by Eden Maguire
“Most of the time she was,” I agreed, staring at the weeping woman, wondering where Monster Mom and my Suspect Number Two had gone. “But some things are just too hard to hide.”
Allyson blinked and stepped inside the summerhouse again and we all sat down, Raven still holding tight to me. “So she explained his condition?”
Right then the sense of Arizona grew stronger. I heard her voice saying over and over, “You won’t see me but I’ll definitely be there.”
“Arizona said Raven was an amazing, special boy,” I told them both. “She wouldn’t have wanted to leave you, Raven, because she loved you more than anything in the world.”
“Don’t—he doesn’t understand.” Tears ran down Allyson’s cheeks. “He thinks his sister is going to come back. Every day he waits for her.”
“Maybe you do understand, Raven. You know that Arizona loves you.”
“So why did she do what she did?” A bitter tone came through Allyson’s tears. “If she loved him, she wouldn’t have drowned herself in the lake.”
I took a deep breath. “Maybe that’s not the way it happened?”
“Sure it was,” came the defensive reply. “Suicide by drowning.That’s what they said at the in quest—no question.”
“And how come everyone is so sure?”
“Because there’s no other way of looking at it.” Allyson raised her hand to stroke Raven’s hair back from his face. “Anyway, the family—Frank’s family—has a history. His uncle blew his own brains out. He has a brother with bipolar disorder.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know that. ”Once again my own singleparent, no-money family situation began to look desirable.
“And Frank was affected by that, naturally. With him you don’t see much emotion. He keeps things locked up. Like his daughter. Even when Raven was born and we first knew something was wrong, Frank never shared how he felt. And I had to do all the practical stuff—the clinics, the diagnoses, the treatments—he never came along with me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said again. My view of the Taylor setup was shifting once more. Every time I thought I had a hold on it—hyper-ambitious mom unwilling to give up career to care for autistic son—the footsteps in the sand settled, the wind blew and blurred the lines so that everything looked different.
“Frank wanted reasons.” Allyson sighed. “Is Raven the way he is due to genetic factors? Abnormal levels of serotonin in the brain, a virus during pregnancy, fragile X syndrome? He went through everything.”
“It didn’t help?”
“No, though when she grew older, that’s what Arizona did too. She read all the theories, just like her dad.”
“She was smart,” I reminded her.
“But it led to fights between us. She always thought she knew the answers—a special diet, cognitive behavioral therapy…”
“I hear you.”
“So I was the bad guy, going down the conventional route and sending Raven away to the Lindsey Institute, and when he was home, making sure he took his seizure medication. We fought over that a lot, while Frank—he did his usual thing of withdrawing.”
“Leaving you to deal with the practicalities?”
Allyson nodded. “You’re young, so you can’t know what it’s like to be married, but not have someone you can rely on, someone who is offering you support. It makes a person bitter.”
I thought my way into her situation and agreed.
“You know something—soon after we lost Arizona, Frank took away all the pictures of her, plus her school books, her jewelry, her clothes—everything.”
“What did he do with them?”
“He stored them in boxes and locked them in Peter’s workshop, said he didn’t want to be reminded. That’s how he dealt with it.” Allyson breathed in deeply, then pulled her shoulders back. “Peter told you that everything around here changed? Raven gets to take a break from the institute while Frank and I take a break from each other.”
I nodded. Now she was flying solo for real, and it showed in her red-rimmed eyes, her drooping mouth. I felt what I would have believed impossible thirty minutes earlier—truly, deeply sorry for Allyson Taylor.
So where was Arizona when I came out onto the street?
I checked in both directions, then set off for town, guessing that by now the Beautiful Dead had arrived back at Foxton and that Hunter had ordered her to meet with them—which meant that I had to return there too.
“This is when possession of a superpower would come in handy,” I muttered as I hurried along. Otherwise, how would I get up to the ridge?
As it turned out, through Brandon, that was how. He roared by on his Harley just as I reached the industrial unit behind the shopping mall.
