Mourning Moon (A Guinan Jones Paranormal Mystery #2)

by Callista Foley

  Claire gaped. "You, a cheater?"

  I suppressed a wince. "I said I might be interested. I need to consult with someone who's done it. Have you?"

  Her cheeks reddened. "I'd never risk getting kicked out of here. Not for that, anyway. My great-grandfather went to this school. So did my grandfather and my father. Do you know that I'm my grandfather's first grandchild to attend Thomas Grier? My father sent my brothers to St. Albans, but I was determined to carry on the—"

  "Claire, will you tell me who bought a paper?"

  She cocked her head, bit her lip, and blew out a long breath. "Gabby Meyerson."

  Chapter Seventeen

  Luke's girlfriend, a cheater? Had his best friend been a cheater, too? I wondered who else violated Thomas Grier's honor code.

  All week, I made eye contact with as many people in the halls as I could, as though mere emotions would point the way. I'd resolved to stay out of it. Luke was busy with his new girlfriend, so he didn't pester me as often about the case. All I had to do was make it through the next week and a half, then I'd be on Christmas break for two long, glorious weeks.

  I helped my mother put up the Christmas tree and hang decorations all over the house. I pretended to be cheerful. I thought if I faked it, I'd eventually feel it. But the strangling dream stayed on my mind, and I counted down the days on the calendar.

  Around eight on Saturday morning, I was in bed online looking up term paper sites when my buzzing cell phone made me jump. I stared at the name on the screen. I answered. Before I had a chance to say hello, Sinder rambled about supplies.

  "It's called Pagan's Portal. Just get off at the U Street stop and walk two blocks. You can't miss it."

  "Sinder, what are you talking about?" I heard sounds of traffic and a horn on the other end. "You're out on bail, and you're shopping?"

  "I really need to talk to you. Meet me here?"

  Am I dreaming? "Are you all right? I mean, you've been charged with manslaughter, and—"

  "That's why I'm out shopping. Look, I'll explain when you get here."

  Too stunned to say no, I agreed. My parents' and my grandfather's bedroom doors were closed, so I dressed quietly. I hadn't driven my car since July, so I decided to skip the Metro. I muttered under my breath when I saw my father's car directly behind it. I turned in the direction of the Metro stop and changed my mind. I walked to Luke's house instead. I stood on his porch and texted him. Knocking on people's doors so early on a Saturday seemed rude. He replied that he was up, and I told him I was on his porch.

  The door opened, and he emerged, grinning. He wore jeans, a long-sleeved, white pullover, and brown loafers. He seemed equal parts amused and confused by my presence.

  "Did I catch you at a bad time?" I said. He appeared to be getting ready for something.

  "What's up?" I told him I was meeting Sinder on U Street and wanted him to come with me. He raised an eyebrow. "You need security?"

  "You said you wanted to share information." The truth was, I sort of missed him now that he spent so much time with Gabby.

  He scratched his jaw. "She's out on bail and decided to go shopping?"

  "Apparently."

  He went inside and re-emerged with his car keys. I asked if he needed to put the address in his GPS.

  "I know where it is."

  He found a place to park a few buildings down from Pagan's Portal. "She really is crazy," he said, locking the car and glancing around. The neighborhood was one of those "developing" areas. One side of the street was gentrified, and other side was gutted. Pagan's Portal was on the gutted side.

  I looked at Luke. "If you believe she killed your best friend, accidentally or otherwise, you wouldn't be here."

  He avoided catching my eye. "I wouldn't go that far. I'm just curious about what she has to say."

  We walked into the store, and a wiry black cat jumped off a counter and weaved its way through our legs.

  "Stereotype much?" Luke mumbled.

  The place defied my idea of what an occult shop would look like. It was surprisingly airy and well lit. Bookcases lined the walls on either side. The cashier's station was on the right. In the room's center sat small tables with bins filled candles and other knickknacks. I squinted at the price tag on a small silver mortal and pestle displayed on a nearby table.

