A Murder of Magpies

by Sarah Bromley

  There had to be a way to lessen the toll. If there wasn’t, was it possible I’d die?

  “Wait a second,” I argued. “I’m not the only person who can block Vayda. Her dad—”

  “—isn’t a conduit,” Sister Tremblay interrupted. “Emory has merely become very skilled at deflecting anyone who pries into his mind or emotions. He had lots of practice, considering his wife. Lorna had another conduit.”

  My limbs felt heavy, the weight of everything Sister Tremblay had said slogging through my veins. I slouched in the chair. Muted. Stunned. How could I tell Vayda about my being a conduit? She already didn’t accept what she was. She’d never forgive herself.

  She would destroy me if I stayed with her.

  I could take it. Or I prayed I could.

  “You want to help Vayda and Jonah learn to control their abilities,” I said. “Can’t you help us figure out this conduit shit?”

  The spikes in her pulse quickened. “I can’t. Getting involved with them anymore…I can’t.”

  “Sister, please.” I was begging, didn’t care that she was scared. “With Emory being questioned by the police, they need help. You promised him.”

  She backed into her pillow, but there was no place to hide. “That was before. Helping them can get people killed. I’m sorry, Ward.”

  “So what changed your mind?” I demanded. “I know Marty attacked you, but you’re the only person in Black Orchard who knows what they are, who could help them. Please!”

  “Marty?” Her forehead puzzled, and she drew her hand up to the bruises on her throat. “He didn’t do this.”

  If it wasn’t Marty…I had to take a deep breath. “Who did?”

  She shuddered, and then a strange cry leaked between her lips, one sick, wounded, and terrified. “Like I said, Lorna had a different conduit. Someone close to her. Someone who loved her but couldn’t be with her. Someone whose mind she wrecked.”

  I rose to my feet, the name already in my mind as I backed toward the door.

  “Rain Killian.”

  ***

  I parked the Chevy in front of the Silvers’ house and fished a cough drop from my coat pocket.

  How could I tell Vayda? She’d never trust in anything, anyone again.

  I didn’t want her to be like me, broken beyond repair.

  I spat the cough drop back into its wrapper, and despite the heaviness in my shoulders, I charged up the front steps of the house in the woods and flung open the front door. Neither she nor Jonah was in the living room or the study. They weren’t in the kitchen, and it wasn’t until I went up the stairs and found the attic ladder pulled down that I guessed where they were. Moving so fast my chest heaved, I climbed the stairs to the attic, intent on getting out what Sister Tremblay had told me, but I froze once I pulled my body up through the opening.

  A bare light bulb glimmered too brightly against the sharp angles of the roof. Most of the room was unfinished wood coated with dust. Some old trunks, a couch that had to be at least two decades old, and a dressmaker’s mannequin were all neatly tucked against one side. Vayda held an electrical cord. Identical wires ran up and down the length of the attic, feeding into the corners. Jonah had barely enough room to stand without ducking his head.

  “What are you guys doing?” I asked.

  “I’ve been hearing sounds for a while,” Vayda admitted. “I thought it was birds and came up here to check it out.”

  I took some of the electrical cord, following the odd map where it tacked to the floor until I reached the corner. With a bit of fidgeting, I unearthed a camera set to peer down into the upstairs hallway. Other cameras were situated along the bedrooms, the stairway, and if I had to guess, most of the house was rigged.

  “That’s one hell of a security system on the house,” I remarked. “Isn’t it a little overkill to have cameras inside?”

  “We don’t have a security system,” Jonah answered.

  There were footprints in the dust, fresh footprints where the tread didn’t match my boots or the soles of Jonah and Vayda’s sneakers. Someone had been in the attic recently. “Vayda, how’d you guys wind up with this house?”

  “It was Rain’s,” she answered. “He’s owned it for years and said we’d be safe here after Mom died.”

  Oh, God. My chest ached. I threw down the electrical cord. “How many times have you told me you always feel like you’re being watched? If you don’t have a security system, who sees the feed from these cameras? Who could? Last night, when your dad said to call Rain, did you call him at home or on a cell phone?”

