“Kay, see you.” I waved. “That was too close.” Jenny Jenkins was nice enough, but she was always looking for someone to watch Mable. No ifs, ands, or butts about it, Mable was on her way to becoming a full-fledged brat. Dinner at her house would consist of Jenny getting tipsy on wine and chitchatting up her guests while she unloaded Mable on me. Then I would get stuck at the kiddies’ table, squashed between little Jimmy Jenkins and Timmy, his twin brother, who had a fascination with breasts. They liked to poke them with their stubby fingers and yell “booobies.” Then I would get to clean up the dishes. I knew this because I made the mistake of going last year.
No. Thank. You.
Bending over, I picked up the little silver bucket of chalk off the sidewalk and walked back inside the coffee shop.
Mrs. Hayward and Ms. Collins had their heads together in the corner and looked to be in a deep discussion. Grabbing the remote off the table, I flipped on the television. The Barefoot Contessa’s velvety soft, slightly raspy voice filled the room as I fixed the chairs and pushed them back under the tables. She reminded me of a Christmas cookie…warm and sugary. I bet she would be a good hugger.
I picked up a gray bin from the corner and cleared off the tables from the morning rush. Pulling out a rag from my gingham apron, I wiped off the coffee rings and moved on to the next table.
This was the slow time in the café; it was after the morning rush but before lunch. After placing the cups in the tub, I lifted up a newspaper someone had left and a small clip caught my eye. Unfolding the paper, I spread it out on the table.
“DESERTED CAR FOUND NEAR THE BOTTOMLESS POOLS”
The article went on to say the car was from out of state and unfortunately, whoever was driving may have become another casualty of the bottomless pools. Of course, there was still no body found, so who knew. Maybe they got lucky and took their asses back across the old rickety wooden monstrosity of a bridge that covered the expanse of fifty- or sixty-feet and hovered above the steaming, bottomless pools. The pools had a bad undertow and had a tendency to suck things to who knew where. It was such a shame, too. Didn’t anyone read the signs posted all around the pools? And they were big, too, saying things like:
“BEWARE UNDERTOW”
“CAUTION DO NOT ENTER”
“DANGEROUS”
Not to mention the biggest deterrent of all, if you asked me. It was the one that read:
“PRIVATE PROPERTY
NO TRESSPASSING
$1500 FINE”
Besides, my ass wouldn’t swim in the water, and I lived here; neither would any of the other locals. It was probably another “Granola” tripping on something, who decided to rediscover their youth by taking a dip in the pools. At one time, the town’s big catchphrase had been… “Briarcliff: A place to reinvigorate your senses and rediscover your youth.” It should have said, “Briarcliff: A place to disappear for like…ever.”
At least that is what happened to a few of the out-of-towners. They went missing. Either that or Briarcliff had become the new place to dump your car, but then what happened to the people driving them? Now that was the million-dollar question. Since no bodies had ever been found, it was hard to cry foul-play.
I had my own ideas about what might have happened to them, but tended to keep them to myself since they were pretty out-there. “Oh well.” I crumpled up the paper and took my shot. “And she does it!” I cheered. “Two points! Beat that, Hanna!” I walked over to the chalkboard behind the counter and gave myself another point.
Hanna worked for my parents at the coffee shop, too. She was a space cadet…a very “we are not alone” type of girl. I didn’t mind, though—she was nice. Although, I wished she would show up to work on time, for once. Not that Hanna got paid much, but hey, at least she had a job.
Hanna and her boy -toy, Aaron, could hang and talk alien crap to each other all night. He was Scully. Hanna was Mulder. They dubbed themselves that from an old television show called The X-Files … at least that’s what was written on their t-shirts. They were even saving up to go to Roswell, New Mexico, where the aliens crash-landed, “supposedly.” They were the ultimate conspiracy theorists. Hanna liked to wear her alien antenna headband, too. The little sparkles continually flew off the green b-balls on springs and always ended up getting into some random customer’s coffee…like they needed anything else to complain about. Coffee was a great markup, but when you had to give it away free, it really put a damper on the profit margin.
