Fatal Secrets

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Fatal Secrets Page 11

by Richie Tankersley Cusick

She never saw the shadow beside her door. The huge thud on the glass rocked the car, and as she screamed, the black ski mask stared in at her, filling the window.

  She saw the door shake as the handle moved and held—

  My God, he’s trying to get in—

  She threw herself across the seat, falling out onto the slippery pavement. She tried to stand up, but she couldn’t get a foothold. Panic-stricken, she looked back over her shoulder.

  He was coming around the car after her.

  As Ryan scrambled up at last, she saw Jinx coming out of the building, and she screamed again as the bulky figure closed the distance behind her.

  “Jinx! Help me!”

  Ryan saw the pizza box fly into the air as Jinx hurtled toward her attacker. There was a hoarse cry and a thud as Jinx and the man went down together on the ground.

  “Run, Ryan!” Jinx yelled. “Get inside! Hurry—call the—”

  “Hey, buddy, will you wait a minute? Wait a minute!” The voice from the ski mask was muffled, yet instead of sounding dangerous, it only sounded annoyed. “Get off me, will you? What are you, crazy?”

  As Jinx gaped at him, his opponent groaned and gave Jinx a shove. Jinx promptly landed in the snow.

  “Don’t try anything,” he said angrily.

  “Hey, don’t worry”—the stranger held up his hands—“I’m just trying to get up!”

  And as the large man finally stumbled to his feet, he worked off the ski mask.

  Ryan had never seen him before, but he looked totally unthreatening and totally put out.

  “Hey, buddy, I appreciate you trying to defend your little girlfriend here—I really do—but I just want you to move your car, okay?”

  Jinx’s mouth fell open. “You … want—”

  “Your car.” The man sighed. “Look, I got deliveries to make. You got me blocked in!”

  As one, Ryan and Jinx turned their heads. Now they could see the pizza delivery truck idling in a little alleyway that Jinx’s car had barricaded.

  Ryan gulped. Jinx closed his eyes for a long moment, as if gathering every ounce of control.

  “I’m really sorry,” Jinx mumbled, starting forward, but the man shook his head and backed away.

  “Hey, pal, forget about it. As a matter of fact, I admire your nerve. I mean, look at you! Look at me!” He patted his wide stomach. “I coulda squashed you like a bug!”

  Again Jinx closed his eyes. Ryan could see him taking deep breaths. She hurried back to the car and got in, careful to look straight ahead as he finally slid in beside her.

  “Jinx—”

  “Don’t look at me, McCauley.”

  “I’m not. I just wanted—”

  “Don’t talk to me, either. You’ve ruined my day. You’ve ruined my weekend.”

  “But see? You were ready to help me, so that proves you must believe some of what I told you back at the house—”

  “You’re ruining my life.”

  “What about the … pizza?”

  In answer Jinx hit the accelerator and aimed his car for the take-out box upside down in the snow. She heard a soft crunch as they ran over it.

  “Can we still leave the film?” she asked timidly.

  “Only if I can leave you with it.”

  Jinx did stop at the drugstore but stayed silent all the way home. Ryan went straight to Phoebe’s room to lie down, and when she woke up, it was nearly eleven. She found Jinx asleep on the couch in the den, the TV blaring away, and she stood there a long time watching him. She was the one who had given him his nickname when they were little—Jinx instead of Jimmy—because, as she’d explained to an agreeable Phoebe, something bad always happened when he was around. Now, however, he didn’t look so little anymore, and Ryan was surprised at the changes she’d never noticed till now. The baby face had grown more angular and strong, somehow, and she could see the curve of muscles beneath his sleeves. No wonder girls are calling him, she thought with a small shock. She reached out and gently touched his hair, knowing he’d either kill her or die of embarrassment if he ever found out. When he stirred slightly, she made a quick retreat to the kitchen and was just sitting down to eat something when Phoebe came home, wearing a familiarly dreamy expression.

  “Don’t tell me,” Ryan greeted her. “You’re in love.”

  “To my deepest depths. To my innermost soul.” Phoebe pressed her hands to her heart. “This is it, Ryan. This is the big one.”

  “They’re all big ones,” Ryan reminded her. “And even bigger ones when they end.”

