I pulled him inside the door, down the hall and into the kitchen. He sat at the table like a zombie; his eyes stared off into space. I couldn’t tell if it was shock, or some sort of vision, or a combination. Gently, I pried the jacket from his arms and set it on the table. When I looked at my hand, rose-colored liquid darkened the lines on my palm.
Blood.
“Haven! What else did you find? Are you hurt?”
He blinked, his gaze focused on my face. “Hurt?”
I held out my hand.
“It’s on the jacket. I noticed when I picked it up.” His words were dull. “I was supposed to go see her tomorrow. I didn’t suspect a thing.”
“You aren’t responsible for this.” I rinsed off my hands.
“I’m a freaking psychic. What good is having the ability to see the future when you either can’t do a damn thing about it, or you don’t see the one thing that would help someone you love?”
There was no way to answer him. I kept hold of his hand and pulled one of the other kitchen chairs nearer. “You’re asking the girl who talks to the dead, remember? I don’t have an answer. Remember, you didn’t fail tonight.” I cupped his cheek in my hand, wiping at some of the rain dripping from his scalp. “You rescued me. We’ll find your mom. But right now, it’s dark and wet, and getting yourself sick won’t help anyone. Maybe we should try driving around town.”
Some of the tension left his face. “No. The cops are driving the streets. There’s also an alert going across the late night news. They told me to go home, to make sure she doesn’t come there. But I know she won’t.”
“How?”
Finally he looked at me, and I almost wished he hadn’t. “Because when they went in her room, there was a picture of this house, from when it was the Home, sitting on the ottoman.”
Haven stayed the night at the house with us, mainly because I wouldn’t let him out of my sight. I knew if I sent him home, he wouldn’t stay there. He’d be out again in the dark and end up hurt, lost, or worse.
Monday morning we were up early, out to search around the house before school started. The sky was overcast and barely lighter than the previous day. After an hour, we still didn’t have anything to find. Mom appeared just as we came out of the forest, a serene, unsurprised look on her face.
“I’m so sorry to hear about your poor mother, Haven.”
He stood back, watching her with a guarded expression. My hand crept to his. She came down the porch steps, her car keys swinging in her fingers.
“Has there been any sign of her at all?”
Her tone mocked us, and I clenched my hands into fists. The urge to smack her almost overwhelmed me.
“There will be. She can’t have gotten far,” Haven said in a flat, emotionless voice.
“Don’t worry. I’m sure they’ll find her eventually. Like you said, how far could she really have gotten, after all?” Her head tilted and she shrugged. “In any case, it looks like more rain soon. Time for school.”
After a brief pause, Grant trudged forward and I turned to Haven. “I know you won’t, but please go home and rest a while.”
He nodded once, but didn’t meet my gaze. I shook a finger at him.
“I mean it! Don’t make me kick your butt.”
A tiny quirk of his lips cheered me.
“I’ll think about it.”
“It’s better than nothing I guess.”
Mom called my name.
“You better go. I’ll see you later, okay?” He attempted a smile and failed.
“I’d stay, but she’s taken off the whole week. No chance of skipping out this time. But call or text if you need me and I’ll do my best.”
He squeezed my hand, pressed a kiss to my knuckles, and released me. “You better get going. I’ll text you and I’ll go home. Promise.”
As I headed for the car, I wondered whether Mom’s plan to stay home had anything to do with this. It seemed too convenient.
“Wait, Claire.” Haven jogged up to me and grabbed my hand. “Here. I couldn’t sleep last night, so I contacted Cain. He’s waiting for you to call this number and set up a time to meet with him.”
I wrapped my fingers around the slip of paper he pressed into them and nodded. “I’ll call later today.”
He nodded, then watched as I headed for the car. Our book bags were already loaded into the back seat. I slid in and tried not to notice the pleased expression on Mom’s face. Or the way her eyes scanned the surroundings the whole way to school.
