Dear Tragedy: A Dark Supernatural Thriller (House of Sand Book 2)

by Michael J Sanford

  Aza felt a hand on her back and she stopped crying at the gesture. Using a similar tactic as with the waitress—that had ultimately failed because the woman was an unfeeling bitch—Aza sent a singular command along the wave of emotion traveling up the mother’s arm. Protect me.

  The mother’s face appeared next to Aza’s, nearly touching the concrete. “There, there. It’s all right. Hush now. Can you tell me what happened? Where you’re from? Anything?”

  Aza slowly sat up, sniffed loudly, and wiped at her face. A half a dozen sets of eyes were locked on her. Aza didn’t bother trying to influence any of the girls, or even read them. They weren’t the weak link. Children never were.

  “I—I—” Aza said.

  The mother inched closer and wrapped an arm around Aza. “It’s okay. Take your time. You’re safe now. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

  Aza shook her head and fought to stand. She allowed the mother to help her up and leaned against the woman when she’d found her feet beneath her. “M-My grand—father—”

  “Yes, dear? Your grandfather?” the mother asked, keeping her face close to Aza’s as if they were the only ones in the world. It was oddly comforting, but Aza couldn’t allow herself to become distracted by the tainted gesture.

  Aza nodded. “He-He’s in the hospital.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” the mother said. “Can I call your parents for you? Do you have a phone? Do you know their number?”

  Aza contorted her face as if she were battling another outburst. “It’s only my grandpa and me. I don’t have anyone else.”

  The mother gasped and clamped a hand over her mouth. Tears lined her eyes now, threatening to break free.

  One of the girls stepped closer. “You can come home with us,” she said. “And maybe we can take you to see your grandpa.”

  Aza looked at the girl, but could feel nothing.

  “Would that be okay, Mrs. Barker?” the girl asked, turning to the mother.

  Mrs. Barker turned to address the girls at her back. “What do you think, gang?”

  All but one of the girls nodded. Some were crying. The one that hadn’t nodded just stared daggers at Aza. Aza returned the look, letting loose a small burst of rage.

  The girl twitched. “Goddammit!” she shouted.

  “April!” the mother shouted.

  April scowled. “But, Mom, this is my party. She’s going to ruin it.”

  Aza dropped her head and began to walk away. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.

  Mrs. Barker and the gaggle of girls practically jumped on Aza to prevent her from going anywhere. “It’s okay, dear,” Mrs. Barker said. “It’s no bother. You’ll come home with us and I can help you get to see your grandfather. We’ll figure this whole thing out.”

  “Just call the cops and let them deal with her,” April said, still clinging to the bit of anger Aza had sent her way. Aza could feel the girl hunger for more.

  “Would you want to be given to the cops if you were her?” the girl who had initially defended Aza asked.

  Aza smiled at her. Mrs. Barker did the same, putting a hand to the girl’s shoulder. “No one is going to let her go to the cops. If it were you, April, I’d hope some nice people would help you. Right, girls?”

  “Right,” all but April answered.

  “All right, then,” Mrs. Barker said. “It’s settled. To the minivan!”

  Mrs. Barker grabbed April by the arm and led the way down the sidewalk. The other girls fell in around Aza as they walked.

  Aza wiped away the last of her charade and looked at the girl on her right. “Thanks for sticking up for me.”

  The girl shrugged. “No biggie. April can be a bit of a you-know-what. She shouldn’t have said those things.”

  Aza nodded like she understood. “And thanks for not calling the cops. They scare me.”

  The girl laughed. “They’re not so bad, either. My dad and brother are detectives. But I didn’t want you to have to sleep in a prison cell or anything. My name’s Danielle, by the way, but you can call me Dani. Everyone else does.” Dani held out her hand.

  Aza grinned and took Dani’s hand. She squeezed it tightly. “You can call me Tragedy.”

  “Really?”

  Aza nodded.

  “Cool.”

  Chapter Eight

  Friday 8:56 p.m.

  “I don’t know that I’ve ever had such a good time,” Jaina said as soon as Jake shut the door behind Peter. “Why didn’t you tell me your son was such a riot?”

