Mrs. Jimenez looked up. “You’re smart,” she said. “You did the right thing.”
Maxwell dropped to his haunches next to Emily, peering at her from under the rolled edge of his cap. Lowering his voice, he said, “I thought she was you.”
Taylor reached out and took Emily’s hand, clutching it tightly. “I wanted to go in to dinner with you,” she said, “but I couldn’t find you anywhere. Then I remembered the quiet place you went when I followed you yesterday. Down at the lake. That little dock. I thought you might have gone there again.”
Through the tangle of vines and trees, Emily thought. “At the little dock,” she repeated.
Taylor was silent, so Emily asked, “Then what happened?”
“Nothing,” Taylor answered.
“Something must have happened to you. Did you trip? Did you lose your balance? How did you get hurt?”
“I don’t know,” Taylor said. “You weren’t there. No one was there. The sun was going down, so I walked out on the dock to watch. There was just a thin line of yellow and green and blue in the sky along the water toward the west. Even the rowboat that was tied to the dock looked kind of silvery in the light. A bird suddenly swooped down toward the water, I stepped back, and the dock shook a little bit. That’s all I remember.”
Mrs. Jimenez bent to look down into Taylor’s face. “You were on that little dock where it says ‘keep out’?”
“Yes.”
“Don’t you believe in signs?”
“How did you know about the dock?” Emily asked.
“I manage to get around,” Mrs. Jimenez said. “You think the staff doesn’t know what’s going on? We all do.”
“Then tell me, please,” Emily said. “What happened to Taylor?”
Mrs. Jimenez said, “Only one thing could have happened. Taylor slipped and fell and hit her head. Luckily somebody came along to pull her out of the water.”
“Maxwell?” Emily turned toward him. “Was it you? Were you with Taylor? You said you thought Taylor was me.”
“I saw you—uh, her—disappear down the trail, and I followed,” Maxwell said. “I wanted to talk to you.”
“Then you saw Taylor fall?”
Maxwell shook his head. “I wasn’t that close to her, and it was getting dark. I heard a kind of thunk and a splash, but when I got close to the dock no one was in sight. I thought I heard someone in a rowboat—the splash of oars, I mean—so I went to the end of the dock and there I could barely see your—no, I mean Taylor’s—white hair all spread out and wavy under the surface of the water like seaweed. So I reached down and tugged her out. She coughed up some water and was breathing all right, but her head was bleeding, so I carried her up here, dumped her on the grass, and pulled the fire alarm to get help.”
The sirens on the vehicles whined to a stop as they reached Camp Excel, and soon three men in volunteers’ uniforms came running. “Back, step back,” one of them shouted, and Emily pulled her hand from Taylor’s and scrambled out of the way.
A few seconds later one of the volunteers on his knees beside Taylor said, “A doc should probably see to that cut on her head. Lampley doesn’t have an emergency hospital, so we’ll take her into Marble Falls.”
“I’ll go with her,” Mrs. Jimenez told him.
“I’ll go, too,” Emily said.
“No.” Dr. Isaacson stepped forward and clamped a firm hand on Emily’s shoulder. “Thank you for your generous offer, Emily,” he said, “but it would be more appropriate for you to remain at camp. Mrs. Jimenez’s presence should be sufficient.”
Emily kept her eyes on Taylor’s bedraggled, bloody hair. “I just thought Taylor would feel better if someone she knew—”
“Mrs. Jimenez will be with her.” Abruptly he turned to Coach Jinks and said, “You won’t be needed for the session on study skills, so will you please drive one of the Camp Excel vans to the hospital and bring Mrs. Jimenez and Taylor back to camp as soon as Taylor is released?”
As the ambulance and fire truck drove off, the crowd of teachers and kids melted away in small groups. Emily realized that Maxwell and Haley were the only ones who had stayed. “Taylor would have died if you hadn’t been there,” she said to Maxwell.
Maxwell’s sudden look of pleasure turned to embarrassment. “I just did what needed to be done,” he said.
