
“I thought I heard Aunt Sue say you were going to Michigan State.”
“I’d rather go to Ann Arbor. No offense to my mom and dad, but they want me at State, so I can still live at home. Where’s the adventure in that? If you go to Michigan though, I know they’ll let me go there with you. Just think of how awesome it would be! We could major in crime scene investigations. You could be the photographer, and I could be the cute blonde that asks all the questions.”
I smile at her. “Is that what they’d put on your degree? But yeah, it would be awesome. Gran would cry tears of joy.”
We both glance at each other, then start laughing all over again.
Neither one of us notice the headlights coming up from behind. But we do feel the impact of the vehicle as it smashes into our bumper. Cassie swerves, and I’m afraid she’ll lose control.
I turn around and see a huge monster truck accelerating from behind us to our side.
“Oh my God, Cassie!” I yell. “Watch out!”
But the truck’s tires, which are as tall as our car, smash into Cassie’s side of the car. The car swerves again. Cassie tries to slow down, but the truck seems to read our minds at the same time. It smacks us again, and this time doesn’t let up, pushing us to the side of the road.
“Ginnie, I have no control!” Cassie’s screaming.
We are completely at the truck’s mercy.
The truck comes at us again, and like a schoolyard bully, shoves us off the road. We barrel down a steep hill, increasing in speed, and screaming what may be our final breaths.
***
My name is being called from far away. It seems like I’m in a dark tunnel, and the person calling me is trying to find me. I try to yell, “I’m here!” but nothing comes out. I gag because something is choking me. I clutch my throat, my airway clogged. I hear my name again. It’s no use. Despair settles in. With one final effort, I try to purge whatever’s in my throat. With a violent push, my mouth opens and my throat releases a stream of beetles. They pour out of my mouth and onto me.
It is then that I scream.
When I come to, I gasp and start flailing to get the beetles off.
“She’s with us!” someone yells. “It’s all right,” the person tells me. “You’re going to be okay.”
“Virginia!” My Dad leans over me, patting my forehead and arms, tears freely running down his face. “I’m right here.”
He calms me down, but I still tremble. It’s then I notice the throbbing in my head. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” he’s saying. He kisses my forehead.
“We’re going to strap her in,” the voice says to my Dad.
“I don’t think that’s necessary,” he says.
“We can’t have her injuring her head anymore, sir. It’s just a precaution.”
Dad looks down at me. “They’re going to strap you to the
gurney just until you get to the hospital. I’m going to be right here next to you the whole time.”
I wrack my brain trying to put the pieces together. I’m lying on my back on what must be the gurney. Now that I’ve got more of my wits about me, I see a bright light shining over me, yet when I turn my head, which I can’t do for long because it hurts too much, it’s dark.
“The accident,” I remember. I try to get up. “Where’s Cassie? I’ve got to find her.”
Several pairs of hands push me down.
“It’s okay,” Dad reassures me. “You got the worst of it. She’s cut up a bit from the shattered window, but her airbag worked.”
“No airbag for me?” I ask, wincing at the continual throb of my skull.
Dad’s face clouds over. “No. It didn’t release. Thank God you had your seat belt on.” He does not hide the emotional upheaval he’s going through, and my heart lurches.
“Does this mean I’m not grounded?” I joke. I can’t bear to see him this upset.
Now he smiles. “It’s negotiable.”
“We’ve got her strapped in, sir. Let’s get her in the ambulance and to the hospital.”
Dad nods to them.
They begin to move the gurney, and I can tell it’s an effort to move me through the terrain. “How far from the road are we?”
“Not too far. The trees stopped you.” Dad squeezes my hand, and I can see how emotional he still is. “It could have turned out a lot worse.”
I think of the monster truck that came out of nowhere and charged at us before shoving us off the road. “Whoever it was wanted to hurt us,” I say out loud. “It was that man in the monster truck.”
Dad’s face freezes. “I’ll take care of it. The police will get a statement later. Right now I want you to focus on getting better.”
The paramedics, along with Dad, have to carry me up the hill that leads to the road. I’m jiggled back and forth, which makes my body scream in pain, but I don’t say anything. What would be the point?
Once we make it to the side of the road, I notice how many people are here. Three police vehicles close off this portion of the road, not to mention there are a fire truck and two ambulances. If that wasn’t enough, a crowd of people hang along the background, curiously looking around.
Lake of Secrets Page 22
