I turned my head slowly. Junior squeezed my hand and gave me one of his beautiful but rare smiles. "Thanks for telling me. I always knew you were special.
His words were so unexpected, so sweet, my mouth dropped open. I slumped against the seatback, weak with relief. The heavy burden I'd been carrying alone lifted from my heart and soared away on the soft night air. I threw back my head and laughed until tears poured down my face. Junior gave me a brief, worried look before putting the car in gear.
"You okay?
"Oh, yeah," I giggled. "Couldn't be better.
When we pulled into Uncle Sid's driveway, I pointed at the trailer. "You can pull in by the pick-up. I'd ask you in but my mom isn't feeling too well.
"Yeah, I heard." Junior glanced over at me in the dim light.
I was dying to know what he heard, but didn't ask, because if I didn't like the answer I'd have to go into attack mode, and I was feeling way too mellow for that. Instead, I leaned over and pecked him on the cheek. "Thanks so much. I guess I'll see you at school.
Instead of pulling back, I moved in closer until I felt heat radiating from his body. Junior gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared straight ahead. Jeez, what was I doing wrong? Granted, I didn't have much experience, and I wasn't planning on being another check-mark on his, "I've screwed every freshman girl list," but a little kiss would be okay.
Finally, he sighed, put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me close. He murmured into my hair, "You'd better get out of the car before I do something I'll be sorry for.
I lifted my face to look at him. "Why would you be sorry?
His lips were right there, just inches away. I gave him an encouraging smile.
"You're a good kid, Emerson, and we're going to keep it that way.
I must have looked disappointed, because his arm tightened and he touched his lips to mine, a warm, feathery touch that made me shiver. He leaned across me and opened the door. "Go. I'll see you tomorrow.
I smiled as I walked to the trailer. Not counting the stupid kissing game where Donny Simonson had to stand on his tiptoes to reach my lips, I'd just experienced my first almost kiss. In spite of the awful day, things were looking up.
Chapter Thirteen
It was after school and I was sitting in the detention room catching up on the work I missed the day before. I thought Junior would be there. But Junior turned on the charmeven school officials couldn't resist himand received clemency because he had to go to work. So, it was just me and fellow detainee, Sonja Ortega, who was painting her fingernails green, glaring at me through black-rimmed eyes and muttering threats.
"You think you're hot? You think Junior likes you? You'd better stay away from Junior, or you'll be one sorry white chick!"
Detention is what happens when you leave school without permission or, in Sonja's case, tell your chubby homeroom teacher his face looks like a pig's ass. Either way, you get to spend time with Mr. Ted Thornburg, who's a retire-rehire. That's what they call old dudes who've retired after teaching about a hundred years and want to come back part time. He told us to call him "Mr. Ted," and he wore hearing aides in both ears but took them out because the noise kept him awake. True to form, he was dozing in his chair, his chin against his chest.
I had only my wits to keep Sonja from beating the crap out of me, even though I'd briefly considered using the TKP as a diversionary tactic ... like making Sonja's bottle of nail polish scoot across the top of her desk. I'd watch it with a horrified expression and yell, "It's an earthquake! Get under the desk. Quick!"
But I hadn't used TKP since the incident with the Poor White Trash boys. And what if Sonja (who was no dummy) figured out I'd somehow caused it? It would give her way too much ammunition. I tried using reason instead.
"Look, Sonja, Junior and I are just friends. I needed a ride and he gave me one. That's it.
Her lip curled into a sneer. "Yeah, right. I've seen the way he looks at you. Like he wants to...
I leaned forward so I wouldn't miss a single word of what Sonja thought Junior wanted to do to me. Before she could finish, Mrs. Burke popped into the room. She marched over to Mr. Ted and tapped him on the shoulder. He awoke with a snort and leaped to his feet. He glared at Sonja and me. "Get to work, you two!
Sonja and I looked at each other and snickered, a rare moment of solidarity as we faced a common enemy.
"I'd like to talk to Allie," Mrs. Burke said. "She can finish her homework in my room.
Without waiting for an answer, she headed for the door. "Come with me, Allie.
"See you around, Sonja," I whispered. "Mr. Ted will be asleep soon and you can finish your fingernails. Cool color, by the way.