Haley nodded agreement. “Sometimes decisions are made for us by forces beyond our control,” she said. “You were destined to save Taylor whether you were trying to be a hero or not.”
Maxwell groaned. “I wasn’t trying to be a hero.”
Haley sighed. “Don’t fight the forces of fate.” She said to Emily, “I’m going to study hall. Are you coming?”
“Later,” Emily told her. “First I want to talk to Maxwell.”
Haley persisted. “You aren’t planning to wander off by yourself and make me worry about you, are you?”
“You don’t need to worry about me,” Emily answered. “I’ll be with Maxwell.”
“Have you got—?”
“It’s right here.” Emily’s fingertips touched the vial in the pocket of her shirt.
As Haley left, walking in the direction of the main building, Maxwell asked Emily, “What do you want to talk about?”
Emily looked at Maxwell intently. Under the yellow globes that lit the path his cheeks and nose were highlighted, but his eyes were nearly hidden by his knit cap.
“Take off your cap,” Emily told him.
“What?” Maxwell’s hands flew protectively to his head.
“Please take off your cap,” Emily said. “It hides so much of your face, and I want to know what you really look like.”
His gaze never leaving hers, Maxwell slowly removed his cap. His dark hair was plastered to his forehead. His eyes were wide. Without the cap he seemed vulnerable, like a small child.
“Thank you,” Emily said. “Now we can talk.”
“Not yet,” Maxwell told her. From his wrist he pulled one of probably a half-dozen rubber bands and handed it to her.
He didn’t need to explain. Emily pulled back her hair, wrapping the rubber band around it to hold it at the nape of her neck. Shyly, feeling as exposed as though she were under a spotlight, she took a deep breath and looked up at Maxwell.
“Now we can talk,” he said. But looking puzzled, he asked, “What are we going to talk about?”
“First of all,” Emily said, “don’t be embarrassed by what Haley said. She was right. You really were a hero.”
Maxwell’s smile grew into a grin. “Maybe I was,” he said. He grinned happily. “I may use this whole experience in a play someday. Horton Foote wrote a whole series of plays about his lifetime experiences. I can be just as successful as he was.”
“I need you to tell me exactly what happened,” Emily said.
“In my play I could bring out the fact that no one in my main character’s family could believe he’d ever do anything heroic. His older brother, sure. They’d expect it of him.” He looked intently at Emily. “It’s okay, you know, to expose your secret family horrors for the stage.”
“Maxwell,” Emily persisted. “I can’t wait until you finally write a play about it to find out what happened to Taylor. Tell me now.”
He looked puzzled. “But I did.”
Emily tried a different approach. “You gave us the facts but nothing behind them. Tell me everything you saw and heard after you heard the splash and knew that Taylor had fallen into the lake.”
“I didn’t know it was Taylor. I thought I was following you.”
“Okay, me. Go on.”
Maxwell’s forehead wrinkled as the words tumbled out. “I was scared when I saw Taylor in the water. And Taylor was a dead weight. Maybe it was because I was so scared that I had the strength to pull her out. Adrenaline, you know. I kept hoping that whoever was in the rowboat would come and help, but he was leaving, not coming. Anyhow, when I got Taylor back onto the dock—”
Emily interrupted. “Wait
a minute. You said earlier that you heard someone in a rowboat. Now you just said that someone was rowing away. Did you see this person?”
“No. It was too dark and the tree branches that grew out over the water were in the way.”
“Taylor told us she saw the rowboat still tied to the dock. She said it looked silvery. Was that rowboat still there at the dock when you got there? Did you hear another rowboat?”
Maxwell scrunched up his face as he thought. “No,” he finally said. “I remember clearly. There was no rowboat tied to the dock.”
Emily shivered, and her legs wobbled as though they could no longer hold her up. She sat down on the grass, bent over, and pressed her hands to her forehead.
“What’s the matter?” Maxwell asked. He perched cross-legged beside her.
Emily sat upright and looked at him intently. “We need to talk about what happened on the dock.”
“I told you. Taylor fell into the water, and I—”
“Before that. When you followed her. You said you heard a thunk and a splash.”