  "Two hundred dollars?" Luke said over my shoulder. "I need to open up one of these places. "Easy money from bored housewives and suckers like Sinder."

  I looked around the place, hoping Sinder hadn't heard him, and caught the eye of a pale woman with long, red hair. She'd appeared from behind a gray curtain.

  "May I help you?"

  "We're looking for a friend of ours," I said. Her eyes, which matched the color of the curtain, were cat-like in shape. Luke made a creepy noise behind me. "She's here shopping."

  The woman raised a hand and point toward the back of the store. We found Sinder in a cramped room overflowing with candles that ranged from short to tall, skinny to fat, black to a greenish color I didn't know existed. She spun around at our approach. Her face dropped when she saw Luke.

  "What's he doing here?"

  "I thought he might be interested in what—"

  "I didn't kill him," she said, her eyes fixed on Luke.

  "He knows that," I said.

  "I didn't put peanuts in his food as a joke or to save him or anything like that. I'd never take that risk with his life."

  "Why did they charge you?" I said.

  Her lips trembled, but she recovered quickly. "Someone replaced my almond oil with peanut oil."

  My jaw dropped.

  "What do you mean, someone?" Luke said. He stepped around me and got in Sinder's face.

  She stood her ground. "Just what I said." She looked at me. "Now I'm sure someone murdered Desmond. They set me up."

  "And the cops don't believe you?"

  "That's right," she said. "Think about it. Would I bring peanuts anywhere near Desmond, especially for a stupid spell?"

  Luke crossed his arms but didn't respond.

  I calculated the implications. If she's telling the truth... "Okay," I said. "Let me think. If someone set you up, this person must have gained access to your house. How else would they tamper with your stuff?"

  She shook her head.

  "Is that what you wanted to tell me?" I said.

  She blinked several times. "The police destroyed my altar. I needed to replenish."

  "And you needed Jones to help you decide what color cauldron to get?"

  She pressed her lips together.

  I walked up to him and poked him in the ribs. "Will you please?"

  He shook his head and retreated to the entrance of the room.

  Sinder folded her arms across her chest and stared at the floor. She seemed more worried about what Luke thought than the charges she faced.

  "That detective wanted to know my life story. I confessed to pulling Rachel Colby's hair in fifth grade, stealing Greg Dehman's lunch in eighth grade, and buying a Private Paper."

  "A private paper?"

  "Private Paper. An online research paper service. "I told the detective about it the first time she questioned me."

  Sinder must be Detective Czarnecki's source for the term paper rumor. But if Sinder admitted buying one, it wasn't just a rumor.

  "She didn't even ask me about cheating, and I had to open my big mouth."

  "The police have ways of making a suspect open up," I said. "The point is to get you to tell them something that might be relevant. There's no such thing as too much information."

  "It wasn't only my cheating I admitted to," she said.

  "Desmond."

  She nodded. "He's the one who told me about the site. Last year, I had to do this paper for English class. I waited until the last minute and freaked. Desmond said the guy could turn papers around in twenty-four hours."

  "The guy?" Luke said. "You know who it is?"

  Sinder shook her head. "I just e-mailed and told him what
I needed. I totally blew my savings on it, but it was worth it at the time."

  "So you told the cops about the site and that Desmond bought a paper." I said this more to myself than to Sinder. Maybe Czarnecki thought I could get more information about it because I was a student.

  "Why does it matter at this point if Desmond cheated?" Luke said. He leaned against the doorway, his arms folded.

  "Because somebody set me up," Sinder said. "Maybe the term paper writer did it. And there's still this: I think Embry realized Desmond was after Ione."

  Luke laughed. "I know for a fact Drake was through with Hamilton. Old news."

  She shook her head. "How do you know?"

  Luke gave an exaggerated clearing of his throat. "Because I was his best friend."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "You told me that Desmond hadn't confided in you about buying a term paper. Maybe he didn't confide in you about Ione, either."

  He shook his head. "Take my word for it. He didn't want Ione."

  I stared at him. "Then there was somebody else?"