“Kyle fixed your car,” he told me, stopping at the edge of the sidewalk. He looked amused by the fact that I was having to get from A to B on foot.
I stared back hard. “Kyle?” I echoed.
“Sure. No charge. I told him it was the least he could do.”
“Did he…did he say anything?”
“Only that you needed to learn to stop poking your nose in where it isn’t wanted. I didn’t ask.” Patting the passenger seat, Brandon told me to hop on the bike. “Come on—do you want to get your car back or not?”
Of course I did. But I wasn’t happy riding passenger with Brandon Rohr, putting my arms around his waist and feeling the warmth of his body beneath his white T-shirt. It made me want to cry. But I had no choice.
We rode by the electrical wholesalers’ unit, took a left, and headed for Mike’s Motors. Brandon pulled up outside the workshop,telling me to wait by the Dyna while he went inside. A couple of minutes later he drove my car down the ramp. “Good as new,” he said, getting out and throwing me the keys.
In the workshop doorway I saw Kyle Keppler standing with his arms folded, watching intently.
“How did you do it?” I muttered to Brandon in disbelief.
“Kyle knows he was out of line. Besides, he owes me a couple of favors.”
“So thanks.” I nodded. I was about to get into the car and drive away when Brandon put his hand on my shoulder and stopped me. “Crazy,” he mumbled, staring into my eyes. “I swore to my brother that I’d take care of you.” The heavy hand made me uncomfortable and feel all the differences between Brandon and Phoenix. “Thanks,” I said again. “You’re doing a good job.”
Brandon let out a sigh. “Do you think Phoenix knows it—wherever he is now?”
Wherever he is now. Like I said already, sometimes people tread so hard on my secret that I want to scream.
I drove fast up to Foxton, desperate to see Phoenix and survey the storm damage by the roadside. In the burnout area by Turkey Shoot, charred trees had toppled and lay crisscrossed on the hillsides, while torrents of brown, foaming water flooded the gullies. Swinging left at the Foxton junction, I hurried past the fisherman’s shack where Lee had made his exit.
High on the ridge, where the road ended, I abandoned my car and ran along the deer path toward the water tower.
Phoenix, I need to see you! My heart cried out, my body ripped through by the high wind that had blown the storm out a few hours earlier. Wind and wings mixed together, the sound rising to a fresh tempest as I paused by the rusting tower. Any stranger facing this invisible force field would surely have turned back.
I ducked my head and held my jacket tight across my chest, plunging down the hill toward the dripping, steaming barn. I ran blind, head buried in my chest, heart thumping—right into my boyfriend’s arms.
“Darina, it’s OK,” Phoenix whispered, his lips against the top of my head. Then, putting one hand under my chin, he tilted my gaze until I was looking into his eyes.
“Oh God, I was so scared you wouldn’t make it through the storm,” I breathed, clutching the lapels of his leather jacket like it was a life preserver.
“I’m here,” he soothed—his voice low and intense, waiting for me to calm down. The wild wind blew through his hair, p
ushing it across his forehead, then flicking it back from his face.
“Lee…” I mumbled, hiding my face against his silent rib cage.
“I know. Baby, I’m sorry…Darina—you shouldn’t have seen that.”
“There was blood. He was in pain. There was no way I could help.”
“Hunter told us,” Phoenix said softly. “Lee took a direct hit—a fork of lightning hit him full-on.”
“I tried to get him out of the shack,” I sobbed. “Then Hunter could have helped him.”
“No. It was already too late. We don’t survive long after a direct hit. We fade within a couple of hours.” Phoenix wanted to make me feel better. He held me tight and stroked my hair. “Lee was too weak; the electric storm had done its work before you got there.”
“It’s so sad.” Gradually I was able to stop crying and relax into Phoenix’s strong arms. “It scared me.”
“Poor Darina,” he soothed, squeezing me and rocking me gently as we stood in the yard. “This is tough for you.”
I shook my head. “No, this isn’t about me. What really scared me was the idea that the same thing could happen to any of you—Summer, Arizona, especially you, Phoenix.”
