by Eden Maguire
‘The order was to keep everyone out,’ Dean repeated. ‘And if anyone tried to break through the barrier, my order was to send that person right back where they came from.’
‘No, wait!’ Desperately I tried to raise my hand to shield my head, as if by doing that I could stop him wiping my memory clean. I knew all too well that this was a second offence and that this time I would stay wiped. ‘Don’t do it. Summer is short of time, her twelve months is almost up. She needs me – don’t zap me, please!’
Dean leaned forward again, this time to seize me by the wrist and drag me upright into the whirl of beating wings. ‘I can get right inside your head,’ he reminded me, drawing me to within centimetres of his face. ‘I can see every thought in there.’
‘Then you know I won’t do anything to harm the Beautiful Dead,’ I cried. ‘You can see I love Phoenix more than the world!’
Dean’s gaze burned into me, he held me helpless and squirming, deciding whether or not to rob me of the memories I clung to and toss me back into the world like a piece of flotsam from a wrecked ship.
Another voice broke the terror of that moment. ‘Let her go,’ Donna told him. ‘Hunter says to bring her down to the barn.’
I’d asked Donna for an explanation and got no answers. All she did was to clutch the collar of her long woollen coat tight around her throat as she led me and Dean down the hill and across the yard, leaving us at the open barn door.
‘This isn’t about me,’ I tried to tell him. ‘I came to help Summer.’
Dean stared blankly back at me, a typical ex-cop – square-shouldered, square-jawed, bone-headed, silent.
‘Don’t you know how little time she has left? Two weeks! The clock is ticking here!’
Still he gave me nothing back.
‘So what do we do now?’ I demanded. I stood in the glaring sun, looking round and hoping to see Phoenix stride out of the house or across the meadow.
Instead, it was Hunter, stooping as he came out through the front door then standing legs apart on the porch, fingers hooked into his jeans pockets, staring coldly at me. ‘I hope this isn’t a social visit,’ he said.
I wanted to yell at him: ‘Look at my shirt, look what this goon did to me!’ But you didn’t yell at Hunter, you waited for his next move.
‘Good job, Dean,’ he said as he stepped down from the porch. ‘You see how it works?’
Dean nodded. ‘It’s neat. No sane person can stand up to that kind of treatment.’
‘No, they always turn and run,’ Hunter agreed. ‘They get home with a sore head and no clue as to what happened out here.’
‘Hold it!’ I couldn’t help it, I had to speak out. ‘What am I, some kind of experiment that Dean gets to test out his supernatural powers on?’
Hunter had joined us by the barn door. He narrowed his eyes and did his telepathy thing on me, making me step back and look down at the ground. ‘Yeah, Darina, you’re an experiment, a work in progress.’
‘And what about Dean? Where exactly does he fit in?’ Dean wasn’t like the other Beautiful Dead – he was way older for a start.
Hunter considered his answer carefully. ‘Firstly, Dean holds information specific to Summer’s case, and that could be useful to us,’ he explained. ‘Second, he steps into my shoes when I’m done here. Meanwhile, there’s a whole lot for him to learn.’
‘When you’re done …?’ I faltered, my gaze flicking from one man to the other. ‘That makes Dean an overlord, like you?’
‘An overlord like me.’ Hunter smiled at my confusion. ‘You thought I was the only one and that I was around for ever?’
‘For as long as Phoenix and the others needed to come back to the far side,’ I admitted. What I was feeling was a strange sort of panic. True, Hunter scared the hell out of me and angered me and always stood in the way between me and Phoenix, but I also felt a bond with him that I didn’t want to loosen.
‘Not true,’ he said. ‘I take orders too.’
Who from? Who told Hunter when his job was done?
What happened then? Was he trapped in limbo without ever knowing exactly what had taken place between his wife and Peter Mentone?
‘You brought something to show me?’ he asked, following my thoughts and swiftly forcing things onwards.
I didn’t bring out the picture of Fichtner right away, I was still too mad about my hostile reception. So I dug in my heels and stayed with the discovery I’d made about Mentone, plus the stuff about Marie’s baby girl, Hester. ‘I’ve been doing some work,’ I muttered. ‘It’s crazy what you can find on the net.’
