The River and the Roses (Veronica Barry Book 1)

by Sophia Martin

  “Yeah, so you keep telling me. But he pushed me in the river—”

  “It was an accident! How many times do we have to tell you? He was just going to scare you a little!”

  “And then you all left!”

  “We freaked out, okay? None of us is proud of it.”

  “Yeah? Well you all seem to still think it’s pretty funny,” Angie said. “You aren’t exactly subtle. Laughing at me in Ms. Jadeed’s class.”

  Antonia sighed, crossed her arms over her chest, and looked at the ceiling. The effect might have been more powerful if she wasn’t getting knocked in the side by passersby. “You’re okay, right? I mean, come on. You are such a cry baby. You’re fine. You didn’t even take a day off school.”

  Angie shook her head and started making her way down the stairs.

  “So are you going to go out there or what?” Antonia demanded.

  “What,” Angie said, and left her behind.

  ~~~

  Melanie was watching her intently as Veronica came back from the vision.

  “She didn’t go meet him,” Veronica said with a frown. “At least, she didn’t intend to.”

  “What did you see?” Melanie asked.

  “See?” echoed Khalilah. Felsen let out a huff.

  Veronica described the conversation she’d witnessed. The five of them stood without speaking. Khalilah’s eyebrows were raised and she looked from each person to the next, but no one clarified things for her. Finally, Daniel broke the silence.

  “Melanie, Veronica says Angela has basketball practice?”

  Melanie nodded. “Yeah. It goes until five thirty. I was here at five twenty. But the coach said Angie never even showed up.”

  “Does it start right away after school?” he asked.

  Melanie looked miserable. “I think so.”

  “No,” Khalilah interrupted. They all turned to her. “All the sports and the clubs, they start at least a half an hour after school lets out. It gives the kids a chance to go out and buy a snack or whatever, and the teachers can make it to meetings or parent conferences.”

  “Where do they go buy a snack?” Daniel asked.

  “Well, there’s a Seven Eleven on the corner,” Khalilah said.

  Veronica met Melanie’s eyes, and the next moment they were racing down the stairs. Daniel wasn’t far behind.

  Chapter 25

  Veronica didn’t make it all the way to the Seven Eleven before running out of breath and getting a stabbing stitch in her side. It was so frustrating. She doubled over, and Melanie kept going. Daniel caught up to Veronica, followed by Khalilah and Felsen.

  “What are you hoping to find?” Khalilah asked, sounding winded herself.

  Veronica was suddenly glad she was out of breath. She rested her hands above her knees and breathed, unable to answer Khalilah’s question. She didn’t know how to handle it. What could she possibly say? Well, you see, I’m psychic. I’m hoping I’ll pick up a candy bar and it’ll tell me where Angie is.

  “There’s a chance the clerk saw something,” Daniel said. He was still remarkably unwinded. It made Veronica hate him a little bit.

  She grimaced at Khalilah and pushed herself on. The best she could manage was a fast walk. When they reached the store Melanie was already interrogating the guy behind the counter.

  “I’m sorry, lady. I didn’t notice anything. You know how many kids come through here between two thirty and three?”

  Melanie turned away from him and gave Veronica a desperate look. Veronica nodded at her and started wandering around the store. She wasn’t getting anything, though. Not until she got to the ATM.

  There was a shadow there that didn’t belong to any object she could discern.

  “Do you see that?” she asked Daniel.

  “See what?” In the background she was aware that Khalilah and Felsen talked in heated whispers at the door. Perfection, she thought. There goes a potential friend. Well, at least Khalilah hadn’t overheard about the invisible shadow.

  “That shadow, there. By the ATM,” Veronica said to Daniel.

  “I don’t—I mean, the wall’s a little stained—”

  Veronica shook her head. It wasn’t on the wall. It was just… hanging in the air. By the ATM. She gazed at it. As she did, it seemed to get more solid. It started to take shape—the shape of a man. He was older, somewhat bent. Not a lot of hair. Wearing a red shirt with white stripes. Beige or gray pants. She couldn’t make out his eyes. They were sunken, in shadows on his face. He was looking in her direction, though.

  “Excuse me,” she breathed. He became more distinct. The pants were beige. His hands were gnarled and strong. But she still couldn’t see his eyes.

  “Who are you talking to?” Daniel whispered.

  “A ghost,” Veronica said. “Daniel, will you please make sure Khalilah and Felsen don’t come over here?” She approached the ATM and pretended to look through her purse for her wallet.

  “Excuse me, sir,” she whispered.

  See me, came his response.

  “Yep. Sure can,” she said under her breath.

  Took my card, said the ghost. Took my wallet.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Veronica said. She turned around. Daniel was standing a few feet away, blocking the aisle should Khalilah leave off questioning the clerk and come toward the ATM. “I wish I could help—”

  Wayne Porter.

  “What?”

  His name. Wayne. Porter.

  “Okay,” Veronica said. “I’ll tell my friend. He’s a police detective. But I need help, too. I hope you can help me.”

  The ghost said nothing, but he remained where he was and didn’t lose substance.

  “I’m looking for a girl. Her name is Angela Dukas, and she’s fifteen. There’s a bad person—a young man—I think he has her.”

  Out back. The ghost’s voice reverberated slightly.

  “What?” Veronica gasped.

  Back of the store.

  Then he did begin to fade. Veronica hurried over to Daniel.

  “Well?” he asked.

  “I think you should look into someone named Wayne Porter. He mugged an old man by that ATM.”

  “Did you say ‘an old man’? How old?”

  “I don’t know. Seventies?”

  “Did he tell you his own name? Robert Vandermeer, by chance?” He had one of those looks on his face, like the one he got when his uncle confirmed that his fish did, in fact, have Brooklynella. Well, he was a homicide detective. Chances were, if an old man was murdered by that ATM, he’d have heard about it.

  “No.” Veronica made her way around him.

  “Did you say Wayne Porter? As in Cole?” he said, writing in the notebook as he followed her out of the store.

  “Yes,” she said, hurrying to get round to the back before the others could catch up—Khalilah and Felsen for obvious reasons, and Melanie because if something had happened to Angie out back, Veronica wanted to find her first. As she rounded the corner of the store, she put her hand against the wall.

