Clarity

by Kim Harrington

  “No!” I screamed and fell to my knees beside Justin. Blood seeped from his body, too much, too fast. The room spun, and I squinted and tried to focus. I stared at Justin’s chest, but couldn’t see the telltale rise and fall of breathing.

  “Sorry about your loverboy,” Stephen said. “But you won’t have long to mourn him. You’re next.”

  I stood up to face him, and Stephen slammed the gun against my head. I fell back down to the floor in a dizzy slump. Sticky blood dripped down my forehead. Why did he do that? Why not just shoot me?

  I looked up at him as realization dawned. “You want me unconscious.”

  He narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”

  “You can’t kill me when I’m awake and looking at you. You can’t.”

  “Don’t tell me what I can’t do. I’ve already killed two people.”

  I gave him a blank look. “Two?”

  “Mother made a mistake by killing that bitch. We could have dealt with her in other ways. I tried. But Mother had reached the end of her rope.”

  “So your mother did kill Victoria,” I said, wincing as my head started to throb. “Why?”

  “Because she was a little slut who wouldn’t take no for an answer,” he spat.

  I shook my head in confusion. “Was she your girlfriend or something?”

  “No! She was one of my father’s … dalliances. He only saw her a few times, when he’d go to Boston. He thought he was perfectly clear about their situation. But something set that little bimbo off and she thought she could come down here.” He started laughing now, almost maniacally. “That idiot actually thought she could be more than a mistress.”

  Voices echoed in my head. Nate had said the paper was investigating a possible Dallas Clayworth mistress. Joni had mentioned that she and Victoria cater-waitered fancy parties in Boston. Joni also pointed out that it was out of character for Victoria to come down here without knowing anyone and that in those final weeks, she’d been keeping a secret.

  I did have all the pieces. I just hadn’t put them together.

  Victoria met Dallas at one of his fund-raisers and they’d started an affair. She was fine keeping it quiet until her life at home fell apart. She lost her boyfriend and her best friend. So she decided to come down here to try to take her thing with Dallas to the next level.

  “Dallas turned her away,” I said, lifting my eyes to Stephen’s.

  “And then she tried to force his hand.” Stephen’s nostrils flared. “She threatened to go public. He’d lose the election.”

  “Still,” I said. “She didn’t have to die.”

  “My mother tried to reason with her on the phone,” Stephen said.

  I remembered my vision, when I’d touched Victoria’s cell.

  You don’t own him. He doesn’t want you anymore. He wants me.

  I’d assumed Victoria had been fighting with Joni over Joel. But no. She’d been fighting with Cecile. Over her husband.

  Stephen stared at a spot over my shoulder as if remembering a moment. “I even tried to reason with her myself, that night. I told her to leave my family alone and go back to Boston.”

  I remembered Stephen in the vision, whispering insistently in Victoria’s ear.

  He brought his eyes back to my face. “But none of it worked. So Mother decided to take things into her own hands. To protect our family and our future. She sent me home in a cab and then followed the girl and your brother back to the motel. She waited for Perry to leave, then went in and shot her with this gun. My father has a sizable collection. If the police search my house, they won’t even realize one is missing.”

  “She told you she was going to do this?” I asked, hoping to keep him talking.

  “No. But then that idiot Billy Rawlinson tried to blackmail her and she needed help. She told me to meet him and clean up that mess.”

  “And Joni?”

  “I did what had to be done.”

  “Why?”

  “That twit started her own investigation. She went to Yummy’s asking around about what guys Victoria had talked to that night. My mother saw her putting posters up. She got too close. So I had to take care of that, too. Both of them would be alive now if they’d minded their own business.”

  Pain radiated up from my knees, but I was too scared to adjust my position on the floor. I didn’t want to move one inch. I just wanted to keep him talking because, so far, that was the only thing keeping me alive. “So you’re saying they deserved it,” I said.