Hunter read my thoughts again and his eyelids flickered shut. Dean glanced at him with a worried frown.
‘Stuff from way back,’ I taunted. I admit I was enjoying seeing Hunter knocked off balance for once. ‘Records from old murder cases, newspaper reports, you name it.’
Hunter looked up with a flash of anger in his steel-grey eyes. ‘Darina, that’s enough! Give me the picture.’
That flash had hit me like an electric shock and made me tremble as, helplessly, I pulled the photograph out of my pocket and handed it to Hunter. ‘Scott Fichtner. He’s linked to two shootings,’ I muttered. ‘The pattern of events is the same as what happened to Summer in Ellerton.’
As I spoke her name, she emerged from the shadows of the barn into the light. The sun caught her hair, shining gold against the palest, unblemished skin of her face and neck. Now that the weather had turned warmer, she was wearing a low-cut, sleeveless white shirt with sprigs of blue flowers, with a flowing dark-blue skirt that showed only her ankles and the silver strappy sandals on her feet. She looked so young as she walked towards me with an uncertain smile.
Hunter briefly studied the Fichtner picture then showed it to Dean. He gestured for Summer to join us. ‘Share your new theory with Summer,’ he instructed me.
Still trembling, I took a deep breath. ‘There’s a guy going around the country shooting people in shopping malls – one in Florida, one in New Jersey. Maybe he’s our man, so I brought his photograph.’
Summer’s eyes widened in her delicate face and she put up her hand to cover the dark angel-wing tattoo placed high above her heart on her death-white flesh. It was the first time I’d seen the death mark and it made me gasp.
‘Take a look,’ Hunter invited her. ‘Do you recognize him?’
For Summer I could tell it was like stepping up to the executioner’s block – to look at that picture, possibly to come face to face with her killer. All of a sudden I wanted to snatch the photo back and spare her the trauma. I took a quick step forward.
Dean stopped me with one of his clumsy, over-the-top zombie zaps. Ouch!
Hunter handed Summer the print of Scott Fichtner’s photograph.
She never was able to conceal her feelings – her features were too fine and open, her responses too immediate. So I saw her eyelids flutter and her bottom lip quiver, I saw the look of pain in her violet eyes.
‘Is it him?’ Hunter asked.
She gasped again as if she was struggling for breath. Loosening her grip, she let the picture flutter to the ground and rest between her feet.
‘Let me go to her!’ I begged Dean, who kept me pinned to the spot.
Summer staggered sideways just as Phoenix came out of the barn. He caught her and swept her into his arms, carried her back into the barn while Hunter, Dean and I looked on.
Was I jealous? If I say that I was, does that make me a bad person?
I held the image of Phoenix gathering Summer up and it scrambled my brain. I was out of control, thinking a thousand unworthy thoughts.
I mean, Summer and Phoenix spent all their time together, they were both Beautiful Dead.
Hunter let me stew for a whole hour after Phoenix took Summer away. He put me on the porch with Dean then followed them into the barn, closing the door after him.
Dean sat with his feet up on the rail, his hands clasped across this stomach. I noticed his thick, hairy forearms, his
blunt fingernails and glinting gold watchstrap. ‘So Darina, you think you’re on to something,’ he said after what seemed like a century of silence.
‘I don’t know. Maybe.’
‘Scott Fichtner looks like our man, huh?’
‘Maybe,’ I said again.
‘You reckon Summer recognized him and that’s what made her drop to the ground?’
‘He ticks the boxes,’ I argued. I couldn’t tear my thoughts away from Phoenix and Summer inside the barn. My gaze kept being drawn to the faded door with the moose head keeping glassy-eyed watch from above.
‘You’re talking serial killer,’ Dean went on in an amused tone, like he’d seen a hundred homicides and I was the rookie cop. ‘A kid obsessed with guns. He keeps a whole arsenal stashed in his grandparents’ basement, he fantasizes about racking up a record number of victims before he finally turns the gun on himself and blows his own brains out.’