  ~~~

  She was walking by herself, sipping a soda, leaving the Seven Eleven behind. She headed toward school.

  “Psst,” came a voice from behind the store, where the dumpsters were.

  Angie stopped and looked around. What kind of cheeseball went “psst” at people anyway? She took a few more steps down the sidewalk.

  “Hey!”

  She stopped and looked round again. This time she saw him: Grant Slecterson, leaning against the wall of the store, as if he was hiding from view.

  “What are you doing?” she called to him, then dismissed him with a wave of her hand and started walking again, although her heart thudded against her ribs.

  “Angie, come here!” he hissed. “Wait!”

  She stopped walking, staring straight ahead. Was it true? Did he want to apologize? Why was he acting all weird, like he was some kind of spy?

  She groaned and turned around. “What do you want?” she demanded. />
  “Just come here,” he pleaded. “Please? I just want to talk to you. Just for a minute.”

  “Why?” she asked. “And why are you hiding?”

  “I kind of stole my step-dad’s car,” he said in a stage whisper. She looked past him and saw a blue car parked in one of the employee spots near the dumpsters. She took a few steps toward him and then stopped. “Come on!” he said.

  “Whatever it is you want to say, just say it,” Angie said. “I have basketball practice.”

  “I want to show you something,” Grant said. “It’s a surprise.”

  Angie wrapped her arms around herself. “I don’t like your surprises, Grant.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh god, Antonia told me you were being a baby about it.”

  “That sounds nothing like an apology,” Angie said, and turned to walk away.

  “Angie, come on,” Grant said, running over to her side. “I am sorry. I really am. I just feel bad that you still feel bad about it. You know? I didn’t mean to call you a baby.”