  “I had to kill both of them, don’t you see? To protect my family. And now I have to kill you to protect my family. But you’re the last one. Your brother is in la-la land, ready to put his fingerprints on this gun — the murder weapon. He’ll be put away for life for killing his sister and the mayor’s son. There will be no doubt left about who killed the others, since he was already the main suspect anyway. I can go to college, get away, and start over.”

  He swallowed hard. “I’m sorry about this, Clare. Truth be told, I liked you. I really did. That’s why I didn’t kill you right away after I saw you with Billy’s body, trying to use your ability.”

  I felt paralyzed. Every muscle in my body was stretched tight. “That was you in the woods watching me.”

  “I gave you a second chance to come to your senses and mind your own business. But you didn’t. You kept pushing. Now I have no choice. My mother never should have started this. But I have to finish it.”

  Maslov had been right. Stephen said she’d told him a redhead would bring him trouble, and I had. And she told me I was in mortal danger, and I was.

  My breath came in short gasps and my lungs ached. I blinked away a drop of blood that slid down my forehead. This was it. My last chance to reason with him. To beg for my life.

  “You don’t want to kill me,” I said.

  “Of course I don’t, Clare. But I have to.”

  “This isn’t you. You’re not a murderer,” I pleaded.

  “A couple weeks ago, I would’ve said the same thing. But you should know more than anyone how people surprise you. People can do things you never imagined they would. You think you know someone and then …”

  He shrugged and cocked the gun.

  Then my world went black. A heavy weight landed on top of me. I was on my stomach, my face mashed into the floor. I heard a gunshot. Wood splintering. Stephen screaming. The sounds of struggle surrounded me. I couldn’t see, and needed to know what was happening. I pushed up on my hands and rolled the weight off my back. It made an oomph sound.

  “Perry?”

  His head was bleeding and his eyes were eerily dilated. Definitely a concussion, but Perry had come to enough to save me when it counted. The front door was open. Detective Toscano and another officer had Stephen down on the floor, forcing his hands into cuffs as he screamed and writhed like an animal.

  Perry leaned over Justin’s unmoving body and placed two fingers on his pulse.

  Then he looked at me.

  TWENTY-SIX

  “I REALLY THINK YOU SHOULD GO HOME,” MOM said. “Get some rest.”

  My fingers gingerly touched the bandage on my forehead. “I’m resting here.”

  “Me too,” Perry said from the chair beside me. He had a matching bandage on his head. We looked like two idiots who’d decided to have a head-butting competition.

  We’d been at the hospital for hours. My injury wasn’t bad. All it needed was some Tylenol and gauze. Perry had to have three stitches, and he had a minor concussion, but he’d be fine.

  Justin … we didn’t know yet.

  Gabriel returned to the waiting area with an armful of cold bottled waters, which we all grabbed and gulped.

  “Gabriel,” my mother said, leaning forward in her chair. “How did your father know that my children were in trouble?”

  Gabriel took a long swig of water. “This crazy lady called the station, freaking out, screaming that we had to go to your house right now.”

  “Huh,” Mom said, pulling back
her frazzled hair into a low ponytail. “Milly must have heard the commotion.”

  Gabriel shrugged. “Whoever she was, she had a strong Russian accent. That’s all I know.”

  Madame Maslov. I shivered. She must have had a vision of the confrontation and called the police just in time. I swallowed hard. I’d prejudged her just like so many people prejudged me. And I was wrong. She was no more a fraud than I was.

  I went around the corner to toss my empty bottle in the recycling bin. Gabriel followed me. When we were alone, he gathered me to him and held me close, resting his chin on the top of my head. I sank into his embrace, sharing the weight of my emotions and exhaustion on his shoulders.

  “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice soft. “You were right about the Clayworths.”

  “Half right,” I said, sadly, pulling away. If I’d gotten the whole picture, I could have saved Justin.

  “Half is more than I gave you credit for.”

  “But you trusted me in the end. Enough to tell your father to bring Cecile in.”