  "Could be."

  "Luke, this is a homicide investigation."

  "To be more precise," he said, inclining his head in Sinder's direction, "it's manslaughter, and the police arrested the killer."

  "The police are wrong," I said.

  "Jones, what do you know? Did you have a dream or something?"

  They both stared at me. I aimed my question at Sinder. "Was Desmond seeing someone?"

  "Not that I'm aware of," she said.

  "Luke?"

  He stared at me, then averted his eyes. "Hey, who knows?" I was about to respond when he looked at his watch. "I need to head out. I've got to pick up Gabby. We're spending the day together."

  My stomach tightened. "Why did you agree to come with me if you had other plans?"

  "I was curious," he said. "And you seemed so anxious for me to come with you. I didn't want to let you down." His voice had an edge of sarcasm.

  "I'll be fine," I said, hoping I sounded more nonchalant than I felt.

  "Suit yourself," he said, and walked off.

  Sinder pulled a piece of paper from her pocket. I followed her around the store as she dropped candles, bags of herbs, and tiny glass bottles into the carrier.

  "Are you buying supplies to perform a spell?"

  I thought she'd blush and deny it. But a relieved smile spread across of face.

  "You get it, don't you? I've written a protection spell."

  I kept my mouth shut.

  After a few minutes, she said, "He's trying to make you jealous."

  "Who?"

  "You think he really cares about Gabby?"

  I gave a humorless laugh. "I think he cares a lot about tall, willowy, gorgeous girls who dump their boyfriends for him."

  "Luke and I never meshed well," Sinder said. "But I've never known him to go for model types. His other girlfriends were average looking."

  I cleared my throat and reached over to stroke the cat, who reclined on a table. "None of my business. By the way, you told me Desmond had changed his ways, wanted to rectify his mistakes. Do you think he told anybody about his cheating?"

  "Besides me?" she said. "There's only one other person I know for sure he told, and that's Mr. Howard."

  So my instincts were right. "He told the counselor he cheated?"

  She nodded. "Not only that. He said he told Mr. Howard who wrote the papers."

  Chapter Eighteen

  Mr. Howard knows who the cheater is.

  Had the new and improved Desmond intended to report the paper writer? Maybe he only wanted to confess his own violation. But if the writer hadn't known this...

  Sinder convinced me to buy several candles to evoke various moods, but she couldn't convince me to participate in her protection spell. My efforts would be better served hunting for non-magical, real-world solutions.

  When I arrived home, I went straight to my room, took out my journal, recorded everything I could remember from the last few days, and promised myself I'd update it every day from now on. I was scribbling like mad when a knock sounded on my bedroom door.

  "Come in."

  Granddad poked his head through the opening. "Busy?"

  I shook my head and propped myself up against the pillows. He sat at the foot of my bed and sighed heavily. "The dream, Guinan."

  I swallowed and closed the journal. "You think it was about me?"

  White stubble dotted his chin. The bags under his eyes told me he did.

  "You fooled me," I said. "I thought you believed me when I told my parents it wasn't me."

  He raised his eyebrows, waiting.

  "I should have told you before. The girl in the dream had long fingernails." I held up my own. "I don't think they'll grow long in the next week."

  With a sigh of relief, his whole body relaxed.

  "I'm sorry I forgot to mention that important detail."

  He chuckled. "I shouldn't be as relieved as I am. Somebody's still going to die."

  I furrowed my brow. "Why didn't I dream about Desmond's death? Why did I dream about this one?"

  "I have a theory about that," he said, shifting on the bed. "I think some people are meant to be saved. Others, not."

  I gaped. "You mean I dream only of deaths I can stop?"

  Granddad nodded slowly. "That's the most logical explanation I can figure. I think Tilda kept dreaming of her death because it was meant to happen. She avoided driving as long as she could, so the dreams kept coming."

  "And I didn't dream of Kate's death because I couldn't stop it."

  "More than that," he said. "You weren't supposed to stop it."

  "Just my own."