  Up close it was hard to ignore how gorgeous he was. His lips formed a slight pout and his eyes looked like deep pools. “It was sucky thing to do,” she managed. “I could have died.”

  “Yeah, but you didn’t,” Grant said. “I knew you’d be okay. I mean, I never meant to push you in at all—I was just trying to scare you. But do you think I’d have picked a place where the river was really dangerous to pull a prank like that? I knew when you fell you’d come out okay.”

  “Antonia says you guys all freaked and that’s why you left.”

  “Yeah,” he nodded. Curls of dark hair fell over his forehead, and she wanted to brush them aside. But he’d pushed her. She was still upset about it. “Listen, Angie, I’m going away,” he said.

  “What?”

  “Yeah, my step-dad. He’s sending me to that special school.”

  “What? Why?” she cried. The threat of the special school had been hanging over him since she ratted on him about what happened with Jennifer Clancy in the girls’ bathroom. No one would believe that he was just making out with her. Angie had wanted to find her and talk to her, get her to tell the truth, but Grant said no. He said she was just a confused little girl and it was his own fault for going after a freshman. But now look what was happening. “You have to get Jennifer to talk to your dad, at least. Make her tell him you didn’t hurt her.”

  “Yeah, but now after what happened to you—”

  “What? He knows about that? How?”

  “I kind of told him,” Grant said. “I felt so bad, you know, and I got home really late. He wanted to know where I’d been and it all slipped out. And after what happened to my mom—well, I told you he drinks—”

  “Oh, Grant, I’m sorry,” Angie said.

  “So anyway. I won’t get to see you again. I was just hoping I could catch you for just a few minutes. I wanted to tell you I was sorry and I also wanted to show you something.”

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Come on, it’s in the car.”

  She followed him. She was still reluctant. She didn’t really want to look in his car. She was, she had to admit, kind of glad he was leaving. She didn’t want him to have to go to some special school. But she didn’t want him to go to her school anymore. She felt bad, because he’d been through a lot recently—the thing with Jennifer, but especially his mom dying. Angie knew she wasn’t a very nice person to hold that prank against him. He’d gone too far, but he was all messed up because of what happened to his mom, and she knew that people lashed out sometimes when they were grieving. Still, she’d had enough of the way he confused her. It wasn’t fun. She never knew what to think anymore. So maybe if she just took a quick look at whatever it was… Maybe then he’d leave, and she could try to forget she ever met him. Was that really bad?

  “Is that it?” she asked as they came to the passenger side of his step-father’s turquoise blue 1970s Toyota. On the seat of the car lay a binder, like the kind she used in school to keep her assignments together.

  “No, look in the glove compartment,” Grant said, standing behind her.