  “I’m glad you two enjoyed yourselves so much at my expense,” Jake said, walking back into the kitchen to help clean up. Peter and Jaina had spent the entire dinner lambasting Jake. Past, present, and future. It would have bothered him more if it hadn’t kept the pair from discussing more troubling matters. No one had brought up that morning’s murder or how Jaina knew Jake. For that, Jake would endure any amount of harassment.

  “I mean, my god, I learned more about you in the last two hours than the four years we’ve known each other.” Jaina was smiling, just as she had been all evening. She was beautiful in any light, but more so when she was excited about something. It wasn’t a look Jake got to see very often. “And you know what?”

  “Hmm?”

  Jaina turned to face Jake, standing tall. “I’m glad Aza is gone.”

  Jake’s stomach dropped.

  “I mean,” Jaina continued. “Like I feel free or something. I know that sounds weird. I didn’t really mind all that sneaking around or anything, and the perks,” Jaina raised an eyebrow, “were nice, but I’m glad that bit is over. Maybe we can just be us now. It is over, right?”

  Jake sighed. “Look, I know I put you in a rough spot all these years, but it was important. And now, even more so. I still need your help.”

  “No,” Jaina said flatly. She walked over to Jake and slung her arms around his neck. He almost flinched. “You don’t need my help. You want it. Just like you want to find Aza so you can continue obsessing over her for god-only-knows what reason. Can’t you just put it behind you?”

  “It’s not that simple.”

  Jaina released Jake and pushed him in the chest. “It should be. I get that you feel like you have to protect her or whatever, but you don’t. If anything, it’s the rest of us that need protecting from her.”

  “You’re right.”

  Jaina smiled and leaned away from him. “So, no more Aza business?”

  “That’s not what I meant,” Jake said, turning and walking toward his office.

  Jaina caught up to him in the hallway and grabbed his shoulder, spinning him back around. “What did you mean, then? You’re being really weird. A little too much wine?”

  Jake stared intently at her. “You said you wanted the truth. No more secrets, right? That’s what you said.”

  “Well, yeah,” Jaina said.

  “Okay, then. That’s what you’re going to get.” Jake walked into his office and made a beeline for the bottom drawer of his desk. “But only because I think you can help me find her and figure out what she really is.”

  Jaina stalked toward Jake and leaned against his desk, her arms folded.

  Jake withdrew the torn pages of Daphne Miller’s diary and handed them to Jaina.

  “This is your secret?”

  “No. It’s what made me believe you. Or, at least, admit it out loud. Just read it.”

  Jaina pursed her lips, but began reading. Jake stole over to his bookshelf and pushed it to the side, using his full bodyweight to do so. Set into the wall was a safe. Jake knelt before it, punched in the code and opened the door. Inside was a messy stack of papers, his backup revolver, and four boxes of ammunition. Jake pulled out the papers and slammed the safe shut again.

  “What is this?” Jaina asked, holding up the diary pages. “Part of the case you’re working with Peter?”

  Jake nodded and circled back around his desk. He was too antsy to sit. “Recognize the handwriting?”

  Jaina examined the
script. “Should I? Jake, what happened to the truth and all that? You’re being more cryptic than ever.”

  “It’s Aza’s,” he said.

  Jaina looked up at him, startled, then looked at the writing again. “I mean, I guess it does look a little like hers. She didn’t write a whole lot, though, so I wouldn’t be sure without looking at a sample back at the hospital. What makes you think it’s Aza’s? The handwriting is one thing, but the content… Yeah, I always said Aza was dangerous, but not murder-another-kid-dangerous.”

  “It’s her.”

  Jaina set the papers down and looked at him, nowhere near as jubilant as she had been for most of the night. Jake always had a way of sucking the joy right out of her.

  “She’s a weird girl with some strange…whatever,” Jaina said. “You don’t need to be going all the way to the other side. First, thinking I’m crazy for saying she’s dangerous, and now saying she murdered some kid and left behind a letter about it. It’s not like she signed it. And who the hell is Tragedy supposed to be?”

  “There’s more.”