Grabbing a pot of coffee, I headed over to the only occupied table.
“I am telling you Jill, those two are so perfect for one another,” Mrs. Hayward gushed.
I reached in between the two women, and lifted up one of the oversized cups for a refill.
“Heather and Kingston remind me of when Charles and I first started dating. Young love,” she exhaled and smiled wistfully.
The coffee pot shook in my hand and hot coffee sloshed over the side, burning my fingers. Gritting my teeth, I quickly set the cup back on the table.
“I just wish Barnaby would find someone, Marion,” Jill was saying.
I bit back the pain and reached out to grab another cup.
“Oh, no thank you.” Mrs. Hayward covered the cup with her hand. “Just the check when you get a moment, dear.”
Reaching into my apron, I dropped the check. “I’ll be right back.”
“No, wait.” Kingston’s mother reached out and grabbed my hand. I would have groaned in pain but her fingers were unusually cold and felt really-good on my burn as she pressed a crisp bill into my palm.
“Let me get you some change.”
“Nonsense,” Mrs. Hayward said. “You keep it.”
I uncurled my fingers and looked down at the fifty-dollar bill. “Wow! Thanks, Mrs. Hayward.”
“Don’t mention it.” She waved her hand and her huge diamond glittered under the lights. “You need it more than I do, dear.”
Bitch. I forced a smile. “Awesome.”
As if on cue, the door flew open; the little bell over the top tinkled and in walked Heather Bishop, my arch nemesis with her little butt-kiss minions, Addison and Brianna Kincaid
“Lucky me.” I shoved the fifty in my apron and walked back behind the counter. Pulling out my reserve bottle of Aloe Vera, I put a glop of gel on my burnt fingers.
Just so, I wouldn’t have to suffer through another one of Heather’s evil Cujo glares, I pretended to act busy. I had dubbed Heather that the last time she was in the café and had taken a drink of her cappuccino. The froth stuck to her top lip and she reminded me of Cujo, a rabies-infected dog from an old Steven King movie. Bitch was probably more accurate, but Cujo was funnier.
Heather tapped her fake nails on the counter.
The sound reminded me of a dog tippy-tapping on the floor. I bet she dragged her ass on the carpet too.
Taking a breath, I turned around with a fake smile plastered on my face. “Oh hey, Heather, what can I do you for today?”
Heather looked over my shoulder, which made me want to turn to see what was behind me. It drove me crazy.
Addison and Brianna gasped, and trotted over to the end of the counter. They were identical twins with disturbingly bright blue eyes and complexions so pale they made Casper look tan. Their unruly red hair was pushed back away from their faces with thick black plastic headbands, and tied off into ponytails that were pulled over their thin shoulders.
Once again, they all were wearing similar outfits. Did they call each other to coordinate? I couldn’t help but wonder. Each of them wore snug cotton button-ups and short plaid skirts. They all looked like they were wearing uniforms, except Briarcliff Academy didn’t have uniforms. The only differences in the outfits were the colors and what designer purse they had jacked up on their shoulders.
“Oh, this one looks good.” Brianna pointed to a chocolate éclair in the glass dessert case filled with French Pastries.
“No, let’s get this one,”
Addison leaned forward and pointed to a chocolate croissant.
“Those are really good,” I told them, trying to be helpful.
They both wrinkled their noses in displeasure and acted like I hadn’t even spoken.
“What did you make recently?” Heather piped in, and then added on a nastier note, “I certainly don’t want that burnt shit you served me last time.”
I fought the urge to roll my eyes. It killed me to be nice to Heather. “I just made some mocha java…sound good?”
Heather scrunched up her face in distaste. “No, that doesn’t sound good.”
“Okay.” I bit back a sigh.
“Do you have any hazelnut made?”
I turned around and looked. The pot was empty. “No, sorry,” I said and turned back around.
“Good, I’ll take some Hazelnut then.” Heather smirked.
“Oh, we want some, too. We want some, too,” the twins excitedly said in unison.
