THE DEVIL’S PAWN
MARILYN LEVINSON
Booktrope Editions
Seattle, WA 2015
COPYRIGHT 2015 MARILYN LEVINSON
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Cover Design by Greg Simanson
Edited by Laurel Busch
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to similarly named places or to persons living or deceased is unintentional.
PRINT ISBN: 978-1-5137-0215-5
EPUB ISBN: 978-1-5137-0257-5
Library of Congress Control Number: 2015911805
TABLE OF CONTENTS
COVER
TITLE PAGE
COPYRIGHT PAGE
DEDICATION
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
EPILOGUE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MORE GREAT YOUNG ADULT READS FROM BOOKTROPE
For David,
the man in my life
CHAPTER ONE
I’D ALMOST MADE IT to the front door when my uncle called to me. “Gregory, do you have a minute?”
I exhaled loudly, not bothering to hide my annoyance. “How many times have I told you my name is Simon? Simon Porte.”
“Sorry.” Raymond gave a fake little laugh. “I still think of you as Gregory Davenport. My office, please.”
As I followed my uncle across the hall, it struck me that he was looking fit, a far cry from the pale, sickly man I’d first met two and a half months ago. But the rotten vegetables odor of illness still hung about him, something only a person with my super-keen senses would notice.
“Have a seat.”
He pointed to a chair, but I remained standing near the doorway. His office gave off negative vibes that kept me on my guard. I didn’t much like this relative who had shown up out of the blue at the high school I’d been attending back in Pennsylvania. He had had the right credentials and looked enough like my dad to convince me he was my father’s older brother. Since I’d just lost my immediate family, I had had no choice but to come live with Raymond Davenport and his wife in upstate New York.
Now he sat in his chair behind his power desk and smiled. “I was wondering how you’ve been. After all, I’ve been away for the better part of a week.”
What is he really after? “I’m the same since you saw me at dinner half an hour ago.”
“You’re eating well, I noticed. Keeping fit and in great shape.”
How weird is this? “Aunt Mary’s a good cook.”
“But, as I recall, you hardly said a word.”
“What should I say?” I asked.
“You might tell me how you like your summer job at Shady Brook Day Camp.”
“It’s okay.”
“Craig—Mr. Averil—says you’re doing a great job helping the swim instructor.”
I shifted from side to side, eager to leave.
Raymond leaned forward on his desk and winked. “Have a girlfriend, do you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Craig tells me there are some pretty girls at camp.”
This is getting ridiculous. “Uncle Raymond, I have to go. My friends are waiting for me.”
“You mean Brian Coltrane’s twins?”
I didn’t much like his snarky tone. “Is there a problem?”
“Of course not. I only wonder if they’re your type.”
I gave a humorless laugh. “What’s my type?”
Andy and Pol were oddballs, all right—chubby Andy, the computer nerd, and his beanpole-skinny sister, Pol, her nose always in a book, music blaring from her ear buds. Sure, they were nothing like the kids I’d hung out with before the accident. Then again, before the accident I’d been a totally different person.
Raymond got to his feet. “I’m going out myself to a town meeting.”
I smiled. Interview over. “Have a good one.” I turned to leave.
“Be home by ten,” Raymond called after me. “You have to get up early in the morning.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He’d be lucky if I got in by ten thirty.
I stepped out into the fading daylight and started jogging toward the elementary school five blocks away. I kept to an easy pace the first block or two, upping my speed gradually the way Dad had taught me. I deleted my little chat with Raymond from my thoughts and began to feel upbeat. Moving fast always improved my mood. Running, swimming, cycling—it didn’t matter what I did—as long as my pulse raced and I expended energy. It was the only way I could manage the dark moods that tormented me these days.
I felt a twinge of guilt for mouthing off at my uncle. I was usually respectful to older people, but he bugged me like no one else on this planet. Like calling me Gregory all the time. He knew it bothered the hell out of me, but he kept on doing it. I had no idea why my parents had changed our name from Davenport to Porte, or why I was now Simon when I’d been named Gregory at birth. And now I’d never find out.
I ought to feel grateful to my aunt and uncle for having taken me in, but they were almost as weird as the religious fanatics I’d lived with for two months. Aunt Mary tiptoed around the large house like she was afraid of her own shadow and Raymond treated me like I was six years old, especially where money was concerned. He doled out ten dollars every Saturday morning like he was handing over a thousand bucks. And he refused to pay the services for my computer, smartphone, and iPod. I felt totally unconnected without them.
Andy and Pol were waiting for me by the swings. Pol was swaying back and forth, her head bobbing to music she listened to on her iPhone, while her brother fiddled with his.
“You’re late,” Andy complained, as I knew he would. The kid was a stickler for punctuality.