  Jake slammed the stack of papers from his safe down in front of Jaina. She jumped off the desk. “Jesus,” she said. “And what is this? More scribblings from your crime scene?”

  Jake gestured for her to look. Jaina leaned over the desk and flipped through a few pages.

  “You know what landed Aza in SCPC?”

  “I’m the one who actually works there,” Jaina said. “Of course I know.”

  “You know the official story. The one that says her father killed himself and Aza’s mother in front of her. And the story that says she killed her therapist in self-defense after he came onto her.”

  “Are you saying that’s not what happened?” Jaina asked. She flipped another page. “Looks like the same handwriting. Where’d you get all this, anyway?”

  “These,” he said, tapping a finger on the diary pages, “I found in the murdered girl’s diary. Last entry. Definitely not her handwriting. What you’re reading now, I found hidden in Dr. Green’s office during my investigation into his death.”

  Jaina stopped flipping pages. “Aza’s therapist?”

  “Yeah.”

  “And you…kept them? Isn’t that like evidence tampering or something?”

  “You’re missing the point,” Jake said, slamming the desk with a fist. Jaina flinched, but didn’t retreat. “Those are Aza’s journal entries, written during her sessions with Dr. Green.”

  “This is written from her father’s point of view, it sounds like.”

  “It’s how Aza experienced the whole thing. Months she lived like that, thinking she was him, or seeing through his eyes, or whatever. Read the last entry.”

  Jaina dug through the pages until she reached the last one. She dropped the pages and stepped back. “Is that blood?”

  The pages of Aza’s final entry for Dr. Green were splattered in his blood. The spots had long since dried, curling up the pages and obscuring some of the words, but it was all still legible. Jake had it memorized regardless.

  “Just read.”

  Jaina tentatively obeyed.

  Jake’s phone rang, making him jump. He’d been quietly reciting the words he knew Jaina was reading. He drew his phone out and came back to reality with a smile as he accepted the call.

  “Dani! Hey, honey,” he answered with an enthusiasm only his daughter could rip from him.

  “Hey, Dad,” Dani said.

  “Are you all right?” Jake asked. It was the obvious question, since Dani rarely called unless she wanted or needed something. Jake didn’t blame Dani for that fact. Amelia didn’t like Dani calling him and would regularly check the call records of her cellphone.

  “Yeah, I’m fine. Really good, actually. It’s just that…”

  “I know why you didn’t want to come see me this weekend,” Jake said. “Peter told me.”

  “He did?! Oh…”

  “It’s okay. I get it. I’d have done the same if I were you.”

  “I’m sorry. I feel kinda bad about it.”

  Jake laughed, both to reassure Dani and himself. “Really, it’s fine. So, how’s it going, anyway? Peter said something about a slumber party.”

  “It’s great. I was nervous at first, but I think I made a new friend.”

  “That’s great, Dani,” Jake said, beaming now. “So this popular girl—what’s her name—Abby or something—”

  “April.”

  “Right. So you two ended up hitting it off after all? I know you were worried she wouldn’t like—”

  “Ugh, I’m going to kill Peter. And no, not April. She’s still a total bitch. Like, the worst. April Barker, the barking bitch.”

  Jake stifled a laugh, knowing he shouldn’t encourage such a statement. “Oh, I’m sorry. But at least you found someone to hang out with, yeah?”

  “Yeah!” Dani exclaimed. “She’s wicked cool.”

  Jake rarely heard Dani so excited about anything. Her mother insisted it was Jake’s presence that sucked the joy out of their child. He couldn’t argue. “Yeah? That’s great. So, what’s your new friend’s name?”

  “Her name is Tragedy. Isn’t that totally wild?”

  Jake jerked and dropped the phone.

  Jaina looked up, her eyes telling Jake that she’d finished reading the last entry of Aza’s therapy journal. He’d momentarily forgotten what he and Jaina had been doing before Dani called.

  “Jake?” Jaina asked.

  Jake flinched and quickly picked up his phone. Hands trembling, he set it in the middle of the desk and put it on speakerphone.