This time there were no comforting words. He looked into my eyes without denying it.
“A storm can happen any time,” I went on. “Last night, you were in Ellerton with me. It could have been you as well as Lee.”
Phoenix nodded. “We all take that risk. That’s why Hunter sends us out in twos or threes whenever he can.”
“That guy is seriously brave,” I confided.
Phoenix smiled. “So you don’t hate him anymore?”
“Yeah, I still do. He’s way too controlling.” I managed to grin back at him. “He’s like the worst kind of father—the kind you can’t argue with.”
“Tell me about it. You know he’s listening right now?”
I nodded. “Of course. Where is he?”
“In the hayloft with the others. Are you ready to join them?” Taking my hand, Phoenix led me into the barn. He bolted the door behind us.
Out of the wind at last, and calmer now, I took a look around. Old, dust-covered bridles and reins hung from their hooks, shovels and pitchforks rested against the walls. Dusty spider webs were slung from beam to beam, undisturbed.
“Upstairs,” Phoenix prompted. Again he led the way. The wooden steps creaked under his weight.
And there they were—Arizona, Summer, Eve with her baby, Kori, Donna, and Iceman—the Beautiful Dead. And their overlord, Hunter, stern-faced and powerful once more, now that the storm had long passed.
They looked remote and serious, deep in grief over Lee.
Arizona came over. “Sorry. Hunter made me leave earlier. But you carried on speaking with Raven?” she asked anxiously.
I nodded. “I told him everything you asked me to.”
She drank in my words, as if every strand of hope, delicate as the spider webs around us, hung on my reply. “How was he?”
“I can’t lie to you. Anyway, you saw him yourself. Allyson said he still expects you back.”
Panic flickered across Arizona’s face. “Allyson?” she echoed.
“She showed up. I…” I broke off, debating whether or not to add: I thought you were there. But clearly it had been too risky for her to stay. “And she confirmed that she doesn’t want your grandparents to visit anymore. She’s definitely taking the paid-caretaker route.”
“My God, she can’t do that!” My answer threw Arizona into a tailspin. “Raven needs his family around him.”
“I’m sorry. But Allyson didn’t come across the way I expected.” I tried to settle her panic. “She does care for Raven—more than I thought.”
“Yeah, she cares enough to put him in that school! She cares enough not to look at stuff like diet and toxins, modern therapies!”
“That wasn’t what I got from her,” was all I could say, turning to Hunter who had joined us. “None of this is how it looks from the outside.”
“Including Arizona,” the overlord pointed out. “You never expected her to be suffering the way she does.”
I nodded. “True. Listen, Arizona, I won’t walk away from Raven—whatever happens.”
“You swear?” She caught on to this like a drowning person. “You’ll be a link with his past. You won’t let him forget me?”
“I promise. He knew your name and he connects me with you. I did what you asked—I told him you loved him.”
I guess at this point Arizona would have been happy to make her exit. She was where she wanted to be—knowing that in the future I would look out for Raven, that he understood—if only a little—and she had done everything she could. I genuinely believe she didn’t care how she’d died or what happened to her now. But the Beautiful Dead had a mission to get to the core of the mystery, and Hunter was the guy who was in control.
“We have less than twenty-four hours,” he reminded us. “It’s still looking like a suicide, unless Darina can come up with something else.”
Everyone stared at me.
“Let’s get moving,” Summer announced, breaking into the tense mood.“What have we got, Darina? We have a boyfriend who’s living on a razor’s edge in case Sable finds out about his affair with Arizona. We have the Taylor family so caught up in fights and arguments that no one can think straight.”
“Plus, grandparents who care, but are kept at arm’s length,” I added. “And a kid brother who runs away from his school on the same morning that Arizona drowns.”
“And me,” Arizona reminded us. “One crazy, mixed-up girl who has no friend or family she can talk to. Maybe that’s it—I gave way to the pressure and jumped in that lake, like they said.”