“Sorry. My uncle just got in from a business trip and dinner was delayed. Then I had to help my aunt clear the table.”
Pol chuckled. “Getting their money’s worth out of your hide, are they?”
I sat down on the swing beside her and we moved slowly in tandem. “I don’t mind helping around the house. I’ve had chores to do since I can remember. Besides, Aunt Mary’s very…sweet,” I finally said. It was kinder than “boring” and “dull.”
Andy laughed. “She doesn’t say much, does she? Leaves all the talking to Raymond.”
“You don’t like him,” I said.
“Do you?” Pol a
sked.
I shrugged, not wanting to tell them how much he creeped me out. “I never knew he existed until he brought me here in April. He knows zilch about raising kids.”
“He sure knows how to change laws to make himself richer,” Andy said.
It amazed me how he and Pol—totally clueless when it came to sports and kids’ stuff—knew what was going on around town.
“In fact,” Andy went on, “your uncle called the town meeting tonight. Claimed it’s something important. I bet we’re in for bad news.”
I laughed. “And you know this earth-shattering piece of information because...?”
“Because knowing what’s going on in Buckley is more interesting than memorizing some baseball player’s stats. My sources keep my informed.”
“Your sources, eh? Well, let me know what you find out about the meeting tonight,” I said, to change the subject and not because I was interested in my uncle’s business affairs.
Andy’s eyes blazed with anger. “Raymond Davenport worships the almighty dollar. He builds where he wants and what he wants, and doesn’t care if it’s good for Buckley. He should be run out of town!”
“Andy, shut up!” Pol said. “You don’t bad-mouth someone’s relative.”
“I’m educating Simon about his uncle Raymond. If we don’t, who will?”
Pol stopped swinging and fixed her gaze on me. It was too dark to see her amazing blue-green eyes, but I felt them studying me.
“Did you hear?” she asked. “A girl died yesterday, over in Chatham Falls.”
Death. My stomach started swirling.
“She was going to visit her cousin two blocks away, only she never got there. It was dusk—like it is right now. They found her the next day, lying on the side of a road outside of town.”
Andy said, “The weird thing is, there were no wounds or bruises on her body. No sign of strangulation, stabbing, head wound, or gunshot. Just like the other one.”
Pol yanked her brother’s arm. “We don’t need the details.”
“You started it. I’m just filling in the facts.”
“Poor kid,” Pol said. “Melissa went to Shady Brook, but I didn’t know her.”
A band squeezed my chest so tightly I could barely breathe. “Not Melissa Gordon.”
“Uh-huh,” Andy said. “They think she was murdered.”
“Murdered? I can’t believe it. Last week I was teaching her to swim.”
“I’m so sorry, Simon,” Pol said.
“She was nine years old,” I mumbled. “The same age Lucy would be...”
The twins stared at me.
“Who’s Lucy?” Pol asked.
I shook my head. “Gotta go.”
I took off like a lightning bolt, desperate to get away. I ran down a street I’d never been on before, rubbing away tears brought on by thoughts of my dead sister. I was angry at myself for breaking the one rule I’d set for myself since losing my family: keep your cool, no matter what. But Melissa Gordon! Jeez! She was a cute little thing—two skinny pigtails and a good belly laugh. What monster would kill a kid like that? A few days ago I’d finally got her to put her head in the water. How proud she had been!
I raced across the road and into the path of an SUV. The driver honked, but I was already flying past him.
The twins didn’t know Lucy was my baby sister because I’d never told them about the accident that had taken my family and left me an orphan. I knew they wondered why I’d come to live with my aunt and uncle, but, for once, even Andy knew not to ask questions.
I gulped down air, forcing myself to run faster. Faster. Still, I couldn’t stop the memories from gliding across my brain like a slideshow: camping out with my parents when I was six and Lucy hadn’t been born, seeing my first Broadway show, Lucy’s second birthday party when....
I finally managed to make my mind go blank. I have to be strong so I can get through each day. I said it again and again. I was fifteen years old and alone in the world. The only person I could count on was me.
I slowed down to a jog as I approached Buckley’s Main Street. I passed well-lit stores closed for the night, though the supermarket and eating places were still open. People sat at tables outside the coffee house, talking and laughing like they hadn’t a care in the world.
I stopped to catch my breath in front of the new glass and brick firehouse half a block away. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. I walked in circles until my heart rate returned to normal.
I felt calmer now, more in control. I wouldn’t grieve for a little girl I hardly knew. And I wouldn’t mull over the past. Brooding served no purpose and got you nowhere.
I retraced my steps to the coffee shop. In the men’s room, I splashed water on my face and then went to the counter to order a large soda, which I carried outside. I rarely treated myself from the measly allowance my uncle gave me, but I needed it tonight. I raised the bottle.