  “What? Why? That doesn’t make any difference. I called his cell phone because no one answered at his number in Hemlock. What’s going on? You’re freaking out.”

  Panic rose up my gut. I wanted nothing more than to get her and Jonah out of that house, get them somewhere safe, but they had to understand why. “No one answered in Hemlock because Rain was already here. How do you think he got to town so quickly? Marty had nothing to do with what happened to Sister Tremblay. It was Rain.”

  “That’s insane,” Jonah retorted. “He wouldn’t do that. He’s our godfather.”

  I put Vayda’s hands on the sides of my face. She was scared, and I hated being the person frightening her. I wasn’t losing it. I knew exactly what was going on, but how to get her and Jonah to believe me? “Sister Tremblay told me everything. Read me. Get in my head. See if I’m making this up.”

  Shaking as our eyes locked, I felt mine dilate, opening wider to let her into my mind when a car door slammed outside. All three of us rushed to an octagon-shaped window where sunlight streamed into attic, lighting up every particle of dust in the air.

  In the sharp light of the sunset, Emory climbed out of a green Buick and climbed the front steps with Rain right behind him.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Vayda

  The front door squealed as it opened. Dad moved slowly, an arthritic gait, the same that plagued him after moving furniture. The smell of furniture polish and coffee came off his shirt as he put his arms around me, and I listened to his heart’s thudding. Jonah and Ward had hidden the attic ladder, and while Dad was good at keeping secrets, I wasn’t so much.

  Before my godfather entered the house, I blurted, “Dati, I think Rain’s—”

  “Shh.” My father held the back of my head. “I know, Magpie.”

  I scanned his thoughts. He didn’t think of Rain or Mom. Instead, I saw the jail cell with an unforgiving metal bench. Jonah cracked his knuckles, and his hands sparked and died, sparked and died, until Dad reached to hug him.

  “Makes a mighty nice picture, don’t it?” Rain lugged in his suitcase. He wore khakis and a red sweater. Good enough to negotiate his client’s release from police custody on a Saturday evening. He moved to shake my brother’s hand, but Jonah recoiled and bumped into Ward.

  “You got a green face, boy,” Rain remarked, pointing to Ward. “You okay?”

  “I smelled something rotten, thought maybe it was coming from inside the attic.”

  Rain’s mouth pursed. “Vayda, be a dear and wrestle up some coffee. Gonna be a long evening.”

  I steadied my hands enough to concoct a potent brew of coffee beans and water. As I brought out his mug, his fingers brushed mine and transferred a hate as black and sticky as tar.

  “What happens next?” Jonah asked.

  “Well, old Em’s in a heap of trouble.” Rain withdrew his cigarettes from his pocket, tapped one on his hand, and lit it. “He’s been slow to learn you never trust the man whose girl you stole to make your own.”

  My hands cramped, currents stunted. To hear the words spoken hurt more than merely knowing. Dad’s face rippled between anger and despair. “Lorna’s dead, Rain. I lost her, too.”

  “You took her from me,” Rain corrected him. “By all rights, your life should’ve been mine.”

  Jonah stepped forwa
rd, but Ward barricaded the path, shaking his head. Not a good idea to rush a demented man.

  Dad massaged his temples and asked, “If you’ve held a grudge for twenty-odd years, why didn’t you leave my ass to rot in jail?”

  “’Cause, frankly, jail’s too good for you.” Rain propped one foot on the coffee table. “You did good enough by Lorna, but after y’all returned to Georgia, I’d had enough. You had a wife, kids, everything I wanted, and you rubbed it in my face. Lorna and I were close, but she’d never leave you.”

  I locked eyes with Dad who glanced to my brother, thoughts fast. Jonah, get your sister out of here. Take Ward with you.

  I wanted to scream that we weren’t leaving without him, but my father couldn’t hear me.

  As if sensing my reluctance, he ordered, Do what I say!

  Jonah drew his finger along the side of a lamp on an end table. With a flick of his wrist, the lamp careened off the table, shattering. His fist met the side of Rain’s face, forcing him back, head bobbing, but Rain reached into his waistband. A glint of metal. The butt of a pistol caught Jonah in the temple. He dropped to the floor, cradling his head.