  “Oh, but this one won’t.” Phoebe draped her scarf over her shoulders and shimmied. “He can’t resist me.

  “Phoebe”—Ryan sighed—“no one can resist you.”

  “I guess I was born that way.”

  “I guess.”

  “So how’s your life since I saw you last?”

  Ryan stared at her. It seemed like months since she and Phoebe had talked, but now, with the chance right in front of her, Ryan didn’t even know where to begin.

  Phoebe clapped her hands. “Let’s go get cappuccinos at the Coffeehouse!”

  “Phoebe, I really don’t feel like—”

  “It’s only eight blocks—we can walk—”

  “No, I’m exhausted. All day I’ve felt like I’m catching a bad cold.”

  “We have to walk. When Dad saw the scratches on the van, he blew a fuse. I can’t drive for a week. And I can’t tell him Charles did it, ’cause he said no one could drive it but me.”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “’Cause I wanted Michael to bring me home. Where’s Jinx?”

  “Asleep.”

  “Great. Then we’ll take his car.”

  “Phoebe—”

  “Dad said I couldn’t drive my car—he didn’t say anything about Jinx’s.”

  “Jinx will kill you.”

  “He won’t know! By the time he wakes up, we’ll be gone!”

  “We still have to come back sometime.”

  “I’ll tell him you drove!”

  Ryan groaned and felt herself being pulled out the door. “That’s probably the worst thing you could tell him tonight.”

  The Coffeehouse was noisy and crowded, but they managed to find a booth in back. After ordering, Phoebe proceeded to tell Ryan all about her day with Michael Kilmer, including the three future dates they’d scheduled before he brought her home tonight. She didn’t seem to notice that Ryan wasn’t listening.

  “So I’m going to the dance!” she finished triumphantly. “And you are, too.”

  “I am?” The stifling heat was making it hard for Ryan to concentrate. Jinx is right … everything is just a coincidence … but what about the necklace …?

  “With Charles Eastman.”

  “What!” Coffee spewed out of Ryan’s mouth, and Phoebe hurriedly grabbed a napkin and dabbed at Ryan’s chin. “Have you totally lost your—”

  “I had a feeling you’d take it like this,” Phoebe fussed, creasing her napkin primly, folding her arms on the tabletop.

  “I don’t even want to discuss this,” Ryan said.

  “Maybe my timing is all wrong—”

  “Phoebe, you have no timing.”

  “Oh, Ryan, please—just ask him?”

  “No.”

  “I want us to go to the dance together. We’d have such a wonderful time!”

  “No.”

  “I know he’d take you if you asked him! Your mom thinks so, too—”

  “My mom? You asked my mom?”

  “Well, when Michael and I stopped at your house to pick up the van, I just mentioned—”

  “Oh, God, Phoebe, you didn’t mention it to Charles—”

  “Not exactly. But your mom thinks it’d be good for you to go. I know Charles would think so, too.”

  “Phoebe, you make me sound like a charity case! Don’t you understand? I just can’t think about the dance at this particular time of my life.” I’m too busy thinking about coincidences.…r />
  “Oh, Ryan, you’re just shy. I bet deep down you’re just the tiniest bit interested in him—”

  “No, I’m not.”

  “Well, will you at least think about it?”

  “No. Phoebe, leave me alone. I don’t want to talk about the dance or Charles Eastman anymore.”

  “Oh, Ryan, you’re breaking my heart.” Phoebe looked miserably down at the table. “I was counting on us going together. You’re really and truly breaking my heart—it’s our absolute last New Year’s dance together.…”

  “Phoebe, you’ll be having such a fantastic time with Michael, you won’t even miss me.”

  “Yes, I will.”

  “No, you won’t. I promise you won’t.”

  “Yes, I will. Pleeeeeeease?”

  “No! And that’s final!” Thank God I didn’t tell her—she’d never take me seriously—

  “Well, then, we might as well just go home, I’m so sad now.” Phoebe gave Ryan her most pitiful look. “I don’t know what you’re in such a bad mood about anyway.”

  They walked back to the car without talking. The streets were empty, except for one Santa Claus standing on a corner, slowly ringing a bell.

