“Don’t you love that stuff, though? It’s in your blood, right?” I asked.
“I know politics is where I’ll end up … but that’s my future. For now, I’m kind of sick of it all. I leave for college in two months. I think the distance from my parents will do me some good.”
Well, color me impressed. Stephen was a little deeper than I gave him credit for. And he seemed to have dropped his grudge against me for the whole test cheating scandal.
“Well, it was nice talking to you,” he said, starting to walk off.
I put my hand on his arm to stop him from leaving. “Stephen?”
He turned. “Yeah?”
I swallowed hard. “Why don’t you hate me?”
“What?”
“For telling on you. About the test.”
He shrugged. “I was mad at first, but it all worked out fine. And I guess I understand why you did it. I messed with your brother, so you messed with me. Family loyalty. I respect that.”
The band finished up the song and announced they’d be back later.
“And that’s my cue to go back to my family. Dad’s doing a speech,” Stephen said. “I’ve got to go.”
I held up the closest wall while boring men did boring speeches. Mom sidled up to me with a champagne flute in her hand. “I know, isn’t it disgusting?” she whispered conspiratorially in my ear.
“What?”
She motioned with her head to the table behind her. I glanced over her shoulder and saw Phil Tisdell and a woman seated next to each other. She wore a purple fitted kimono dress and her black hair was held up in a clip. Her face was angular and hard, not that pretty. I realized it was Madam Maslov. Her newspaper ad had included a photo, but this was the first time I was seeing her in real life. Phil whispered something in her ear, and she threw her head back in laughter.
“She cackles like a damned witch,” Mom said.
“You’re jealous!”
Mom straightened. “I am not. I’m just disappointed in Phil’s lack of taste.”
“Did they come together?”
“Yes,” she answered with a tinge of sadness in her voice.
“Mom, he can’t wait around for you forever. There’s only so many times you can turn a man down before he turns to someone else.”
“I could give you the same advice,” she said, snorted, then stormed off.
I was left to hold up the wall alone and watch as the mayor was introduced. Mr. and Mrs. Spellman approached the podium, with Justin following closely. His blond hair was getting a little long in front, and he brushed it out of his eyes. I remembered running my hands through that hair, how soft it was, how it smelled like salt when he’d return to our beach blanket after a swim.
Mrs. Spellman kissed her husband. Justin shook his hand. Then they both took their seats. As the mayor began to speak, Justin’s eyes roamed over the crowd. He found me, and I knew he wasn’t listening to a word his father was saying.
I chugged the rest of my water and escaped to the ladies’ room.
I leaned over the sink and concentrated on breathing. In and out. Don’t think about him. Breathe in. Breathe out.
The door opened, and I hoped it wasn’t my mother.
Worse. It was Tiffany.
“Well, looky here,” she said. “You’re missing the big speech.”
“I’m not in the mood, Tiffany.”
She stood still, glaring at me in the mirror.
I whipped around. “What?”
“Why don’t you have any girlfriends, Clare?”
“I … I have friends,” I stammered.
“Your brother and Nate Garrick don’t count. Friends. That. Are. Girls. How come you don’t have any?”
Before I could answer, she stepped closer. “I’ll tell you why,” she said, pointing her finger at me. “Because you’re a stuck-up bitch who thinks you’re better than everyone else.”
“That’s not true. This is a small town, and in case you didn’t realize it, people aren’t exactly friendly to me …”
“Oh, please. You don’t even try. You latch on to your brother, your brother’s friends, your brother’s job, your brother’s life. You’ve got nothing that’s your own. You used to piss me off, but now I feel sorry for you.”
She turned and headed for the nearest stall. Before closing the door she added, “Clare Fern, you’re the loneliest person I’ve ever met.”