Yeah, I was totally sucking up to Sonja, but who wants to get beat up in the girls' bathroom?
"See ya," she said. Her homicidal glare had softened to one of mere hostility. Hostility, I could handle.
Turned out homework was the last thing on Mrs. Burke's mind.
"How's your friend, Kizzy?" she asked after I settled into my desk.
"Still in a coma.
Junior had let me use his cell phone during lunch. Nurse Haugen told me Kizzy's vital signs were stronger and she might not die after all. And no, Kizzy's fake nephew had not returned, but Carmel had arrived and was at her mother's bedside.
Mrs. Burke sat in the desk next to me and folded her hands. "What I'm about to tell you must be held in the strictest confidence. You can tell no one, not even your mother. Especially your mother.
I didn't know what to say. It was Mrs. Burke who told me if an adult ever said what she just said, tell a trusted adult. She, of course, was my trusted adult. I must have looked confused because she fluttered her hands nervously. "I know, I know. That sounded bad. But I don't want to get my daughter in trouble. You know Shelly's a paralegal for Big Ed and his son, right?
I nodded, still trying to connect the dots.
Big Ed's son was known as 'Little Ed,' which was totally screwed up, because Big Ed was a dried-up little guy with fluffy white hair that looked like a dandelion gone to seed. He wore tiny, tasseled loafers and glasses that made his eyes look enormous. Little Ed, on the other hand, was well over six feet, had broad shoulders, greasy, swept-back hair and liked three piece suits.
Mrs. Burke looked around the roomchecking for spies, I guessthen leaned close to me. "Shelly works mainly for Little Ed. Probate, wills, stuff like that." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "The day Kizzy Lovell was attacked, she had an appointment to sign her will." She paused and waggled her eyebrows. "Her new will.
"Uh huh." I wondered why Mrs. Burke thought drawing up a new will was such a big deal.
"The new will left a small amount of money to her daughter, Carmel." Her gaze darted to the door and back to mine. "You were named as the primary beneficiary. Had she signed the will, the rest of her fortune would go to you, Allie.
I felt the air leave my lungs in a whoosh. "Wha ... but ... how..." I stammered, trying to get my mind and mouth to work together. A sudden chill crawled up my spine, and I scrunched down in my chair.
"And that's not all." Her words seemed to bounce around the silent room.
"There's more?" I croaked.
"Kizzy's appointment was on Tuesday. On Monday, Shelly accidentally overheard Little Ed make a phone call to Carmel. He told her she was out of the will and you were in.
"Did he tell her when Kizzy was coming in to sign it?
"Yes.
"Oh, jeez." The dots were connecting and it wasn't a pretty picture. "What Little Ed did, isn't that against the rules or something?
"Absolutely," Mrs. Burke said. "Kizzy is his client and he supposed to maintain lawyer-client confidentiality. What he did was unethical.
I wondered if it was ethical for Shelly to "accidentally" listen in on a telephone conversation, but didn't ask. Instead, I thought about my encounter with Carmel. She seemed shallow, not evil. Sure, she'd looked at her mother with impatience and a kind of amused superiority, but I
hadn't seen hatred in her eyes.
I said, "I don't want to believe Carmel would try to kill her own mother.
"People are capable of doing terrible things when there's money at stake.
"Has Shelly talked to Deputy Philpott?
"Philpott has an appointment with Little Ed today. He'll find out about the new will, but Shelly can't reveal what she heard, or she'll get fired. But, Philpott's not stupid. He'll check out Carmel and see if she has an alibi for Tuesday.
"Oh my God!" I jumped up. "When I called the hospital, the nurse told me Carmel was there, sitting with her mother. Do you think...?
I couldn't say it, could hardly bear to think about Carmel slowly lowering a pillow over Kizzy's face, snuffing out the tiny flicker of life she clung to so tenaciously.
Panic stricken, I started for the door. "I've got to do something.
"Use my cell phone," Mrs. Burke said.
Before I could ask for A. Haugen, the nurse's station connected me to Kizzy's room. Carmel answered, which startled me into a brief stammering fit. When I regained my wits, I said, "I just called to check on Kizzy. How is she?
Carmel yawned into the phone. "About the same.
"Is, uh, Teddy there with you?