  I dove to help him, but Dad pulled me back. “I have to get to Jonah!”

  Against my struggling, Dad tightened his grip. “Vayda, don’t think for a second he wouldn’t shoot you!”

  I stopped squirming and yet I wanted to break out of his arms to take care of my brother. My twin.

  Ward crouched beside Jonah and raised his hands in defense as the safety on the gun clicked. Rain stood over them, aiming. “Are you sure your Mind Games are faster than a bullet?”

  Dad angled himself between Rain and the boys. I leaned against my father and yelled, “Rain, are you out of your head? Mom wouldn’t want you to hurt anyone.”

  “Doesn’t matter.” Rain cracked his neck. “As your daddy said, Lorna’s dead.”

  He shoved Ward, and his shoe drove into Jonah’s left side. My brother howled, and my ribs reacted to the crunch of his bones still healing from Marty’s attack two months before. My lungs fought to suck in breath. Rain whipped around with the gun and aimed at Dad.

  A putrid fog came off my godfather, spoiled like a corpse in a marsh under the July sun. I retched and grabbed the wall for support. Breathing in through my nose, out through my mouth.

  Ward put his arm around me. “She’s sick. Let me take her to the restroom.”

  Rain considered the clamminess of my brow. “Hurry on up. We’ve got important matters to discuss.”

  In the bathroom, I could breathe. My skin was cool, and my mouth tasted of metal, though my head was clear. Ward shut the door and climbed on the sink to work on the lock on the half-sized window above.

  “I’ll open this window, and you’ll go for help,” he whispered. He exaggerated his cough as he banged against the corners of the window. The heel of his palm slammed the lock, and he muttered, “I hate old houses. Between the ghosts and the bad plumbing, nothing works.”

  A fist thumped on the door.

  Ward scuttled off the sink. “Vayda’s still sick.”

  “Too bad,” Rain’s voice came through the door. “Wash up and come out.”

  Again on the sink, Ward jimmied the window while I mocked the sounds of cleaning up. Time. We needed more time. Another bang on the door, the old hinges yielded to the force of my godfather’s shoulder, and Rain rushed into the bathroom. He yanked Ward’s shirt, toppling him from the sink.

  “Leave him alone!” I chased after them as Rain nudged the gun into Ward’s spine and marched him down the hall.

  “Boy, you’re a hassle!” he scolded and shoved Ward beside my father on the couch.

  Queasy again, my head lolled. Too many people in the room, too much emotion sliding from their minds. I sensed Jonah probing my thoughts as he lay on the floor, but neither of us could focus. Between Dad’s concern and Ward’s leapfrogging from escape plan, discard, escape plan, all I had was hissing static in my brain.

  If only I could bear down and heave away the energy barreling over me.

  “I’m done messing around.” Rain grabbed Dad and steered him toward the front door, stopping to pull up Ward from the couch. “Everybody outside.”

  Energy scorched my palms as I touched Jonah’s back. He coddled his ribs while I helped him stand. The pain he was in—overwhelming and brain-blinding. He couldn’t be much help.

  “My ribs are broken.” He cringed. A sputtered groan. “I can’t breathe.”

  Rain opened the front door. “Come on now, darlin’. I’m waiting on you.”

  I scowled as my shoulders took as much of Jonah’s weight as I could. We lurched down the steps onto the gravel drive. Winter’s dusk shaded our faces. The snow had begun to blue. Rain cursed below his breath and hauled Ward by the arm, prodding Dad’s shoulder with the barrel of the gun. “Woods. Now.”

  Dad set a long glance on Jonah and me and lumbered around the barn into the woods. The snow was over two feet deep even fifty yards in the trees. The cuffs of my jeans and shoes were soaked, and the cold burned my skin. There had to be a way out.

  Ward abruptly threw his entire weight into Rain, knocking him to the ground. I darted toward them, but Jonah snagged my sweater. His teeth ground tight as he fought against pain.

  “Let go!” I slapped my hands against his, but he wouldn’t release me.