SIXTEEN
MY LACK OF GIRLFRIENDS WAS NOT BREAKING NEWS. And, yes, it bothered me, but I never dwelled on it. There was nothing I could do to change it, so why waste the energy? I didn’t need girlfriends. I had myself. I had Perry. I had Nate. I had books and music and the ocean to swim in. I had my future, a blank slate, to look forward to. I’d make friends in college where no one knew who I was. Those were the facts I clung to in my lonely moments, and I never got too depressed over it.
But for some reason, being called out on my friendless state by Tiffany Desposito rankled me. It was one thing for me to know I had no friends. It was another thing entirely for other people to know. To talk about it. To laugh behind my back at it. Tiffany and her crew were the main reason no one would be friends with me anyway. She’d made it clear that anyone who associated with me would get the same treatment I got. And no one at Eastport High wanted that.
I felt lonely. And mad. Normally, when feelings like these rose up, I’d talk to Perry. But that wasn’t exactly a good option right now.
I was still fuming from my encounter with Tiffany when I walked in the door at Yummy’s a while later. I had to get out of the stuffy event and knew Yummy’s would be safe with that witch working the banquet. So I’d called a cab and left the drama behind.
I selected a stool that had no one on either side and ordered a hot fudge sundae. My plan was to sit there and eat until I forgot all about my awful day. What it felt like to see a dead body. My annoyance with Mom. Perry tearing down the posters and making himself look even more guilty. Tiffany’s words that only hurt because they were true. The investigation that wasn’t getting anywhere. And mostly, I wanted to forget the way I felt when I’d seen Justin at the banquet. I wished I could say a magic word and make all my feelings for him disappear.
Maybe I’d get a lobotomy.
For now, I’d eat.
“What’s your excuse?”
Apparently, there would be no peace for me at Yummy’s, either. I swiveled around to face Gabriel, standing behind me, holding a drink in his hand.
“My excuse for what?” I said.
“For looking at that bowl of ice cream like it was your last friend on Earth. I know what my excuse is for being here alone.”
“And what’s that?” I asked.
“My father got chewed out by the mayor today for not making any headway on the investigation. It’s his first case since we came here and not only has he not solved it, but the body count doubled.” He took a long swig from his straw. “Your turn.”
“I’m hiding from everyone I know.”
“Bad time at the banquet?”
“How’d you know I was there?”
His eyes swept down the length of my legs. “The girls don’t usually dress like that for a night at Yummy’s.”
I’d forgotten about my attire. I tugged at the hem of my dress and pulled it down my thighs a bit. “So what are you doing here?”
“Dad’s working around the clock, so I’m not exactly getting home-cooked meals. I just placed my order down at the end of the bar when I saw you come in. Mind if I stay?” He motioned his hand toward the empty stool beside me. “We don’t have to talk about the case.”
I took a bite of ice cream and considered it. “Maybe thinking about the case will help me stop thinking about … other stuff.”
Gabriel sat and studied my face for a few moments. “Justin Spellman messed you up good, didn’t he?”
I glared at him.
“Sorry. Back to the case.”
“Anything on Billy?” I asked.
“Not yet. They
’re going to compare the bullet to the one from the first victim to see if it’s a match. But that’s all they have right now.”
“Whatever happened with Joel Martelli and the stolen car?” I asked.
“Turns out he took it from some girl back in Boston, someone else he was cheating on the victim with. She refused to press charges and we had nothing to hold him with, so he’s gone.” He shook his head. “The victim really knew how to pick ‘em, huh?”
“Why do you do that?” I asked.
“Do what?”
“You always call her ‘the victim.’ She had a name, you know. Victoria. I’ve never heard you once say her name. Why is that?”
His face turned bright red, and he turned away from me. What was up with that? Was he embarrassed that I called him out on using too much cop-speak? Or was he angry?
“So what about you?” he snapped. “Have you picked up anything else?”
He used his fingers to make quotes as he said “picked up.” That riled me.
“Are you mocking me?”
“No. Why so defensive? Do you have reason to be?”