  “I also want to apologize for suspecting your brother.”

  I forgave him quickly for that one, because I’d made a lot of quick and wrong assumptions lately, too.

  “I want to know something,” Gabriel said. He took a deep breath. “Could we start over? Is there any way you could give me another chance?”

  Before I could even think about Gabriel’s question, I saw movement over his shoulder. Mr. Spellman was speed walking down the hallway. I sprinted over to him as he reached the waiting area. Mom and Perry stood up.

  “How is he?” Mom asked.

  “The surgery was successful, and he’s awake. We’ve been talking and everything. He’s going to be fine.”

  My heart soared. I let out a deep breath I felt like I’d been holding in for hours.

  A collective relieved murmur went around the room.

  “My wife will only agree to go to the cafeteria if someone else keeps him company.” Mr. Spellman looked at me, and I nodded quickly.

  I dashed down the hallway and hurtled myself into the room, careful not to let the door slam behind me. Justin lay on the bed, eyes closed, face gray. His shirt was off and a large white bandage covered the left side of his abdomen. I closed my eyes and inhaled deeply through my nose. The relief was overwhelming. It was almost as if I couldn’t believe that he was all right until I saw it myself.

  “Clare,” Justin said.

  I rushed over to the side of the bed. “You’re awake.”

  “Yeah, I was just resting my eyes. I’m so happy to see you. I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  “How are you feeling?”

  Justin inched up a bit on the bed and winced. “Being shot sucks. I’ll be honest. But it was worth it if it saved you.” He smiled weakly.

  “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” I said.

  “You’re just saying that because I nearly died saving your ass.”

  I laughed. “I’m not. I realized it when I kissed you on the boardwalk.”

  His eyebrows lifted.

  “But that doesn’t mean I want to get back together.”

  “We will,” he said, crossing his arms on his lap. “It’s just a matter of time now.”

  “You’re very confident.”

  “Maybe I can see the future.” He winked.

  “Is there room for two more in this lovefest?” Perry asked, poking his head into the room.

  “Absolutely, dude,” Justin said.

  Perry and Gabriel sauntered in.

  “Dude,” Justin said, laughing at Perry. “Nice headband.”

  “It must be on too tight.” Perry reached up and fingered the bandage. “I have quite the headache.”

  “I’ve got to thank your dad, man,” Justin said to Gabriel, shaking his hand. “The doctor said if I’d been lying there much longer, I would have bled to death.”

  I watched the small talk continue between Gabriel and Justin. My eyes darted from one to the other, and I felt so conflicted. I decided it was time to go. Too many butterflies for me in this room.

  I backed out into the hallway, careful not to trip over a gurney someone had left beside the door.

  “Clarity.”

  I turned and found Madame Maslov hurrying down the hall toward me. “Your mother said I could find you here. I had things to say to her, and I need to say them to you as well.”

  “You were the one,” I said.

  She stopped short. “What is it you speak of now?”

  “You slashed my mom’s tire before we were about to go to the Clayworth house the first time. Then you called in with a fake appointment before I left the next time. Why didn’t you just tell me I was in danger?”

  She put her hands on her hips and gave me a look.

  “Oh yeah.” I smirked, remembering. “You did tell me.”

  “As I said before, you’re not good with the listening.”

  “But you didn’t give me any specifics.”

  “I did not know the who or the why. I just felt when you were about to be in trouble. I did what I could.”

  “Thank you for that.” I grabbed her hand. “I’m sorry my family hasn’t exactly been welcoming to you. That will change now.”

  “Now?” She cackled. “Just as I am leaving?”

  “You’re leaving town? Why?”

  “The purpose I was brought here for, was not nice.” She did a tsk-tsk motion with her finger.

  “What do you mean?”

  “I was … what is the word in English? Recruited. Someone paid for my rent, paid for my advertising, and all I had to do was my readings and please my customers. I thought this was a great deal. What a wonderful country, this America, with these investors. But now I have realized that I was part of plan to make revenge on your family. I do not agree with this.”