She didn’t know where Haven’s mom was either. That gave me hope.
***
Grant slid his lunch tray next to me and took a seat. He played with his food, mumbling answers to my questions. Judging from the worried glances he kept sending my way, something big was up.
With a sigh, I put down my sandwich. “Quit poking at your food and tell me.”
“You’re going to get mad. I’m mad.”
“Grant. Just tell me.”
He shook his head, hunching forward. “You remember that girl who disappeared?”
“Melanie, right? Why?”
“There are some details I found out. Maybe they aren’t important, but…” His voice trailed off and he stared into his plate.
“Go on.” Apprehension tied my stomach in knots. I shoved my lunch back in the bag, my appetite gone.
“She disappeared at a Halloween party. The annual bash Bryan’s family hosts. He’s got a huge house and yard. He disappeared during the party for a good hour. Apparently no one has ever made the connection that Bryan and Haven were gone. They all focused on Haven.”
His jaw clenched in anger. “We asked him for help. Can you believe that?”
“You don’t know what happened that night. As much as I dislike it, we have to give Bryan the benefit of the doubt.”
Grant glared at me.
“Just because we’re Team Haven doesn’t mean Bryan is a murderer.”
Grant snorted. “Yeah, well, my bet’s still on him. I’m going to go get a bag of chips.”
He walked off, and two seconds later a shadow cut across the table, making my skin crawl.
“Why the gloomy face?” Bryan dropped into the seat next to me.
I scanned my eyes across the cafeteria searching for Grant. He stood in the lunch line, talking to Carlos and Jeremy. They took two more steps and disappeared into the register area, out of view.
“Go away, Bryan. We have nothing to talk about.”
“We could talk about Friday.”
I crossed my arms. “Not unless you’re going to tell me you’re going to the party your parents are throwing and give up on this ridiculous ghost hunt idea.”
“The only thing stupid about it is your attitude.” Bryan snapped. His good mood evaporated.
“That’s debatable.” I snorted and picked up my sandwich. “Why aren’t you helping to host this party? From what I hear around school it’s the place to be.”
“I’m hoping to make an appearance before the festivities start. Maybe when all this is over, you and I can bring them over to your house and finish the party there. Come on. What do you think, Claire? After we get all the boogie out of it, we can put some more back in?”
His arm slid around my shoulders, and I dropped the chips I had in my hand to the table. “I know,” I stated quietly, “you are not touching me and pretending we are buddies.”
“I thought we were,” he said.
I cut my eyes at him, and I knew my anger showed. Slowly he drew his arm away.
“Or maybe not.”
“Not until you realize how stupid this whole thing is.” I crumpled my trash in one fist. “Not to mention how dumb the idea of moving the party there is. You can forget about that. And as for the investigation—I’ll find a way to make you understand how dangerous it could be.”
The paper with Cain’s number suddenly seemed like a lead weight in my pocket. “I’ll be back.�
�
Without waiting for a reply, I got up, grabbed my lunch stuff and as I passed the trash can I dumped it in, then slid out of the lunch room doors and the few feet into the girls bathroom next door. I went into one of the stalls and pulled my cell phone and the number from my pocket.
After I typed in the number, I waited, butterflies in my stomach. This had to work.
“Hello?”
I almost jumped when the deep voice barked into the phone. “Hi. This is Claire Mallory. I was looking for Cain.”
“Haven said you’d call.”
“Did he tell you what I wanted?”
“Yes, and I’m very interested in what you have to say. Sometimes my wife jumps in before she has all the facts.”
I leaned against the cool cinderblock wall. “Great. When and where?”
“Tomorrow right after school lets out. I’ll wait for you at the cafe in Hanover.”
“I don’t have a car. Is there any way you can get to the coffee shop in the shopping center here?” It was near the school, so I could walk there. The walk home would be long, but it would be worth it to talk sense into someone.
“Sure. I think I can do that.”
