“Sorry! I was skimming stones on the river.”
Eve spread the blanket she’d had tucked under her arm on the ground. They’d met on the other side of the pond, far away from the Foil. Since she’d stumbled upon the man’s bones two years before, she refused to go anywhere near that field of quicksilver. She’d begged and pleaded with Sara and, eventually, gotten her to promise that she’d stay away as well.
“Why were you skimming stones? We were supposed to meet an hour ago! I’ve been waiting and waiting, and I had to go hide in the forest for a while because Steve Ryder and Slothboy were riding their bikes along the trail.”
Eve rolled her eyes as she settled on the blanket. “That was forever ago. I promise you don’t need to worry about them anymore.”
“How can you say that? They look like they’re just waiting for the right moment, and then,” Sara drew a finger across her throat, “dead.”
“But have they ever even tried to hurt you?”
Sara straightened the corner of the blanket and sat down. “Well, no. But I’m not giving them any chances.”
Eve pulled Sara’s gift out of her pocket and held it out to her. The little box was wrapped in pink tissue with tiny silver bells. “Happy birthday.”
Sara eyed the gift, but didn’t reach for it. “I’m not done being mad at you.”
“I know.”
“Fine.” Sara plucked the gift from her hand. With excruciating care, she pried off the strips of tape, laying them side by side on the edge of the blanket.
“Oh, come on.” Eve would have ripped off the paper in half a second.
“Don’t rush me.”
Sara removed the paper, folded it into a neat square, and set it aside. She turned to the little white box and examined it from all angles, like there might be a secret message written somewhere.
“Hey, Gumdrop, are you trying to be irritating?”
Lip curling up in acknowledgement, Sara finally opened the box. “Oh, wow.” She lifted the necklace, letting it dangle from her fingers. The letter S was crusted with tiny diamonds — not much more than diamond dust. “This must have cost you a lot of money.”
She shrugged, smiling. “Do you like it?”
“It’s beautiful, thank you.” Sara sniffed, and tears fell from her eyes.
With a mixture of pleasure and discomfort, Eve said, “Hey. Come on now. Let me put it on you.”
Sara handed her the necklace and lifted her hair out of the way so Eve could wrap it around her neck. The clasp took several tries. Once the necklace was secured, she took Sara’s hand and traced a finger across Sara’s wrist.
“Our hearts are joined together,” she said, and waited for Sara to finish.
After a moment of hesitation, Sara completed the ritual. “Always and forever.”
“It looks good on you.” The S curled at the base of Sara’s throat, diamond dust glittering in the sun.
“I love it,” Sara said, cupping her hand over it. “Thank you.”
“Hey. Did you bring the cards?”
Sara had used the early birthday money her grandma sent to buy a set of tarot cards at Secondhand Jane’s, and Eve was eager to try them out.
“Yeah, and the guidebook.” Sara pulled them out of her bag. As she handed Eve the book, she said, “I’m still kind of mad at you.”
“I’m sorry. I just lost track of time.”
“That’s not like you. Or, well, it wasn’t like you.”
“What do you mean?”
“You’ve been getting really flaky. It’s not the first time you’ve been late to meet me. Or not shown up at all.”
“I’m really sorry.” Eve felt horrible for keeping such a huge secret from her friend, but she knew Sara wouldn’t understand. Even worse, Leigh had said she might tell the cops or something, and then they’d both be in really big trouble.
“Yeah, well,” Sara said. “Sometimes it feels like you don’t want to be friends with me anymore.”
“What? Why would you think that?”
“You’ve changed a lot this year. You’re getting boobs and walking around dressed like that.” Sara nodded at Eve’s cropped shorts and tight shirt. “Boys even follow you around, and I’m still just a … a boring kid . A big fat gumdrop.”
“That’s not true. You’re the most amazing person ever.”
“I’m so fat I’m invisible.”
“You’re not fat! And, you know, I can’t help it if my body is changing faster than yours. I’m not doing anything to those boys, I’m not flirting with them or anything.”