  It all made sense now. Why Stephen was in Maslov’s shop that day on the boardwalk. Why I saw Cecile walking toward it before our argument. “It was Cecile Clayworth who paid you.”

  “Yes,” she answered.

  It was payback for my snitching on Stephen in school. Damn, vengeance was like a hobby to that family.

  “I am sorry for this trouble I have helped with.” Maslov patted me on the cheek and turned to go.

  “Wait,” I said. “Before you go … can I have tomorrow’s lottery numbers?”

  She threw her head back and laughed. “No. No numbers of the lottery. But I will leave you with a quick reading.”

  She sidled up next to me, as if sharing a secret, and clasped my hand tightly between hers. She made a clucking sound and shook her head slowly. “I see two things in your future. One soon and one later. Soon, your brother will injure his ankle. And, later … someone’s love for you is not genuine … their feelings are not born of affection, but of sickness …” Her eyes snapped open and she dropped my hand. “Be wary.”

  “Okay … thanks.” I gave an involuntary shiver. Maslov had known when I was in danger before, sure, but this didn’t mean anything. Right? She was probably fifty-fifty, hit or miss. I hoped.

  “One more question.” I looked both ways down the hallway to make sure my mother wasn’t hanging around. “The man you saw who looked like my brother. Was he old enough to be my father?”

  Maslov’s eyes narrowed. “Why do you ask this?”

  “I haven’t seen or heard from my father in fifteen years.”

  She frowned, her lips pressed tightly together. “He could be. The comparison in looks was uncanny. But …”

  “But what?”

  “If he is your father, be glad he’s not here.”

  Before I had a chance to digest that nugget, the door to Justin’s room opened behind me. I glanced over my shoulder and saw Perry saying his good-byes to Justin. When I looked back, Maslov was already halfway down the hall.

  “Crap,” I said.

  “Whoa! Whoa!”

  I whirled around in time to watch Perry trip over the gurney, twist sideways, and land on the fl
oor. He yelped like a little girl.

  While holding his ankle.

  Later, when Mom finally allowed me to be out of her sight for a minute, I strolled down to the beach and sat on the warm sand. I scooped up a handful and let the grains slip through my fingers and drift away on the wind. Foam-tipped waves rushed forth and back, to the delight of squealing children, running with their pails, not a care in the world.

  I thought about Justin and Gabriel and my confusing feelings for both of them.

  I thought about Maslov’s grim words about the man who could be my father, and her dire warning about someone’s intentions toward me.

  And finally, I thought about Stephen and what he had done. In a twisted way, I could understand his motives. I knew about loyalty, about putting family before all others. I’d already learned some things I’d do to protect my own. I’d withhold information from the police. I’d use people. I’d lie.

  If pushed harder … how far would I go? Stephen had found that out.

  Hopefully I’d never have to know my own limits.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  My heartfelt thanks to:

  Scott Miller, my agent, for taking a chance on me.

  The entire Scholastic team. You are all made of awesome. Especially Aimee Friedman, editor extraordinaire. You had me at Veronica Mars.

  Susan Happel Edwards, for the title. And for being a hilarious, thoughtful, generous, smart, and fantastic friend. And a Hooplehead.

  Ted Curtin, for security camera info. Maybe in a future novel I’ll use something more high tech!

  The creators of the Xbox 360, for keeping my husband and son busy while I write.

  The Poker Crew, for Friday night laughs.

  The LOC girls, for many years of friendship.

  All the teen and adult readers, bloggers, booksellers, and librarians who have shown early enthusiasm for the book … thank you, thank you, thank you!

  Many other friends, old and new, too many to name, who I adore and appreciate. Thanks for your support and for all the good times.

  My parents, Dan and Barbara Harrington; my “outlaws,” Ann and Tony; and my entire extended family — all of you crazy people — from Massachusetts to Ireland. I love you!