I thanked him and ended the call. With a few more strokes of my fingers, I asked Grant to meet me outside the cafeteria. If Bryan was still there, he probably needed to leave before either of them said something they’d regret.
Less than five minutes later, he appeared with both our bags. “Thank you. I thought I’d have to kill him.”
“Glad I could prevent any bloodshed.”
He slung his bag over his shoulder. “Any word from Haven?”
I shook my head. “Nothing. I’ve been checking my phone all day. I don’t want to text if he’s finally fallen asleep.”
I picked up my book bag and we headed down the hallway. There was only a minute until the bell.
“Just text him. We both know he’s not sleeping.”
I didn’t need much encouragement. I typed in a quick message, and before I could even put the phone away, I had a response.
“Nothing’s changed. No word from anyone,” I said. “But I’m sure it will be okay.” I tried to sound upbeat, but the whole time I saw the jacket and the blood-tinged rainwater staining my hands.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I didn’t see Haven again before the next day of school. Mom wasn’t home all night, leaving us a note about how she went out to help with the search for Haven’s mother. A text to Haven warned him of the possibility.
I called the house the next morning after I couldn’t get him on his cell phone. His grandmother answered.
“Hello Mrs. Elliot. I wanted to know if I needed to get Haven’s work from his teachers. I’d be happy to bring it over so he won’t get behind.”
“That won’t be necessary.” Her words were short and clipped. “I’ve insisted he attend school, but he won’t leave the house. Unbelievable behavior, if you ask me. He’s spent too much time in the company of disobedience.”
She obviously meant me.
“I will collect it from school later today for him. And I would appreciate it if you would not call or text him. His cellphone privileges have been restricted, and we have enough difficulties. Goodbye.”
The line went dead and I replaced the phone carefully. My heart ached for Haven. His grandmother was not a pleasant woman when happy. When unhappy…I would have to find a way to talk to him later. But for now, Mom waited outside.
Grant was already on the porch. As I approached, I marveled at how much she’d changed. Her facial features didn’t even seem the same anymore. They were more masculine, and crueler.
Behind me, the back room door, which I had found locked again in recent weeks, clicked and groaned as it opened. A short shadow with a distinctly feminine shape stood next to it and pointed. I froze, then realized that this was different. It lacked the hostility of the others. My brow furrowed and I exhaled hard. No cold spot either. This wasn’t like the others. I took two steps forward, reaching out with my mind. A name hovered just out of reach. It was so familiar…
“Claire!” Mom’s voice was a harsh bellow. The shadow fled, and the door closed again. “It’s time to leave.”
A frown gathered on my brow, but I went to the car. Mom fidgeted, her words brusque. Her eyes barely paid attention to the road on the way to school. Haven’s mother, if she was smart, would stay away from the house.
In my heart, I knew that wasn’t her plan. But I didn’t know why.
***
“Why are we walking all over creation instead of taking the bus?” Grant asked. “You don’t even like coffee.”
“I’m meeting the guy in charge of Spirit Searchers.”
“Really? He agreed to meet with you? Do you think he’ll listen?”
I ran a hand through my hair. “No, but Haven seems to think I should let them come if I really want help. They’re kind of it, apparently, when it comes to supernatural stuff around here.”
Grant shrugged. “Well, we definitely need help.”
“I don’t think anyone argues that.” I sighed. “I’d rather not do anything at Halloween, but we’re out of time. Something is going to happen, and it will be Friday night.”
“I kind of wish I could be at the party,” Grant sighed. “Party disasters will involve someone puking in the sink or dancing on the tables in their underwear. Ours has more potential for death and dismemberment.”
“Well,” I said. “Depending on their dance moves, it’s debatable.”
He laughed. “You must have seen Carlos dance, then.”
With a mock shudder, I nodded. “For the horrible skit in English. There’s true horror.”