“Maybe not, but they can see the changes in you. Everyone can.”
Eve flushed with fear. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Sara pulled the cards out of the box. “Whatever. Let’s just do this.”
“Sara …” She longed to tell Sara everything. It would be a relief in so many ways, no matter the fallout.
“Yeah?” Sara looked up from the cards, her eyes the same exact blue as her brother’s. In that moment, she understood that she had to make a choice. It was either Sara or Leigh; she couldn’t trust them both.
“Nothing,” she said. “Do you want me to read you first?”
“I guess.”
She opened the guidebook. “So, you have to shuffle the cards, and then cut the deck while you’re thinking about a question you want to ask.”
Sara did, and silently handed over the cards.
“Let’s try a three-card spread. I think it’ll be easiest,” she said, reading from the book. “Pick three cards from the deck and lay them down on the blanket in whatever order seems right to you.”
Sara did, and Eve turned them over to look.
“From left to right they’re supposed to represent your past, present, and future. For your past you pulled a Four of Wands.”
Eve flipped through the guidebook. “It represents teamwork and coming together with others to do positive things. It says it’s a card about building foundations.”
“I guess that makes sense,” Sara said.
She looked at the middle card, and turned some pages. “Hmm. You pulled an Ace of Cups for your present. It’s the element of water, and is related to fantasy and imagination. Ace is also the first card in the suit, so it represents beginnings. It also means you’re thinking with your heart rather than your head.”
Sara gave a short barking laugh.
“What?”
“Nothing. What’s my future?”
“The Queen of Swords.” Eve flipped through the book. “It represents the element of air, which deals with action, courage, and conflict. It can be constructive or destructive, and can even lead to violence.”
“I don’t like the sound of that,” Sara said.
“It says it’s considered the most powerful and dangerous suit, but the Queen card also means you’ve got lots of experience to draw from.”
“Your turn.” Sara gathered the cards into a pile, her mouth pulled down in a frown. She handed them over and Eve shuffled them, cut the deck, and then handed them back.
Sara held out the cards. “Pick three.”
As she leaned forward, Sara said, “What’s with the giant bruise on your leg?”
“What?” She looked down and saw a purple-and-green bruise high up on her inner thigh. “Oh, I fell off my new bike.” She chose three cards and laid them out.
“All right.” Sara turned over the cards and reached for the book. “Wow, you have two Major Arcana cards.”
“Is that good or bad?”
“I don’t know … let’s see. Well, your past is the Five of Pentacles, which is the element of Earth. It’s about losing relationships, or lacking faith during tough times. Seriously? That’s your past?”
Eve shrugged.
Sara placed a finger on the next card, a naked couple on a bed of dirt. He strained between her thighs, his entire focus on the woman beneath him. Her nipples were dark like Eve’s, and pointed with excitement — but her legs stuck out
straight instead of curling around him, and one of her hands reached toward the sky as though asking for help. She bet the woman wouldn’t get it.
“Your present is the The Lovers, which is a Major Arcana. And it’s reversed, which means disharmony, imbalance, and,” Sara turned the page, “a misalignment of values. Holy cow, have you been hanging out on a street corner somewhere?”
“Ha-ha.” Eve’s mouth had gone dry. “I’m more worried about that future one.”
“Yeah, Death. But I read that it doesn’t actually mean anything bad, not like you’re really going to take a long walk off a short pier. Hang on.” Sara flipped pages. “It means endings and beginnings. See? That’s not so bad. It’s about change, transformations, and transitions. Which makes sense. I mean, things are changing, right?”
Sara looked at the card again. “Oh, but wait, it’s also reversed. So, it actually means the opposite. Like, resistance to changes, or an inability to move on.”
“Huh,” Eve said. “I don’t think I resist changes.”
“Maybe not now, but this is your future card, remember?”
“Yeah.” She scooped the cards back into the pile. “I have apple slices. Did you bring any snacks? I’m starving.” Sara always brought good snacks.