"Naw, he had some business to take care of.
"Are you going to stay for a while?
Carmel whined, "It's boring here. The doctor doesn't know when Mom will wake up. Deputy Dawg wants to talk to me then I'll probably split. The hospital will call if her condition changes. I mean, really, what can I do?
I breathed a sigh of relief. Carmel sounded like her usual "it's all about me" self, not a daughter intent on murdering her mother. Unless, of course, Teddy planned to sneak in later and do the dirty deed. I murmured sympathetically and told her I'd be in to sit with Kizzy whenever I could get a ride into town.
"Yeah, you do that." Her tone turned snippy. "Seeing as how you're kind of like a member of the family now.
I pretended I didn't understand. "About the moonstone, Carmel. It's not like I wanted it. Kizzy made me take it and...
I heard a click. She'd hung up on me. I handed the phone back to Mrs. Burke. "Carmel's leaving after she talks to Philpott.
Christian Revelle and his sidekick, Baxter, flashed into my mind. Were they in cahoots with Carmel? Would I be able to keep Kizzy safe? Swear to God, the whole friggin' mess was making me crazy.
* * * *
The next day was Thursday, Big Ed day. I didn't want to go home after school. With Mrs. Burke's warning fresh in my mind, I hadn't mentioned the will to Fay. Mrs. Burke was right. Faye would have been all over Big Ed for information, and Shelly's job would be history. I wondered what Shelly knew about my mother's case. Faye was too trusting, and Big Ed was pretty vague about the details.
Note to self: work up a sneaky little plan to extract Faye's info from Shelly.
Instead of getting off the bus with Manny and Mercedes, I stayed on. Oh yeah, Faye knew I was going to Kizzy's house. She didn't know I'd be alone. I'd told her a tiny, little fib. I said I'd been in touch with Kizzy's daughter (true); she considered me a member of the family (kind of true); and that she wanted me to come to Kizzy's house and pick out some personal items to take to her mother in the hospital (definite lie.)
Actually, the part about going through Kizzy's personal items was not a lie. I had to find that cedar chest. But I fervently hoped Carmel would not be there. If things went according to her plan, Carmel would be gone. Not a sure thing, though. A nagging voice in the back of my mind warned, What if her alibi did not convince Deputy Philpott and he told her to stay in the area?
Our bus driver, Patti didn't want to let me off at Kizzy's.
"No way! After what happened to that poor woman, you're not spending the night alone in that creepy old house. What's wrong with you, girl?
So, I was forced to repeat the half-truth, half-lie to Patti, which made me feel twice as guilty. Not that I lie a lot. But sometimes it's better for certain people not to know the truth. Besides, I had an agenda. Since Kizzy was conscious long enough to mention the cedar chest, it had to be an important clue.
When I finished, Patti huffed her disapproval, but finally relented and opened the doors. When I scrambled down the stairs, she said, "You'd better be waiting right here tomorrow morning, G, or I'm coming in after you.
Before I could lose my nerve, I opened the gate, taking care not to look in the falcon's eye. However, I couldn't resist telling it, "I thought you were supposed to ward off evil. Well, you screwed up royally this time.
The yellow crime-scene tape was gone. No motorcycle in the driveway. No vehicle of any kind. I peeked in the window of the detached garage. Nothing but lawn furniture and a riding mower. I circled the house to make sure Teddy hadn't stashed the bike in the back yard. The image of Teddy waiting for me inside the house creeped me out so bad my legs started shaking.
Okay, Allie, suck it up. I climbed the broad stairs leading to the front door. The creaking of the stairs added to my sense of uneasiness. It felt strange, almost surreal, standing alone on the shadowy veranda, like I was violating some unwritten code. Intruding where I didn't belong. But I'd come this far. Steeling myself against rising panic, I reached up and slid my fingers across the top of the door frame until I found Kizzy's spare key.
With the bloody scene in the kitchen playing out in my mind, I stepped into the house. A heavy silence hung in the air. Without Kizzy's presence, it felt hollow and lifeless. But, someone, probably Kizzy's cleaning lady, had straightened up the living room. The furniture was back where it belonged. Fresh flowers on the mantle. I approached the kitchen on dragging feet, hoping the cleaning lady wasn't put off by blood and gore. With my eyes squeezed shut, I opened the door and sniffed. Lemon disinfectant. I opened one eye. The kitchen was spotless.