  “Dad? Hello? Did you hear me?” Dani asked. “Why didn’t you name me something cool like that? I’m, like, so jealous.”

  “Dani,” Jake said as calmly as he could.

  “What?”

  Jaina gave Jake a concerned look, but still said nothing.

  “What did you say your new friend’s name is?” Jake asked.

  “Ugh, Dad. I knew you weren’t listening. It’s Tragedy. Isn’t that an awesome name?”

  Jaina covered her mouth and stepped away from the desk like it was burning.

  It wasn’t possible, Jake told himself. Maybe his obsession had addled his brain, just like Jaina always said it would.

  “Dad? Did you hear me that time?”

  “Y-Yeah, honey, I heard you,” Jake said. “Hey, maybe I could talk to your new friend. You know, like say hello or whatever.”

  Jaina groaned and sat on the nearest chair. Her eyes were locked on Jake as he stared back at her, hoping it was enough to ground him in the moment. The impossible is only impossible until it’s not.

  “You want to talk to Tragedy? Uh, that’s totally weird. No way.”

  “Right, yeah, of course,” Jake said. “I was just kidding around. But, listen, seriously, could I talk to, uh, Athena’s mom?”

  “You mean April. The bitch.”

  “Yeah, her. Could I talk to her mom?”

  “That’s weird, too. Besides, if you talk to April’s mom, then April’s mom will tell Mom that I was talking to you and then she’ll want to know why, but it won’t matter what reason I give her, she’ll—”

  “Okay, okay,” Jake said. “I get it. Can you… This is going to sound weird again, but what does Tragedy look like? How did you meet her? What has she been saying?”

  “Ugh. You’re a creep, Dad. I only called to say sorry for ditching you this weekend, but forget it. I got to go.”

  The call ended.

  Jake scooped up the phone and redialed. It went straight to voicemail. He tried again. And again. Finally, Jaina came over and put her hands on his, stopping his manic loop.

  “This is crazy,” Jaina said. “All of it. What the hell is going on?”

  Jake scooped up all the papers on his desk and headed for the door.

  Chapter Nine

  Friday 9:45 p.m.

  “You’re right,” Aza whispered. “April is a bitch.”

  Dani grinned, her
smile lit only by the light of the nearly full moon transecting the bedroom window. “She is the queen of bitches.”

  Aza giggled and rolled onto her back. There hadn’t been enough air mattresses for either Dani or Aza to use. They hadn’t minded, though, volunteering to crash for the night in the Barkers’ spare room. Aza could hear the bitch now, laughing away in the next room with the rest of the slumber party.

  “I’m sorry about your grandpa, but I’m glad I met you,” Dani said from the pile of blankets next to Aza.

  “I don’t see why you’re friends with the bitch,” Aza said. “Why even bother?”

  “Oh, we’re not friends. I’m pretty sure I only got invited tonight because my mom convinced April’s mom to invite me. A pity invitation. I thought maybe it’d work out or whatever, but April and her friends are just…”

  “Bitches,” Aza said.

  Dani laughed.

  There was a pounding on the wall, followed by someone shouting, “Shut up!” It had to be April.

  Dani held up a pair of middle fingers to the empty room.

  Aza got up and went to the wall and pressed her ear to it.

  “What are you doing?” Dani asked, sitting up.

  Aza held a finger to her lips and pressed harder against the wall. It wasn’t as thin as those of the Regency Motel, but Aza could still make out the conversation on the other side. The girls openly wondered if Aza and Dani were kissing—or as April the bitch put it, “doing weird lesbian things.” But Aza and Dani soon fell from the conversation as it tumbled into a discussion on what boys in their class were cute and which teachers they all hated. So juvenile. “You can run for a lifetime, but I will be waiting at the end. Run faster if you must, but it will only shorten your time,” Aza whispered to the wall and those beyond. “For I cannot be shirked, denied, or forgotten. I am everlasting, hungry, and proud. And I am coming.”

  A touch at Aza’s elbow made her jump.

  “What are they saying?” Dani asked, placing the side of her face against the same spot Aza had.

  “April is trying to get the others to play some sort of prank on us.”