“There’s stuff in my bag. Hey, there’s Leigh!” She stood up and waved at her brother, who jogged along the trail. Leigh waved in return, and when Sara turned away he blew Eve a kiss.
“Did you hear that rumour about him and Annabeth?” Sara rolled her eyes. “As if. She’s only thirteen.”
“What about them?” She kept her eyes on the food in Sara’s bag.
“The rumour mill in high school is out of hand, and it’s so stupid! Don’t they care that people can actually get hurt? Annabeth’s parents called the cops, if you can believe it. Mom opened the door to two police officers on the porch, and she almost passed out. She thought one of us had died.”
“What happened?” She gave up any pretense of disinterest.
Sara shrugged. “Not much. Leigh denied it, of course, and I guess Annabeth was denying it, too. But he’s getting totally harassed at school. He says he can’t wait to graduate and get the hell out of there.”
“Has he decided where he’s applying to college?” Eve asked, trying to sound only casually curious.
Sara shrugged. “He’s got a good chance at a football scholarship, if he wants to go back east, or a baseball scholarship if he wants to stay here. I’m betting he heads east, even though he likes baseball better. Hey, are you okay?”
“Yeah, of course. Should we open the bag of pretzels or eat the apple slices first?”
“Pretzels.”
The first pretzel turned to sawdust in her mouth, and she swallowed it with a grimace. She put the rest of her handful back in the bag.
“Annabeth’s really pretty, isn’t she?”
Sara shrugged. “I guess. You don’t think he really did something with her, do you?”
“There’s no way.”
“Yeah,” Sara said. “That would be gross.”
THIRTY-FIVE
THE KNOCK ON THE DOOR came during dinner. Gabriel was wearing more spaghetti than he was eating, and Eve was trying to salvage his favourite dinosaur T-shirt by scrubbing it in the kitchen sink.
“I’ll get it.” Button slid out from behind the table.
“Why don’t we ever remember to take off your shirt before we eat spaghetti?” Eve blew her hair out of her eyes in frustration, and then turned back to scrubbing.
“Show me how to twirl the noodles again?” Gabriel asked.
“Gabe, I’m trying to save a brontosaurus over here.”
“Eve?” Button returned to the kitchen with Detective Baird on her heels. She clutched the collar of her bathrobe in both hands.
“Mrs. Adler.” The detective looked dour.
Eve dropped Gabriel’s shirt in the sink. “Did you find him? Is he okay?”
Detective Baird gave a pointed look at her son.
“Gabe, go wash your hands and face in the bathroom.”
Wide-eyed, Gabriel slid off the bench seat and left the room, walking backward so he could keep an eye on the detective for as long as possible.
“Okay,” she said once her son was gone. “What’s going on? Have you found him?”
“Yes, we have,” Detective Baird said, and then quickly added, “and he’s alive.”
“Baruch Hashem.” Button plopped onto the seat as though her legs had given way.
“Is he okay? Was he in an accident or something?”
“He seems to be fine,” Detective Baird said.
“Thank you. Seriously, thank you for finding him.”
“Well, I can’t say we had much to do with it, in the end,” he said. “And I doubt you’ll be thanking me in a minute.”
“Why is that?”
“He walked into the station this morning and asked for a deal.”
“What?”
“What does that mean?” Button asked.
“It means he’s willing to testify against your granddaughter for a lessening of his own sentence.”
Button understandably looked flabbergasted. “What? What sentence? What have they done wrong?”
“He’s willing to implicate you in all three, Mrs. Adler.”
“In all three what?” Button asked.
“I need to bring you into the station. I’m willing to do it without the cuffs, for the sake of your family, if you agree to come peacefully.”
Eve blinked at him. “You’re arresting me?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve filed charges against me?”
“Charges!” Button said. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s okay, Button. It’s just a mistake.” Her voice sounded hollow and she doubted her words were any reassurance to her grandmother.