“Okie-dokie, coming right up,” I said as cheerfully as I could and wiped my hands on my apron. Walking over to the back wall, I grabbed the ladder which made a screeching noise as I dragged it across to the opposite end. Grabbing hold of the wrung, I climbed up the ladder and grabbed the last bag of Hazelnut off the top shelf, making a mental note to order some more.
“Oh, you know what,” Heather called. “Is there any iced tea made?”
I looked down at the machine—dry as a bone. Shoot. “Nah, sorry, I haven’t had a chance to make any more, yet.”
“I’ll take that instead,” Heather snipped.
“Oh, us too, us too,” Addison and Brianna Kincaid both added.
Good lord, I felt like I was in a cave with all the echoing going on. Just because they were twins didn’t mean they had to say everything twice, in plural. “Got it,” I told them and headed back down the ladder. Placing the bag on the counter, I walked over to the opposite end and pulled out the tea from under the cabinet. Once I added the bags and hit the brew button, I turned back around. Big surprise, Heather was glaring right at me. I chewed on the inside of my cheek to stop from saying anything.
“You know what?” Heather tapped the counter. “I think I’ll have that hazelnut after all.” She rubbed her thin arms for effect. “I’m feeling a bit chilled all of a sudden.”
“How did I know that was coming?” I muttered.
“What did you say?”
“I said,” I told her slowly. “Sure. Not. A. Problem.” I forced the words out, trying to be nice. Mom always told me if I didn’t have anything nice to say I shouldn’t say anything at all. It would have been nice if Heather’s mom had said the same.
“Oh, us too, us too,” Brianna and Addison echoed.
My shoulders tensed.
The door opened and the bell trilled again.
Hanna rushed in, a blur of bright blue hair and dark purple-glossed lips. She had her hair pulled up in a top-knot. Her t-shirt was knotted in the back, hugging her boobs, making the word Mulder all stretched out.
I relaxed a bit. At least she wasn’t wearing her antennas.
“Sorry I’m late, Evie,” Hanna said, rushing past. “Aaron and I got a little carried away in the car and we lost track of time.” She smiled wickedly and her Crawford stud twinkled above her lip.
“Is Scully, I mean Aaron coming?” I asked.
She shoved her purse under the counter. “Not now, but he was.”
“Gross, Hanna!”
“I know, right,” Hanna laughed. “You fall for that all the time.” She tied on her apron. “You’re so funny, Evie.” She shook her head. “And yes, he is coming in, after he parks the car.”
Aaron/Scully didn’t actually work at the coffee house, but he liked to be near Hanna, so he stayed while she worked and helped if it got too busy for her to handle. He was a great guy, really, and totally into Hanna.
“Ahem! Excuse me,” Heather called out obnoxiously.
Shoot! I had completely forgotten about Heather. I turned around, dreading the butt kissing I was going to have to do so Heather didn’t make a scene.
“Oh my gawd, Heather,” Hanna gasped and stepped up to the counter. “You look so good!”
I let out a huge sigh…saved once again—I owed Hanna big time.
SECOND PROLOGUE
BRIARCLIFF – PRESENT DAY
“I wanna be…forever young…I’m going to be…forever young…” she sang the lyrics to Jay-Z’s Young Forever, tapping the steering wheel in time to the song.
“Not too much longer,” she assured herself, glancing at her reflection in the rearview mirror. She had seen better days that was for sure. Her once vibrant red hair had silvered mostly and the telltale wrinkles around her mouth were a dead giveaway that she used to smoke, and still did if the mood struck her. She reached over, grabbed her last can of diet Dr. Pepper, and popped the tab. She took a sip.
Heavy branches of ancient towering trees hung low, blocking out the sky. Her 1971 Grasshopper-Green Gremlin squeaked loudly in protest when she hit another pothole but it didn’t matter, she kept right on going. The scenery blurred through the dust and debris the car kicked up. She turned her head just in time and slammed on her brakes. Her little car skidded to a halt on the faded pavement. Not ten feet in front of her was a worn, weathered sign covered in a deluge of bird droppings and briars, nearly impossible to see if you weren’t looking for it. It read: “We come to Briarcliff,” the letter L getting lost at some point over the years.