  “Isn’t it a little late for him to be out?” Phoebe nudged Ryan, laughing, then suddenly stopped and let out a groan.

  “Oh, my God! Jinx’ll have a stroke!”

  Frowning, Ryan knelt and examined the front tire. “It looks like someone cut it. Look—all the tires are slashed.”

  “Dammit, who would do such a mean thing! And all the stores are closed!”

  Ryan looked down the street and shivered. The Santa Claus had disappeared. “I don’t have my key to the toy shop with me, either. Come on, we can call from the Coffeehouse.”

  Returning to the restaurant, the girls found someone already using the phone, and as the minutes dragged by, Phoebe grew impatient.

  “I could have been to the gas station and back again by now,” she fretted. “Look, they’re getting ready to close—”

  “Let’s just go, then.”

  “No—I’ll go. It’s my fault we’re in this mess. You stay here where it’s warm and wait for me.”

  “Phoebe, don’t be silly, I’m not letting you go alone.”

  “You’re the one who’s getting sick.” Phoebe shook her finger under Ryan’s runny nose. “You stay here and get us coffee to go, and I’ll try to find another phone.”

  “I think the drugstore has a payphone—try there.”

  “It’s probably quicker if I just walk to the station myself,” Phoebe grumbled, digging in her purse. “You got change?”

  “What is it with your family? I’m always handing out money.”

  “I’ll be back in a second. You stay warm. If they run you out, just stand under the awning—at least you won’t feel the wind.”

  “Yes, Mother.” Ryan watched Phoebe disappear around the corner, then she ordered their drinks and waited.

  She waited a long time.

  As the restaurant began to empty, Ryan wondered what was taking Phoebe so long. She could feel the coffee getting cold in her sack. She drank one, but when Phoebe still didn’t reappear, she drank the other. I bet that dumb phone wasn’t working.… I bet she had to walk to the station after all.

  Frowning, Ryan stepped outside and looked up the street. It was starting to snow again, and she tried to ignore the growing fear in her heart. She’s stopped to talk to someone … typical Phoebe, she’s forgotten all about me and Jinx’s car.…

  Thrusting her hands into her pockets, Ryan started up the street, averting her eyes from the alleyways she had to pass. She tried to imagine Phoebe safe in the gas station. She glanced up through a flitter of snow and stopped and stared.

  At first she thought she’d imagined it, the Santa Claus standing there ahead of her on the corner. He looked like the one they’d seen near the car—huge and jolly in his fur-trimmed suit—and Christmas lights twinkling from a nearby window sparkled off his heavy black boots. He was stamping his feet as if he was cold, his curly white beard flowing down over his chest.

  He was ringing a bell.

  Ryan stood there, strangely mesmerized by the magical Santa in the dead of night.

  And then she began walking.

  He was ringing the bell in time to her footsteps.

  She walked faster.

  The bell went faster, too, echoing each stab of fear in her heart.

  Phoebe … I’ve got to find Phoebe.…

  Through the softly sprinkling snow Ryan saw Santa standing there on the corner—just standing there—like one of Mr. Partini’s mechanical dolls, arm up, arm down, ringing, ringing, just standing there, waiting for her to pass—

  She swung wide out into the street, rushing away from him up the sidewalk—

  Behind her she heard the bell clang as it fell into the snow.

  She heard the footsteps coming after her.

  “Help, somebody! Please help me!”

  The buildings loomed lifelessly around her. As she turned the next corner, she cast a wild glance over her shoulder.

  He was plodding through the snow, his head down, unhurried. Ryan could see his boots lifting in long, crushing strides. Without warning she suddenly slipped and fell, and the footsteps began to run.

  Oh, no … oh, God … As Ryan struggled to her hands and knees, her eyes made a terrified sweep of the street—

  But now it was empty.

  Chapter 14

  Ryan!” a voice shouted. “Ryan—what are you doing!”

  As Ryan got to her feet, dazed, she saw the tow truck coming toward her with Phoebe hanging out one window.

  “Ryan, I told you to wait for me! What happened?”

  Ryan stepped back as the truck pulled up beside her, as Mr. Stone leaned out the other side with a grin.

  “You must really like being out in the cold, little lady,” he teased.