“I’m afraid it’s not a mistake,” Detective Baird said.
“And yes, charges have been filed against you in two of the deaths, so far.”
“Deaths!” Button said. “Whose deaths?”
“Mrs. Adler, I’d like you to come with me peacefully. But I do have officers waiting outside.”
“No,” she said faintly. “That won’t be necessary.”
“Good.”
“Wait a minute! Just wait one darn minute. Could someone please explain what in the world is going on?” Button said.
She turned to her grandmother, trying to think of what to say to protect her. But she had no lies left to tell, and truthful words had failed her long ago. Button was wild-eyed, pale, and trembling from head to toe.
Detective Baird said, “Leigh is pleading down on two counts of statutory rape —”
“Rape!”
“In exchange for testifying against your granddaughter in the deaths of Thomas Mahoney, Sara Adler, and Donna Gold.”
Button’s eyes bugged out, and her skin turned an alarming shade of purple. “Es vert mir finster in di oygn.”
“Button!” She grabbed her grandmother’s arm. “Are you okay?”
Button wheezed, clinging to her like a drowning woman.
“Take some deep breaths.” Eve went eye-to-eye with her grandmother, willing her to get through this moment. “It’s going to be okay. I promise, I promise, I promise. It’s going to be okay. Just breathe for me. Just breathe.”
“The maple syrup.”
“Don’t try to talk. Just take some deep breaths, okay?”
Button managed a gasping, shaky breath.
“That’s good. Just keep breathing. I need you to keep breathing.”
“Mrs. Adler,” Detective Baird said.
“Just give me a minute!”
“Would you like me to call an ambulance?” Baird asked.
“No,” Button said weakly.
“Are you sure?” Eve asked. “Maybe —”
“No,” Button said with more strength. “No ambulance.” She took several deep breaths, and the colour in her cheeks dimmed to a less al
arming shade.
The women clutched each other’s hands, their fear travelling on electrical currents between them.
“Grandma, I promise …”
She wanted to tell Button that it would be okay, that she had nothing to do with their deaths, that it was just a mix-up — anything to make her grandmother feel better. But she couldn’t form the words.
“You go and sort this out,” Button said. “I’ll take care of Gabriel until you get home.”
Eve kissed her grandmother’s cheek and followed Detective Baird out of the house. Three officers waited for them, and Baird said gruffly, “No cuffs.” He led her to the cruiser parked at the curb and opened the rear door for her.
“Mommy!” Gabriel sprinted barefoot from the house and across the damp grass.
Detective Baird nodded. “Go ahead.”
“Gabe.” She caught him and lifted him into her arms.
“Where are you going, Mommy? Are they bringing you to see Daddy?”
“Kind of. Can you stay with Button while I get some stuff sorted out?”
“When will you come home?”
“I’m not quite sure.” She buried her nose in his hair and breathed deeply. His head smelled like tomato sauce and baby shampoo.
“Will you read me a story tonight?”
Her tears disappeared into his mop of curls. “I think Button will have to.”
“Mommy, you’re not going to that garden I drawed you yet, are you?”
“No, buddy.”
“That’s good, ’cause I’m not ready.”
“Me, neither.”
And then Button carried Gabriel back to the house, and Detective Baird guided her into the backseat of the cruiser and closed the door, and she sobbed into the palms of her hands.
As they pulled away, she saw Gabriel standing in the living-room window, waving and blowing kisses. She placed a hand on the car window and imagined she touched her son’s round cheek instead of the cold glass. She wondered if she’d ever touch him again.
THIRTY-SIX
Eve’s Thirteenth Birthday
WHILE SHE WAITED for Sara to arrive, Eve sat on the bank of the river amid the weeds and prickling marsh grass, in the exact spot where her childhood had died, smoking one of Leigh’s joints. It burned her throat and lungs, but she held it in like he’d taught her; she held it in until she had to exhale or explode.
The Day She Died Page 21