Summer did something I’d never seen before—she grew angry. “You don’t really believe that!” she cried, getting into Arizona’s face. “You’re a fighter. You don’t do surrender!”
Arizona shook her head. “Maybe I did—just that once.”
“I don’t believe it,” I stated. “Summer’s right. Even if the Kyle situation was hopeless and it was getting to you, you’d never have given up on Raven. No, somebody else was involved and you’ve blocked it out—like the trauma is too strong.”
“So, Darina, you should go back to Ellerton,” Hunter broke in. “Phoenix can go with you. If you decide to meet Kyle Keppler face-to-face and ask him exactly where he was and who he saw the day Arizona died, Phoenix can take care of you.”
If Kyle came across with the violence, Phoenix could zap him with his superstrength again. He could get me out of any danger I might find myself in. I also knew this was not a tactic Hunter would favor in anything except an emergency. Time was agonizingly short and the most important questions were still unanswered. I turned to Phoenix and saw that he was scared on my behalf.
“Hey, at least we get to spend another night together,” I joked.
Arizona didn’t appreciate my humor. “You won’t get any answers from Kyle,” she still insisted. “No way was he involved.”
We didn’t believe her—our silence said it all.
It was only then that we heard the bikes gathering by Angel Rock.
As we later found out, they’d come up from Forest Lake, ghost-busting on their Harleys and Kawasakis, a group of tough guys who had listened to the ramblings of an old fisherman who had found his way down from his shack with an incoherent tale of a kid who got caught in the storm. A boy who drowned in the creek, and whose bleeding corpse glittered and disappeared in front of his eyes. At first they’d laughed at the crazy old man, then they’d drunk a couple of beers. After that, someone suggested they ride up and take another look.
“Iceman, get up there!” Hunter ordered when he did finally pick up the sound of engines. “Donna, you go with him. Set up a barrier—don’t let anyone through.”
The commands came thick and fast. He told Summer, Eve, and Arizona to circle around the back of the bikers and then approach from the direction of Amos P
eak. “We squeeze them from all sides,” he explained. “We bunch them together, then we push them along the ridge toward Foxton. Do whatever you have to do!” He told Phoenix and me not to move from the house until the coast was clear. “Go!” he ordered, half pushing us down the steps. “Lock the door from the inside.”
We obeyed, crossing the yard as the Beautiful Dead spread out across the hillside, disappearing into the aspens as dusk began to fall. They moved silently and swiftly, like shadows.
“Hunter’s got a crazy look,” Phoenix murmured as we went into the house. “He’s mad that he didn’t post lookouts. Now we’re all in danger.”
“Even Hunter gets it wrong sometimes.” I shrugged. I felt safe in the house, though the walls were only rough-hewn logs and the iron bolt on the door was rusty. Truth be told, in spite of the danger and ticking clock, all I could feel was happiness that Hunter had chosen Phoenix to stay and take care of me. “So you have to tell me what’s happening up at Angel Rock,” I insisted.
Phoenix listened hard. “Donna and Iceman are in position. The bikers are talking among themselves.”
“You can hear them?” Personally I could only pick up natural sounds of wind rustling through dry grass, of breeze shaking the fall leaves in the aspens. “Do we know who’s there?”
“I can tell you how many, but not who they are. Iceman’s saying maybe twelve or thirteen. He and Donna are starting to drive them along the ridge. Arizona and the others will soon be behind them, piling on the pressure.”
“I hope they leave without a fight.” I shivered. I wasn’t so comfortable now that the light had faded and I knew we couldn’t light any lamps that would give away our presence. We sat in the dark, waiting.
“It’s working—they’re riding away,” Phoenix reported. “Once we set up the barriers, they’re not so tough.”
I pictured fear spreading among the bikers, rising from uneasy jitters as the invisible wings began to beat, to a jolting panic as the death-heads began to swoop, and then a crazy mindlessness. For all their beer-fueled bravado, they would crouch low over their handlebars, turn up their engines, and ride the hell out.