I heaved a huge sigh of relief, ready to begin my search for the cedar chest. But first, I went into every first-floor room and turned on all the lights. Then I turned on the television set in the living room.
Feeling a strong sense of purpose, I started downstairs in Kizzy's bedroom and the guest bedroom I used, even though I'd never seen a cedar chest in either place. Actually, I wasn't sure I'd recognize a cedar chest if I saw one. But, it had to be big. Right? Armed with a flashlight, I peeked under bed ruffles and pawed through closets. Nothing.
I wasn't anxious to go upstairs. I'd been up there a time or two with Kizzy, and didn't like it. The rooms resonated with sadness and broken dreams. Kizzy and her late husband bought the huge house years before, hoping to fill the rooms with a bunch of kids. But it didn't happen. They were in their forties when they adopted Carmel and wanted to adopt more. But Kizzy said raising Carmel was a "challenge." They'd changed their minds.
I raced up the stairs and dashed from room to room, turning on lights. The shades were pulled down tight in all four bedrooms. I was torn between my desire to open them and let the daylight in and my reluctance to draw attention to the fact that I was snooping around in Kizzy's house. Of course, the blaring TV and blazing lights downstairs might have been a tiny clue.
I took a deep breath and checked the bedrooms, trying to ignore the odor of mothballs and dark, shadowy recesses where the light didn't penetrate. Recesses large enough for a man the size of Teddy or Christian Revelle to hide. An involuntary shiver crawled up my spine as I opened the door to the linen closet. I pulled the string to turn on the light and found Kizzy's video library stacked neatly on the center shelf. Cool. I'd watch a movie later; get my mind off the spooky stuff.
The Sound of Music, Kizzy's favorite movie, was on top of the stack. We'd watched it together dozens of times. The last time she'd pulled it out of the box, I'd said, "If I have to watch Julie Andrews dancing across a meadow and singing, The hills are alive ... one more time, I'll go friggin' nuts!
She'd smiled and played it anyway. Maybe I was being punished, or maybe it was that karma thing I'm always hearing about, because, all at once, the Do, re, mi, song the Von Trapp
kids sing popped into my head and refused to leave. I switched off the light, closed the closet door and headed down the hall singing, "Do, a deer, a female deer, re, a drop of golden sun," at the top of my lungs.
I had one more room to check, the largest room on the second floor. At the end of the hall, it extended across the end of the house. I'd been putting it off because it was the creepiest room of all. It didn't have a bed and dresser to fill up space. Kizzy used it to store all kinds of stuff, stuff that had sheets covering it.
But the "do, re, mi" song was working its magic. I reached for the door knob screeching, "la, a note to follow sol." Surely that would scare away the evil doers. Testing my new-found courage, I flung open the door then yipped in surprise as the sheets draped over the furniture billowed and rippled in response. For one crazy moment, I thought the things underneath the sheets had come alive and were getting ready to suck me into an alternate universe, where I'd be stuck forever and never see Faye or Junior again.
After a few heart-stopping seconds I finally realized, C'est moi. (Mrs. Burke would be proud!) It was me. I had caused the air to rush into the room when I threw the door open. Feeling like an idiot, I flipped on the light.
Humming loudly, I scanned the room and decided to tackle the scariest object first. I marched over to the shrouded, man-shaped object lurking in the corner and peeked under the sheet to discover an ancient floor lamp with odd little pointy bulbs and no cord. I continued my search and found the following: a rusty exercise bike, a treadle sewing machine, a set of dusty encyclopedias and a baby crib. The crib made me feel sad. Was Kizzy hoping Carmel would give her grandchildren? Carmel and Teddy reproducing? Eewww!
I'd just lifted the lid on an old steamer trunk when I heard a sound that made the blood freeze in my veins. The creak of a floorboard. Like somebody was creeping up the stairs, trying not to be heard. Panic raced through my body like wildfire. I stopped humming and turned slowly toward the door, resisting the urge to jump in the closet and hide. It was then I heard the thump. Omigod, was it coming from the closet? The very closet I intended to hide in?
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