  Phoebe opened her door impatiently. “For heaven’s sake, Ryan, get in here. What were you doing down on all fours in the snow?”

  “I fell,” Ryan mumbled. “Santa Claus.”

  “No, it’s Phoebe.” Phoebe regarded her friend apprehensively. “Oh, Mr. Stone, I think she’s delirious!”

  “Stop it, Phoebe, I know who you are, I’m not delirious,” Ryan said sharply. “Didn’t you see him? He was chasing me—”

  “Santa Claus was chasing you?”

  “You must have seen him—”

  “We didn’t see anyone,” Mr. Stone said. “Lucky for you I came along when I did. Come on—hop in.”

  “Did you get mugged?” Phoebe asked worriedly, and Mr. Stone looked disgusted.

  “You mean, now they’re even dressing up like Santa Claus? What if some little kids had seen that—that’s terrible!”

  “Should we call the police?” Phoebe asked.

  “I doubt they’d do anything about it.” Mr. Stone sighed. “That mugger’s long gone by now.”

  “But it wasn’t a mugger,” Ryan protested. “Look—I’ve still got my purse.”

  “Well, I musta scared him off.” Mr. Stone motioned her to close the door. “You girls better stay at the station, and I’ll go take a look at that car of yours.”

  The girls drank hot chocolate while they waited for Mr. Stone to get back. Ryan was trying to pay attention to the night clerk’s fourth boring story when she felt Phoebe nudge her and saw Winchester come through the door. He looked tired, Ryan thought, and he glanced away as he recognized her.

  “You need some help?” he asked softly, but it was Phoebe he spoke to, not Ryan.

  Phoebe promptly bestowed him a dimpled smile. “Well, actually, we have four flat tires, but your father went to fix them.” When he nodded and started to walk away, she nudged Ryan again and added, “He said we could stay here and wait.”

  “Sure. Make yourself comfortable.”

  “I’m Phoebe.” Phoebe held out her hand, and after an awkward pause Winchester shook it. “You probably know my brother, J
inx? And this is my friend Ryan.”

  His eyes swept over Ryan but didn’t stop. “We’ve met.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” Phoebe’s smile widened. “You went out with Marissa, didn’t you?”

  Oh, Phoebe, stop. Ryan looked down at the floor, at Winchester’s black workboots dripping over the old linoleum. Why did he lie to me about the phone …?

  “My friend Ryan got mugged,” Phoebe said proudly.

  “Phoebe!” Ryan hissed.

  “Right down the street. Your father probably saved her life.”

  “Did he?” At last Winchester’s eyes settled on Ryan’s face. Ryan tried to step on Phoebe’s toe, but Phoebe slyly moved her foot away.

  “Yes, it was terrible. Somebody chased her, but then your father came. Oh, look, there he is now.” Phoebe waved out the window as the tow truck pulled in, dragging Jinx’s car behind. “So I guess this means I’ll have to leave the car, right? Could you keep this kind of quiet? Till I think of something to tell my brother?”

  Before Winchester could answer, Mr. Stone came in, and Phoebe went over to talk to him, leaving Ryan standing there.

  Winchester poured some coffee … raised the cup to his lips, squinting through the steam. “So … you’re okay.”

  Ryan nodded. Behind her Mr. Stone told Winchester to take the girls home. Ryan stepped forward and blocked his way.

  “You lied about the phone,” she said quietly. She watched his face, and the surprise it registered. “Your father said it was working.”

  “Not when I tried it.” He frowned and lowered his eyes. “Maybe one of the kids did it … took it off upstairs, and I didn’t know.”

  He looked down for a long time. She could see him swallowing … she could see a muscle clench in his jaw.

  “I’m sorry if you think I lied to you,” he whispered. “But I’m not sorry you stayed.”

  This time his eyes met hers, holding them, and something fluttered in her chest as he took a step toward her.

  “Winchester,” Mr. Stone said, “come on now, and get these ladies home—we got work to do.”

  The three of them rode to Phoebe’s in a tow truck, Ryan trapped in the middle. There wasn’t much room in the front seat, and again she was all too aware of Winchester’s body against hers. She could feel his eyes upon her as she got out, and once inside the house she felt curiously weak.

 

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