Twenty minutes later, we stopped outside the tinted windows of the coffee shop. “Okay. Am I supposed to pretend like I don’t know you? Don some dark glasses? Leave when you give me the high sign and start running?”
“It’s not espionage, Grant.”
He smiled, but it didn’t touch his eyes. “I have the feeling only bad is going to come of this. I mean, why are you meeting him so far away from the house? You couldn’t do this over the phone?”
“It’s complicated. I want to meet him in person to let him know how serious I am. Otherwise, he might take me for the paranoid teenager Bryan and Laura are making me out to be.”
Grant sighed. “Lead the way, then.”
We went inside, and it took a matter of seconds before Cain’s huge frame stood and waved us over to a table in the corner. I handed Grant a ten and winked. “Your hush money. And get me a drink with lots of chocolate, while you’re at it.”
He gave me a thumbs up and headed for the line.
“I really appreciate you meeting me.” I took the chair he motioned to.
“Not a problem. To be honest, I’m glad you called. Laura’s a little too excited about this one, and I keep getting mixed information from the different people I’ve talked to. Your house is unique case.”
“It’s a time bomb.” I crossed my arms on the table. “Most ghosts don’t want humans there. They want help, and they want to leave. But this bunch doesn’t. They like having people in. Whenever we’re there, I get the impression they…” I struggled to find the words. “They want people to stay with them. To share in whatever happened to them.”
“Not a comfortable feeling.” Cain sipped at a large coffee. “But not a great reason to insist something’s wrong either.”
“They aren’t passive things that make it cold or move some objects. My mom has been possessed by one of them. Her face doesn’t even look the same anymore.”
Cain straightened in his seat, and his gaze narrowed. “That’s impossible.”
He said the words, but they lacked conviction.
“Whether you believe it or not, it’s true.”
“What else?”
Grant sat down next to us, and Cain shot him a curious glance. He relaxed into the seat and
blew across the top of his coffee. “Don’t worry about me. I’m just here for the coffee.”
Cain sighed.
“I can’t describe it better than the spirits have been able to touch us, possess my brother for a time, and my mother completely. They used objects—gifts, my mother called them—to connect with the two of them. I think it has to do with the past. And I think somehow.” I took a deep breath, aware this was thin ice. “Bryan is involved.”
“How do you mean, ‘involved?’”
What could I say to express the weird way Bryan seemed connected to everything? “I believe it has a lot to do with the family history. But I also think there’s something else going on. Did you watch him when you were there? The way he looks around the house is like he’s terrified by it and ecstatic at the same time. He’s hiding a secret and the spirits in the house like him for it.”
“That’s not proof of guilt. Bryan is very enthusiastic. It’s natural for that to be mixed with fear in our field. Especially if you’ve told him the things you’ve told me.”
“So you don’t believe me?”
Cain shifted and shook his head. “Not exactly what I said.”
“That’s what you mean.” I curled my hands around my coffee cup.
“Listen, there are tons of explanations for the things going on. Do I believe you have ghosts? Absolutely. I’m not so certain you aren’t making them worse, though, in your head.”
Anger churned in my gut. “Bryan told you I’m psychic, right? I assume he’s also told you I’m overreacting?”
Cain colored and looked away.
“I’m not crazy, or imagining things. I speak to the dead. You want proof? Give me your hand.”
Cain didn’t move, then slowly stretched out one arm. I grabbed his hand, my eyes focusing inward rather than out. A small spirit flickered behind his right shoulder, jumping forward when it realized I could see. A lined, kind face formed.
“Your mother, Eileen, wants you to know she didn’t intend for things to happen like they did. Your uncle has the will. It’s in her old family bible.” I smiled. “She has some choice words for him I’m not going to repeat. Your father’s ring is inside a jewelry box you already have. Bottom drawer has a false panel. She’s very proud of you, and likes to watch over you. She’ll be around if you need her.”
A Whispered Darkness Page 19