“That’s right.”
“When you got to the dock, no one was in sight.”
“I said that already.”
“I know,” Emily told him. “I’m trying to put it all together. Taylor saw a rowboat. You didn’t. You heard a rowboat leaving. Get it?”
Maxwell gave a start of surprise. “You mean someone else was there?”
“Someone had to be there.”
“But Taylor didn’t see anyone.”
Emily shuddered, frightened because she was sure of what must have happened. “Someone was already at the dock when Taylor got there. Or else someone saw Taylor enter the path to the dock and followed her, just as you did. Taylor said the dock shook a little bit. Remember? Probably because someone had stepped onto the dock after her.”
Maxwell’s eyes opened even wider. “Are you saying that Taylor was hit on the head and knocked into the water?”
“Yes,” Emily answered. “I think that’s what happened. And then the person who did it heard you coming and couldn’t leave by the path or you would have seen him. So he climbed into the rowboat and managed to row out of sight.”
“That could have happened,” Maxwell said quietly.
“The cut on Taylor’s head was at the back. If she’d fallen on the rocks, wouldn’t it be more likely that the cut would have been on her forehead?”
“I think so.”
For a moment both Emily and Maxwell were silent as they thought about Taylor and what might have happened. Then Maxwell asked, “What I don’t understand is, why would anyone want to harm Taylor?”
“I don’t think anyone did.”
“Then why—?” Maxwell stared hard at Emily. “Wait a minute. I see what you mean. Taylor looked like you. From a distance I couldn’t see her face, so I thought she was you. If someone came up behind her and thought she was you … but why would someone want to harm you?”
“I don’t know,” Emily said. In a rush she told him about Haley’s runes and the Loki stone and the curandero. “I know it’s hokey, and although Haley believes all that stuff, I don’t,” Emily said. “But even the curandero spoke of danger.” She touched the vial in her pocket, her fingers trembling. “Now, after what just happened with Taylor, I think I really may be in danger.”
“Maybe you should call the police.”
“And tell them what?”
“Why you think someone wanted to harm you.”
“They’ll ask what proof I have, and there isn’t any. If they ask if I suspect someone, I’d have to tell them I don’t know. They’ll go away thinking I’m some kind of nutcase.”
Maxwell didn’t answer for a moment. Finally he said, “Have you told me everything about what’s behind this? I get the feeling you haven’t.”
Emily whipped the rubber band from her curls, heedless of the sharp pricks when stray hairs snagged and were pulled. She blindly shoved the rubber band back at Maxwell, ducking her head to allow the curtain of hair to fall between them.
Hugging her seclusion around her like a comforting blanket, she answered, “I’ve told you enough. That’s all I can say for now.”
“All you are able to say, or all you want to say? There’s a difference.”
As Emily hesitated, Maxwell climbed awkwardly to his feet and stretched a hand toward her. “You can trust me, Emily,” he said.
Emily grasped his hand and stood. Maxwell’s hand was warm and firm, and for a moment his touch gave her a burst of the courage she needed. But once on her feet she quickly pulled her hand away. She couldn’t trust Maxwell. She couldn’t trust anyone. Not when she couldn’t even trust her own childhood memories, which had been deeply buried, hiding the truth.
CHAPTER 14
I nod intelligently as our various staff members discuss study helps for our students. I even make my own contributions. I could have done that in my sleep, but I’m shaken to the core. Since the—the incident—I haven’t been able to properly focus on anything else.
I hadn’t meant to kill Amelia Foxworth. I was angry and frightened, and I reacted without thinking. Amelia had found out. She told me she’d publicize the résumé I had—shall we say—embellished. She was going to destroy the exemplary reputation I was building for myself and ruin my career.
I suppose subconsciously I realized that I had no choice but to stop her. It was quick. Immediate. I had not planned it. Her death was not premeditated. Desperate, frightened by Amelia’s threat, I simply acted. Pushed her. Watched her fall over the railing along the marble stairs to crack her head open on the tile by the pool.