  Ward and Rain wrestled in the snow until a sharp echo of gunfire cracked against the sky. I screamed, and everything sounded muffled. No one moved. I wasn’t sure if my heart even beat. Rain climbed off Ward, who was on his hands and knees in the snow. My godfather’s hand shook as he aimed the pistol at Ward. “Next time you take me on, you’re dead.”

  Ward wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, and Dad held out his hand to help him stand. My ears were still ringing from gunfire.

  Tracking Dad through the woods, Rain mused, “Lorna made trouble for herself as I reckoned she would. I whittled down those charges against her and wanted y’all good and relaxed.”

  Dad stepped over a fallen branch. “Then you succeeded. We honestly thought we’d go to Vermont and start over again.”

  Rain paused as he waited for Jonah and me to catch up, his face warmed by the pink lemonade-tones of the lowering sun, and gold rays reflected off his hair.

  “Lorna confided in me that your marriage was in a thorny patch and she’d been sleeping on the veranda.” He tilted his head from side to side. “Easy enough to start a fire in your bedroom. Pour in some gas around that window that never locked too well. You know, the one you were supposed to fix but never got around to since you worked all the time. I lit a match, walked away, and waited. My only fault was that you, Em, were supposed to be in that bed.”

  Dad staggered. “You hated me that much? My wife is dead because of you. My children lost their mother because you messed up. You’ve already hurt me worse than if you’d killed me.”

  I stumbled on a tree branch. The nerves in my hands were filaments waiting for an electrical arc. All this time we’d been so afraid of someone exposing us, and yet the one person we trusted most to keep our identities hidden was our greatest threat.

  Jonah stopped to catch his breath. “You could’ve killed us all.”

  Rain released Ward and approached my brother. He slipped the hand not holding the gun under Jonah’s arm to give me a break from holding up my brother’s bones and said, “Son, losing you was fairer than seeing your mama with your daddy. Still, should’ve been your mama with you kids on my porch.”

  My brain blinked, thoughts muted, followed by the crushing of my heart. He was right. Mom never would have ruined her marriage, but Rain knew her secrets. For good and bad, we were comfortable with him.

  An owl circled overhead, and the wind picked up as the sun skulked lower. Rain leered at Dad, rambling, “Watching your face when I sent that newspaper with Lorna’s photo your way was priceless. Oh, how you
squirmed.”

  Dad trudged twenty more feet into the woods and rested in a clearing. “If this is about you and me, why don’t you let the kids go? They aren’t part of this.”

  Rain licked his lip. I didn’t like that crooked gleam in his eye.

  “Here’s the deal, Em. I’ve got nothing to lose. We’ll say it was questionable ethics but I’m banned from practicing law down south. Something needs to change, and I’ve got unfinished business.” He appraised me from head to toe. “Vayda, I saw you and your brother out in the woods. You could work Mind Games in my favor like your mama did.” He half-smiled. “Maybe you can pass for your mama in other ways, too.”

  “Stay away from my daughter!” Dad roared.

  Ward peeled away from walking with Dad, fist ready, and Rain slapped him. “Boy, you gonna stop me? I’ve reviewed your past, how your daddy preferred drugs to you. You got a criminal record that’ll fuck up your life. No one would give a shit if you disappeared.”

  Rain aimed the gun at Ward’s chest and backed him up near Dad. Ward shut his eyes and his mouth moved in a voiceless prayer.

  “On your knees, Em!” Rain shouted.

  I fell on my knees.

  Dad knelt, his voice vibrating as he begged, “Rain, these kids have no one without me. They need me.”

  Rain twisted Ward’s arm and held the back of his shirt, forcing the gun into his hand and focused it on Dad’s chest. “Too late, Em. You’re already dead.”

  I grabbed my head, peeking through my splayed fingers as I waited for gunfire. Dad shared a glance with Ward, his chin trembling. My hands tingled with sorrow seeping from broken hearts, broken souls. Ward struggled to balk even with Rain pushing the gun in his hand to Dad’s head.

  The wind froze the tears streaming down my cheeks. There had to be some way to stop more death, more destruction.

  “Come on, Rain,” Jonah yelled, holding his ribs. “Haven’t you done enough?”

  Rain shook his head, intoning behind Ward’s ear. “Kid, you’re gonna shoot this man and never know daylight again.”