“I have no reason to be defensive. I’m the only one who’s gotten anywhere with this case. I’m the one who found the hole in the ceiling at the crime scene. I’m the one who got Joni to talk. I’m the one who found Billy’s note.”
Gabriel’s lips tightened. “And none of those things had anything to do with supposed psychic ability. You’re smart and you used common sense. That’s all.”
I let my spoon fall loudly onto the counter. I couldn’t believe he was acting like such an ass. After everything, he still thought I was a fake. I wanted to cry. I wanted to slap him.
Instead, I walked out.
The parking lot was pretty empty for that time at night. The rain from the morning was coming back. A slow drizzle dripped onto my skin. It didn’t feel that bad, considering how humid it was outside, but waiting for a cab was going to suck. I sure as hell wasn’t going back inside, though.
“Clare!”
I spun around. “Leave me alone, Gabriel.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Go back inside.”
“Please, just listen.” He held my shoulders, forcing me to face him. A drop of rain trailed down his cheek. His eyes were pleading, almost tortured. “I’m a jerk.”
I nodded slowly. “Go on …”
“I don’t know why I say these things. I mean, I do know why. Because I don’t agree with what your family does for a living. But I hate that I keep hurting you because of it. You’re a good person and I like you.” He paused and added, “More than I should.”
I silently reminded myself to breathe.
“I’m sorry I say these things. It’s … my past …”
I thought he was going to explain more, but instead he kissed me. Full on kissed me. I’d never been kissed by anyone but Justin. I was lucky he was holding my shoulders, because my knees weakened and I was pretty sure I couldn’t feel my legs. He tentatively moved his hands down to the small of my back. My mouth opened under his, deepening the kiss. He moaned and pulled me tighter against his body.
And then a car horn honked.
I pulled back and looked. My mom pulled up next to us in her Prius, here to destroy my moment, probably to get revenge on me for abandoning her at the banquet.
She rolled down the window and yelled, “Need a ride or are you already getting one?”
I groaned, but going with Mom was the smart thing to do. Staying here would lead to more kissing and I didn’t know if I wanted that. Gabriel was gorgeous and smoldering and all those wonderful things, but he also seemed to hate who I was.
“See you later,” I said to him and slid into the passenger seat.
Mom raised one eyebrow and gave a little whistle.
I elbowed her in the side.
Despite the slight stress headache I woke up with the next morning, I still had a little smile on my face. I’d been surprised by both Gabriel’s kiss and my intense physical reaction to it. My emotions, however, were all over the place. Working on this case gave me a thrill like I’d never had before. And, despite how hot and cold Gabriel ran and how confusing my own feelings for him were, I had to admit I was enjoying being close to him. Last night’s kiss told me he felt the same.
I shuffled into the bathroom, shook two Tylenol from the bottle, and downed them with a full glass of water. I’d feel better by the time I was out of the shower.
A half hour later, I was dressed in tan shorts and a green V-neck tee. I put on pale pink lipstick and scrunched some anti-frizz stuff into my crazy hair. I’d let my damp curls air dry and they’d look better soon enough. Humidity did terrible things to me. I’d be much prettier if I lived in the desert.
I hoped Gabriel had work for me today. I couldn’t wait to see him again. I wondered if we’d talk about the kiss or pretend it never happened. He was probably as mixed up as I was, but the one thing I knew for sure was that I wanted to be near him. I checked my phone, but had no messages. With a sudden hankering for an unhealthy breakfast, I decided to walk to the 7-Eleven for a donut.
I grabbed my bag but couldn’t find my house keys. I always toss them on the kitchen counter when I come in. I vaguely remembered doing that last night after Mom and I got home. But I was still in a fog from Gabriel’s unexpected kiss, so maybe I put them somewhere else by mistake.
The doorbell rang, so I had to temporarily abandon the search. Hoping it was Gabriel, I primped myself quickly and opened the door. The person I least expected stood on the other side.