“Gotcha!” she hooted merrily and smacked the head of Ponce de Leon, the little bobble-headed figure mounted to the top of her faded dashboard. Her hands shook. After all these years of searching, she couldn’t believe she had finally found it. Making a sharp left, she turned down the narrow strip of road hidden within the folds of a remote part of the New England forest. Her car bounced and groaned on the uneven pothole ridden drive but she didn’t care. She was too close to care now. Hell, once she got what she needed she would buy herself a new car.
The road abruptly ended and she slammed on her brakes. A worn wooden post held a sign, the print barely legible. It didn’t matter. She already knew what it said. Turning off the engine, she stared at the sign. Lifting her can of diet Dr. Pepper in the air, she made a silent toast and then finished it off.
The sound Cicadas and rushing water greeted her when she opened her door. Reaching inside the car, she grabbed her knapsack, filled with her notebooks, maps, and containers for samples, off the floor. The empty soda rolled out of the car across the worn gravel.
Reaching down, she grabbed hold of the can and in that instant a bright light stole her sight and then everything turned black as she crumpled to the hard ground with the can of Dr. Pepper still held firmly in her grasp.
PROLOGUE
BRIARCLIFF - 1830
Darkness had just begun its swift decent when he spotted her, by accident, not knowing what she was until it was too late. She beguiled him with her beauty and mesmerized him with her bewitching eyes. She was by far the fairest maiden he had ever seen. It hurt to look upon her, for she was so very beautiful. So when she beckoned him, he went willingly.
He closed the space between them. Not saying a word, he slipped his hand around her back and pulled her closer. She looked up at him with such innocence, his entire body shook from it. His mouth seized hers in a kiss that shattered his very soul. Her deep red lips succulent, beyond anything he had ever known. He delved deeper, savoring every moment, his heart pounding erratically.
The sweetness of their shared kisses turned into something more. Frenetic urgency began to fill him. He was a young man; his experience with women was very limited. He was clumsy, anxious…he hardened quickly, wanting more, not able to slow his raging need. She lay upon the ground, his long cloak beneath, giving them some defense against the cold floor of the forest. He pulled her gown up, exposing her flawless body. She wore nothing underneath. His breath caught at the sight of her. He ran his hands over her breasts, gently, not
wanting to mar their simple perfection. She pulled him down and kissed him fervently…taking everything he had to offer and more than he was capable of giving. He wanted to thrust deep inside of her, to feel her close around him. He was losing his mind, but she kept whispering to wait. He did not understand…he did not think he could…
The sweet kisses turned into something cold…calculating. She screamed and pushed against him.
Fear seized him…he did not want to harm her. He only wanted to be close to her as any man would want to be with a woman…except he was not yet a man.
Torches broke through the tree line, bathing them both in the flickering light. Angry screams filled the air around him. He looked at her beseechingly, not knowing what he had done wrong. Pulled from her forcefully, he tried to fight, trying to reach her. She was screaming louder now, at the men who held him…not to release him, but to punish him for what he had done. His heart shattered and blackness seeped into his soul.
The townspeople…his friends, family, people he had known his whole life, gathered around as she cursed him and spat upon him. Vile words were tossed upon his head from the people he knew…loved…their jeers to kill him filled the air. He was being damned for a crime he did not commit.
The light receded and darkness filled the area, swallowing all around in its icy grasp. He looked up to the sky, not knowing why something so wonderful could turn so twisted and bleak within a hairsbreadth of a moment. No longer struggling, he once more cast his gaze in her direction. Now he saw her with another pair of eyes, ones no longer clouded by a young man’s desire, lust, and infatuation. She was not the fair, pure maiden he had thought her to be but instead a tainted she-devil, luring him to his own demise.
Once more, he struggled to break free, but it was no use. They tied him to the pyre. A torch lowered and set the mound ablaze. He closed his eyes and prepared to feel the burn engulfing him…his short life flashing by. But instead of feeling the burning heat of the fire, he felt a wave of cold move through him from the outside in, turning his human remains not to ash…but to stone.
Elyograg (Briarcliff Series, Book 1) Page 12