Here’s to you, Melissa, I saluted her silently. May you rest in peace.
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN I GOT HOME, I found Aunt Mary watching TV in the family room. The room was in shadows and the volume so low I wondered how she could make out the words.
“Hi, Aunt Mary. I’m back.”
She smiled up at me. “Did you have a nice evening with your friends?”
“It was okay.”
“There are cookies in the pantry,” she said as she did every evening.
“I’m not hungry, thanks. I’m going up to my room.”
“Good night, then, Simon.” She turned back to her program.
Weird! I took the stairs two at a time. Aunt Mary was like a robot. She prepared our meals, kept the house in order, and watched TV at night. She didn’t seem to resent having me live with them, but she wasn’t welcoming either. Maybe that was just her personality, since she related to Raymond in the same remote way.
I managed to put aside all thoughts of Melissa and my family, and got ready for bed. I read a few pages of a sci-fi novel Andy had loaned me. When I started yawning, I switched off my lamp and fell asleep. The next thing I knew, my uncle was calling my name.
“Simon, wake up!”
“What’s wrong? What happened?” My heart pounded like a jackhammer.
“Time to get up.” Raymond turned on my desk lamp.
I looked at the clock. “It’s three in the morning! I’m going back to sleep.” I pulled the pillow over my head.
“No, you’re not!”
He sat on my bed and grabbed my shoulders so I’d face him. “Look at me.”
I tried to turn away, but he gripped my chin.
“Cut it out! What’s wrong with you? Are you some kind of pervert?”
“Look at me,” Raymond repeated. His corneas appeared black, with pinpoints of light where the irises should have been.
I tried to close my eyes, but his gaze held mine as fiercely as his hands clutched my shoulders.
I was falling through space. The pinpoints of light widened into a circle of brightness, and I was in the center. Energy as powerful as electricity poured into my palms. The current gathered momentum and coursed through my body. A pressure expanded inside my head.
“Stop! You’re hurting me!”
“Hush,” Raymond admonished. “It’s almost over. Soon you’ll sleep and forget this ever happened.”
I moaned. The pressure receded down my torso and my limbs. A blanket of fatigue stilled my fears and dulled my mind and body. I was barely aware of Raymond settling the covers around me. “Sleep, Gregory, and forget,” he whispered as I drifted off.
I awoke the next morning feeling groggy. I let out a yelp as I sat up because my head ached something awful. Bits and pieces of a terrifying nightmare floated to the surface of my mind. The cloaked figure of a man—my uncle?—was hypnotizing me, forcing me to… to… I couldn’t remember any more of the dream.
In the bathroom, I swallowed two aspirin dry. I pulled on a swimsuit and a polo shirt, feeling as jumpy as if I’d downed several energy drin
ks. Come to think of it, I’d had that soda last night. Was it responsible for the strange images passing through my head—an eagle swooping down for its prey, someone getting a blood transfusion in a hospital?
I had to grip the banister for support as I made my way downstairs. I wondered if I was well enough to give swimming lessons today. Even if I wasn’t, I was going to camp. No way was I staying in this house another minute longer than I had to.
“Good morning, Simon,” Aunt Mary said as I came into the kitchen. “Would you like some orange juice?”
“Yes, please.”
I sat at my place at the oval table and drank my juice. I was glad to see that Raymond’s place had been cleared.
“Your uncle Raymond left for the office already. He has a lot of work to catch up on.”
Raymond. I frowned as I struggled to remember the awful dream. My uncle was in it. He was trying to…trying to…. Damn! I couldn’t bring it back. Maybe the dream had given me the awful headache I woke up with.
“Looks like a nice day today,” Aunt Mary commented as she set out cold cereal and milk for my breakfast. Then she sat in her chair and opened the newspaper.
“Anything in the paper about that poor girl who died?” I asked.
“What poor girl are you talking about?”
“Her name’s Melissa Gordon. She went to Shady Brook. I used to give her swimming lessons.”
“There’s no such article in the paper, Simon. Eat your cereal.”
“But I am eating…” I stopped talking because Aunt Mary had left the kitchen.
I turned on the radio and zipped through stations, hoping to hear something about Melissa. Nothing. I finished my breakfast, then packed my gear bag.
“Aunt Mary, I’m leaving,” I shouted up the stairs.
She didn’t answer. I shrugged. My aunt and uncle sure were strange. I went outside to wait for the camp bus. It wouldn’t be coming for another ten minutes, but the house was creeping me out.
I leaned against a tree, mulling over my situation. I was beginning to hate it here, as much as I’d hated living with the religious whack jobs who had me praying on my knees three times a day. Why couldn’t I end up with normal people for a change?
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