‘That’s sick, to joke about it like that,’ I muttered. Truly, my stomach was turning.
‘We’re a sick society,’ he reminded me. ‘And I’m not exactly joking. But what if you’re wrong, Darina?’
‘You don’t know that I am,’ I protested. ‘You need to give Summer some time to study the picture and make up her mind.’
‘You saw her killer, didn’t you? Do you think Fichtner did it?’
‘I only caught a glimpse – I can’t be sure. But he shot Summer point blank, face to face – she would have got a better look.’
‘That’s supposing she can recall his face.’ Dean spoke slow and flat, like he was discussing the contents of a grocery list. ‘My guess is, she can’t.’
‘We don’t know that!’
‘Believe me – we do.’ He let a long silence develop. ‘So, suppose you’re wrong and there’s another possibility – maybe a local connection after all. And maybe not random.’
Up until this point I’d been leaning against the rail, but now I stood straight up, recalling Hunter’s explanation that Dean had been brought in with information specific to Summer’s case. ‘How could it not be random? Summer had no enemies. No one in the world would want to harm her.’
‘Take it easy,’ Dean sighed. ‘Think about it. For instance, think jealousy – you sure know all about that, Darina.’
‘I’m not … you don’t suppose … no way!’ Glancing towards the barn, I spread my palms and spluttered a denial. ‘You think I’m jealous of Summer!’
‘Right now you’re under the thumb of the green-eyed monster. You’re wondering what they’re doing in there and how come Phoenix was right on the spot to save her.’
‘Jeez!’ I groaned, sitting on the chair next to him. ‘I give up, Dean. I’m a heap of crap.’
For the first time a smile crept on to his face. ‘You’re a kid,’ he said. ‘You’re allowed. So I’m about to give you a piece of advice. Not about Phoenix and Summer, and not about jealousy – I’m only a cop and that’s not my territory. This is about Scott Fichtner.’
‘And?’ I prompted after another of Dean’s heavy silences.
‘I say it’s a long shot. I reckon you should look closer to home. And I’m not saying Summer had enemies, though I do guess she had people who were jealous of her – the way she looks, the way she sings, the girl who had everything.’
‘OK,’ I said slowly.
‘And a talented girl like her gets herself known. Fans download her music, they love her and want a piece of her, including all the crazies who creep out from under a stone.’
JakB! Summer’s ‘number one fan’. The idea hit me like a hammer blow to the head and I kicked myself for not thinking of this before.
‘Am I right or am I wrong?’ Dean asked, watching my face closely. ‘And consider something else, a whole other theory. What if a gunman came into the mall with a specific other intention and Summer was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?’
‘So we’re back to the original random-shooting theory?’ Ideas were crowding in now and I was already shelving my Fichtner suspicions for half a dozen new ones.
‘It happens,’ Dean insisted. Then he lowered his feet from the rail, stood up and walked slowly to the far end of the porch. ‘You’ve been wondering exactly what I’m doing here, haven’t you, Darina?’
‘To shadow Hunter,’ I said. ‘To eventually step into his shoes.’
‘But why now?’
‘Because you were a cop,’ I answered slowly.
He nodded. ‘In Ellerton, at the time Summer was shot.’
‘You worked on the case?’ I came in fast this time, talking over him.
‘No, I was on vacation. But I was back in the office a week later. I picked up a few pieces of information.’
‘Something that would give us an actual lead?’ All of a sudden I saw the whole picture, why Hunter had brought in Dean like he had.
‘There were no clear trails,’ he warned. ‘But plenty of theories. Listen – I’m going to give you a name and I want you to talk to the guy, OK?’
‘Tell me.’
‘This is a uniformed officer who was on duty in the mall at the time of the shooting, and his name is Henry Jardine. You got that?’
‘He’s deputy sheriff,’ I muttered. I recognized it straight away as the name Zak Rohr had dropped in – he was the cop who had handled the fire-setting incident.
‘That’s the guy. Look him up, Darina.’
I made a mental note – just in time, because I saw the barn door open and Phoenix walk out alone.