“My name is Olga Maslov,” she said, with a strong Russian accent.
“I know who you are.” I jutted my chin out. “What can I do for you?”
She tilted her head to the side, her eyes closed. “You will find your keys on the floor.”
My mouth opened. “How did you …”
Her eyes opened and snapped to attention. “That is not the reason I am here. I am here to warn you.” Her eyes peered over my shoulder, presumably to see if I was alone.
“About what?”
“You are in danger.”
“Okay. Can you be more specific?”
“Not at this time. The … um … how do you say … specific is unclear. But you are in grave danger.”
Suddenly, the proverbial lightbulb lit up in my head. “Ah. Let me guess, you want me to leave town to protect myself?”
She smiled broadly. “Yes, that would be wise.”
“And maybe my brother and mother, too? Leaving you as the only game in town during peak season.”
Maslov frowned and shook her head. “No. I do not care about the business things. This warning is not to stop the competition. I’m telling you this for your own good.”
“Sure, lady.” I started closing the door but she held it open with her surprisingly strong arm.
“You must believe me,” she whispered.
With one last disappointed shake of her head, Maslov walked off. I watched her for a moment, then closed the door. She was a crazy woman. She wanted to scare us off so she could have all the summer business. That was all. Plus, she was a fraud.
I walked over to the counter where I remembered chucking my keys. Then I wondered if maybe I had tossed too hard. I got down on my hands and knees and saw the silver glinting at me from under the fridge. I had flung them too hard and they’d bounced off and slid.
Onto the floor.
SEVENTEEN
I PUT MASLOV’S DIRE WARNING AND HER CORRECT guess about my keys out of my mind and walked to the store. The donut lasted only the first thirty seconds of my walk home. That poor thing never stood a chance. When I came back, I found Mom in the kitchen putting a bagel in the toaster.
“Want one?” she asked. “I got plenty.”
“Nah. Just had a donut.”
Mom raised one eyebrow. I knew what was coming. She grinned and said, “So …”
“Don’t go there, Mom.”
She moved her hips back a
nd forth and sang, “Clare and Gabriel, up in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. First comes —”
“First comes a hissy fit if you don’t stop,” I interrupted.
“Fine, fine.”
Her bagel popped out of the toaster and she covered it liberally with peanut butter.
“Where’s Perry? “ I asked.
“I heard the shower running a little while ago, so he should be joining us soon.”
I thought about the last time I’d seen my brother, when I found the flyer with the picture of Victoria in his room. His state of mind had not been good. I was worried. Nate was worried. Then I realized … Mom would be worried, too, if she happened to be reading my thoughts right now. I hurried out of the kitchen, calling over my shoulder, “I’m going to sit on the porch!”
Unfortunately, Mom followed me.
I sat on an old wicker chair and focused on the nice warm weather, the cars going by, the girl walking her dog. Anything that would keep my mind off Perry, while Mom stood staring at me, munching her bagel.
“You really think I don’t already know?” she said.
Damn it. “You picked it up from me?”
“No, you’ve hidden it quite well until now. Mr. Mopey has been trying to hide upstairs, but anytime he’s around it’s all he’s thinking about.”
“Why haven’t you said anything?”
“I didn’t know you knew and, well, I didn’t quite know what to do about it.”
“What do you think he should do?” I asked.
“I think he should go to the police.”
“Why? He’ll become the top suspect!”
“But if he hides it from the police and they find out some other way, it’ll make him look more guilty than if he had voluntarily shared the information.”
“But the police might never find out,” I said.
“Aren’t you required to tell them? You are working for them now.”
“Unofficially. Plus, I can help them without sacrificing my own brother.”
“If they find out, you could be charged yourself.”
“I don’t care, Mom.”
She put her plate down on the porch railing and took me by the shoulders. “I don’t want both my kids in jail because of this. Honesty is best.”
Clarity Page 12