  She opened the door and started to lean over the seat when she felt his arm go around her neck. She thought he was trying to hug her and she stiffened, but his hold tightened, and her vision blurred. She thrashed her arms, hitting her hand hard against the edge of the door, her other hand grabbing the binder and yanking it. It flew open. As she struggled for air, she caught a glimpse of the contents—not a binder, she realized, a photo album. Then everything went black.

  ~~~

  She came to in Daniel’s arms. He was saying something. Her name.

  “Veronica. Veronica, come on, wake up.”

  She blinked and squinted at him. They were behind the Seven Eleven. She rubbed her face with one hand and he pulled her upright. His arms felt comforting around her, and for a second she wished she could close her eyes again and bury her face in his shirt. Instead, she straightened and took a step away from him, but she ran into a group of old-fashioned tin trash cans lined up by the wall. It made a terrible racket.

  “Jesus,” she murmured.

  Melanie, Felsen and Khalilah stood a few feet away.

  “What happened?” Melanie asked. “Did you see something?”

  Veronica took a deep breath. She touched her throat. He hadn’t crushed it, at least not at the point where Angie passed out. She had to be careful what she said, or she’d send Melanie into a tailspin. “I think Grant has her.”

  “Oh,” Melanie said, covering her mouth with her hand.

  Veronica did her best to describe what she’d seen as neutrally as possible.

  “Oh god,” Melanie said.

  Veronica looked at Khalilah, who was watching with a neutral look on her face.

  “This must seem strange to you,” Veronica said.

  “Ms. Felsen told me that you claim to be a psychic,” Khalilah said. Her voice held no expression.

  “Yeah,” Veronica said. “It’s not a title I’m very comfortable with. But it’s the only one that fits.”

  “I have to say, I don’t know what you hope to gain from doing this,” Khalilah said. Felsen gazed at Veronica, her eyes narrow, a tiny smile playing on the corner of her mouth. “This woman is distraught and beside herself with worry—and your part in this is what? To tell her stories and help her find her daughter for some reward? Are you working with this boy?”

  Melanie’s eyes widened and she shook her head forcefully, but Veronica didn’t say anything. She could imagine how it looked from the outside, especially since Felsen had talked to her.

  “No,” Melanie said. “You’re so wrong. Veronica has been my friend for years—she’s more than a friend, she’s a part of my family. She is helping me find Angela.”

  “Ms. Dukas, I understand how desperate you must be to find your daughter, but you mustn’t believe such nonsense,” Felsen said acidly.

  “It isn’t nonsense!” Melanie cried. “She found her before!”

  “What? When?” Khalilah asked.

  “After the Valentine’s dance, Angie went missing—that—that boy took her to the American River—far from here, outside of Sacramento. Veronica led me to her.”

  Khalilah crossed her arms over her chest. “She helped you find where this Grant boy took her? That certainly doesn’t mean she wasn’t working with him already,” she said with sarcasm. “What is this elaborate con, Veronica?”

  Felsen shot Veronica a look of triumph.

  “I know you have every reason to doubt me,” Veronica said to Khalilah. “But the thing is, we don’t have time to just stand here debating things. We have to find Angie.”

  “You think I’m going to let you keep dragging this poor woman around while you pretend to chase this kid who took her daughter?” Khalilah said. “I’m calling the police.”

  “Ah,” Daniel said, holding up a finger. He produced his badge. “Already taken care of, Ms. …”

  “Jadeed,” Ve
ronica interrupted. “And it’s Doctor.”

  Khalilah stared at Daniel. She took a step toward him and inspected the badge. “Is this thing real?”

  “It’s a hundred percent authentic,” he assured her. “You can call the precinct. Give them my badge number.” He jerked his head toward Felsen. “While you’re at it, you could check on my partner here, too.”

  “What’s your part in all of this? Are you investigating her?” Khalilah asked Felsen as she crossed her arms again.

  “Actually, I am,” Felsen said.

  Daniel turned and looked at her.

  “I’m sorry, Daniel, but I could tell you were getting sucked in,” Felsen said. “I did some research. Three years ago Miss Barry was involved in a case of fraud.”

  Veronica sucked in her breath, and Melanie grabbed her forearm.

  “Fraud?” Daniel said.

  “That’s right. Her boyfriend went to jail for it, too. They questioned Miss Barry no less than six times, but she’s slippery. They didn’t have enough to stick her with anything.”

  Daniel turned his eyes on Veronica.

  She raised her chin. “I had nothing to do with it.”

  “But you sure knew a lot about it,” Felsen said. “You had all kinds of information no one could have had unless they were in on it.”

  “I’m psychic,” Veronica pointed out.

  Felsen’s eyes flashed, and in that moment, a piece of the puzzle clicked into place.

  “Oh my god,” Veronica said.

  “What?” Melanie said, her fingers digging into Veronica’s forearm.

  “You aren’t a skeptic at all, are you, Detective?” Veronica asked Felsen.

  Felsen took a step back, clenching her jaw.

  “You’ve been trying to discredit me this whole time—because you’re afraid I would see your secret.”

  “This is getting too pathetic,” Felsen said in a rush. “Daniel, are you just going to stand there and listen to this?”

  “How is Jimmy these days?” Veronica said.

  The air left Felsen as if she’d been punched. Her mouth opened, then shut. Khalilah and Melanie looked from Veronica to Felsen in confusion, but Daniel’s eyes narrowed.