Emily saw her fall. Out of shock she’s repressed her childhood memories, but someday they’ll be bound to return. I can’t take the chance.
When I discovered the little girl’s presence, I tried to stop her, to call her back. What I would have done, if she had obeyed me, I sincerely do not know. During the months I unsuccessfully tried to discover her identity and find her, I acted blindly. I made no real plans.
This time the situation was entirely different. I did make plans—at least of a sort. I intended to seclude myself near the small dock. If Emily Wood arrived while I was there I would consider it an omen and know I must act.
So I did.
How could I know it would not be Emily who came, but another student who resembled Emily? Also, how would it have been possible to anticipate that someone else would arrive soon behind her? Just like the first time, I was so fearful, I was afraid my heart would stop beating. It was amazing that I escaped without being discovered.
It was also fortunate that the girl I had struck with a rock did not die.
But Emily Wood must die. She is a real threat to my future career and well-being. I am forced to take some type of action against her. Something that will not incriminate me.
What will it be?
CHAPTER 15
Emily slipped into a seat in the back row of the meeting hall, Maxwell beside her. Dr. Anderson, standing at a podium at the front of the room, was talking about taking responsibility. The last thing in the world Emily wanted to hear about was taking responsibility, so she scrunched down and ducked her head, letting her hair fall. There was so much to think about, to wonder about. What if someone …, she thought, but could go no further.
She suddenly realized that chairs were being scraped across the floor and people around her were rising.
“Emily Wood,” a girl said, and stretched to reach Emily, handing her a folded sheet of paper.
Wordlessly, Emily took the paper, staring after the girl, who had disappeared back into the crowd.
“Aren’t you going to read it?” Maxwell asked, curiosity tingeing his words.
Emily slowly opened the sheet and scanned it. “It’s a note from Dr. Isaacson,” she said. “He wants me to meet him in his office after this session is over.”
“It’s over now.”
Emily gulped down the lump that rose in her throat as she pictured Dr. Isa
acson’s office, in which hung the portrait of Dr. Amelia Foxworth.
Maxwell stood and grasped Emily’s hand, pulling her to her feet. Then he turned her hand palm up and stared at it. “Your hand’s all sticky and sweaty,” he said. “What’s the matter?”
“I—uh—don’t want to talk to Dr. Isaacson,” Emily answered. She couldn’t give Maxwell the real reason.
“Why not? It’s not like going to the principal for something you’ve done wrong. This whole camp thing is supposed to be about self-esteem, so he’s not going to make you feel bad about yourself. He’s probably holding individual meetings with each of the people here.”
Maxwell let go of Emily’s hand and wiped his own hands on his jeans. “Talk about whatever he wants to talk about. Just don’t shake hands with him,” he added.
Emily couldn’t tell Maxwell about her dread of seeing that portrait again and of trying to explain her reaction to Dr. Isaacson. Instead she said, “He may want to talk about why I fainted.”
“You fainted?”
“In his office.”
Maxwell groaned. “One more thing I didn’t know about. Tell me. Why did you faint in his office?”
Emily looked away. “Mrs. Jimenez said it was because I was hungry. I was in her clinic. That’s why I didn’t come in to dinner.”
Maxwell’s gaze was so intense that Emily couldn’t keep from meeting it. “Why do I get the idea that there’s even more to that story than you’ve told me?” he asked.
Emily put a hand on his arm. “Don’t ask me now, Maxwell. Please. I can’t talk about it.”
Maxwell nodded, suddenly solemn. “Okay.” He glanced around the nearly empty room. “If it will make you feel better, I’ll walk to his office with you.”
“Thanks,” Emily said. She tried to convince herself that she had nothing to be afraid of. She had her excuse. Mrs. Jimenez had given it to her.
“I was hungry,” she told Dr. Isaacson a few minutes later as she perched stiffly on the edge of the loveseat in his office. As soon as he had indicated where they would talk, she had chosen the spot, making sure that the portrait was behind her. Although it was creepy to have Dr. Foxworth’s portrait looking down at her, at least Emily wouldn’t have to see it.
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