  "Yes."

  I gulped. "That's why I didn't dream about Desmond. But I'm supposed to stop the other one."

  "I think you're supposed to try."

  ***

  Armed with new insight into my abilities, I tried to ignore the noise in my brain and focus on the signal. Why was Desmond meant to die and not the other person? What made one death inevitable and the other contingent on something I had to do? The weight of it all mentally exhausted me.

  Sunday night, while I lay in bed staring at the ceiling and trying to puzzle things out, my cell buzzed. An unfamiliar number with a familiar area code. South Carolina. Ridge Grove? I sat up, my heart thudding in my chest.

  "Hello?"

  "Hey, stranger."

  Zeke's voice made me tremble. I swallowed. "How are you?" I pictured his square jaw, his cleft chin, and his ruffled brown hair.

  "I hope I didn't wake you," he said. "I..." He faltered and sighed heavily. I waited. "I'm sorry about what my mother did to you, Guinan."

  I rubbed my forehead and shuddered from the memory of the three of us in the woods. "You don't have to apologize for her. It wasn't your fault."

  "It's just...I feel like I should have known sooner that something was wrong with her. Like I missed the signs."

  "You saved my life," I reminded him. "If it weren't for you—"

  "You'd be dead?" he said, with a humorless chuckle.

  Yes, I'd be dead. "How are the twins?"

  He told me what I already knew. They're a handful. They run you ragged. They are awesome.

  "They ask about Mom every now and then," he said in a low voice. "Dad and I tell them she's gone away for a while."

  One day, he and Tim would have to tell the whole truth. I didn't envy them. "So, I hear you're being homeschooled."

  He laughed. "Well, I am in theory. I go through the workbooks myself. I should take it seriously, but I'll probably end going for a GED."

  "You still want to be a cop?"

  "Yeah," he said. His voice sounded strained. "I still want to serve and protect." He cleared his throat. "I heard about what's happening up there."

  I sniffed. "Oh, um, that has nothing to do with me."

  "Really?" he said. "Because a guy you know died. Remember that conversation we had about why you dream about death?"

>   After Kate and Skeeter were killed, and I dreamed of my death, Zeke had speculated about what it all meant. He'd said there was something about the finality of death that demanded attention, and that I already knew the answers I sought.

  "You believe I know the truth," I said.

  "Stop avoiding it, Guinan. That blogger also seems to think you know."

  The Malcontent? I'd wondered if Zeke read it, but I'd dismissed the idea. "You know about that?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "Tamzen called the other day and said someone e-mailed a link."

  "Oh, um...right. She mentioned it."

  I took a deep breath, exhaled quietly, and pretended what happened between me and Zeke hadn't happened. "Don't worry about me and my issues."

  "Guinan, I will always worry about you. I don't want anything bad to happen to you ever again."

  "How is Tamzen?" I said quickly. "I hear she's babysitting."

  Zeke was silent for so long, I thought he'd hung up on me. I wanted to bang my head against the headboard. Instead, I balled my hands into fists.

  "She helps out. This has been really hard. I can't believe I'm still functioning. I mean, my mother is a murderer."

  The old crappy feelings returned. "I'm sorry. I wish I could say something to make it better."

  "Are you kidding?" he said. "I'm just glad you're speaking to me after what my mother did to you. I know it's not my fault, as you say. Things are just so screwed up."

  "No, they aren't. Not between us."

  He paused. "Really?"

  "Really."

  ***

  Zeke Hicks's face stayed with me. Everywhere I looked, I saw it. Now, walking down the hallways at school, I thought I saw him turn a corner or heard him call my name. It wasn't until I saw Gabby that I remembered my task.

  I intercepted and cornered her. Almost as tall as Luke, she peered down at me, her eyes widening in surprise. I skipped the small talk and asked about the paper she bought. Her nostrils flared.

  "Who told you about that?"

  "Doesn't matter," I said quickly. "I want to know who the person is."

  Her eyelids fluttered. "I don't know, and I don't care."