‘Go,’ Dean told me without looking round. He’d heard the creak of the door hinges. ‘Go talk to your boyfriend, clear the air. But after that you go on home and you knock on Henry Jardine’s door. And when you talk with him, you mention my name.’
‘Walk with me,’ Phoenix said.
He led the way down to the creek and we sat by the water, staring at the twisting eddies and sparkling reflections on the surface.
‘I’m sorry,’ I stammered. My self-worth had reached zero; I was wrecked by the effort not to give away those bad, bad, jealous thoughts.
‘What are you afraid of?’ he asked, looking closely at me.
I was staring straight ahead at the cloud of white spring flowers just opened out amongst the sage bushes on the opposite bank, refusing to meet his eye.
‘You already know,’ I sighed.
‘So tell me. Say it out loud.’
I looked at him at last and tears brimmed over. ‘I’m scared, in spite of everything, you don’t love me any more.’
‘Because of what you saw back there by the barn? You think Summer and I … that there’s some chemistry?’
I nodded and the tears trickled down my cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry, Phoenix.’
Placing his fingers under my chin, he kept my face directed towards him.
‘Summer and I have a heap of things in common,’ he told me straight. ‘I never really talked with her before, when we were both on the far side. There was no time to get to know her. But sure, we spend a lot of time together now.’
Oh God, my heart was sinking. I tried to steel myself for what was coming next.
‘I’m totally in awe of her,’ Phoenix said. ‘How can anyone not be?’
‘She’s amazing,’ I whispered, trapped in the miserable, jolting certainty that Phoenix had fallen in love with Summer. ‘Not just the obvious stuff, like her music and the way she looks, but I mean she’s an amazing person.’
‘Generous,’ he agreed. ‘And warm and funny – the total package.’
I shook my head and twisted away from him, waiting for the axe to fall. What would I do now? How could I go on?
‘But,’ Phoenix said, standing up then pulling me to my feet and keeping hold of both my hands. ‘Baby, watch my lips – I do not love Summer Madison!’
Another shock wave went through my whole body.
‘Darina, don’t be scared,’ he went on gently, his voice hardly audible. ‘You know something? This is the first time I’ve wished you were on
e of us. You want to know why? Because if you were Beautiful Dead, right now you could read my mind.’
I closed my eyes for long, long seconds then took a deep breath and dared to look at him again. ‘I wish the same thing. Often. In fact, every minute of every day I want to be with you, and for ever.’
He smiled sadly. ‘That’s how it is, if only you would believe me. Remember – I’ll never let you go.’
I breathed in his words, absorbed them into my heart. ‘I’m in school at a rehearsal and it looks like I’m into it, playing my part. But really my head is in a different space, out here at Foxton. I’m wondering where you are, what you’re doing. I’m hoping you’re not in danger.’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ he murmured. He pulled me closer to him. ‘I have supernatural powers, remember!’
‘Yeah, zap – kerpow!’ I tried to smile back but the tears kept on falling. ‘I’m looking for you around every corner, waiting for you to materialize. I’m hating Hunter for not letting you.’
‘And you’re over this jealousy thing?’ he checked. ‘Or do you want to talk with Summer about it too?’
‘No,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m over it!’
‘So now it’s my turn.’ Phoenix ran his fingers through my hair, then took my hand to walk slowly upstream. Our feet brushed through the tender spring grass and small white and purple flowers. ‘So I’m Superman but I have human weakness too.’
‘Confession time!’ I sighed. ‘Go ahead, tell.’
‘I think about you too – all the time. I’m wanting to know what you’re doing, who you’re with. Way out here in Foxton, sometimes there’s no way I can know.’
‘You have to wait until Hunter sends you?’
Phoenix nodded. ‘He keeps me on a tight leash. There’s nothing I can do. Sometimes he sends Donna or Iceman – they report back that they’ve seen you at rehearsal for Summer’s concert, or with Logan at your house.’
‘Nothing happened!’ I cried, much too fast. ‘Logan held my hand and listened to stuff about my dad leaving home – that’s it, end of story!’
‘He held your hand?’ This was news to Phoenix and he tried hard to swallow it. ‘OK, good.’
