Wake (Watersong Novels)

by Amanda Hocking

  In the end, Gemma had begun to cry. Brian had apologized then, but Gemma just went up to her room. She spent the whole night up there. Harper had tried to talk to her a couple of times, but Gemma just sent her away.

  Harper had hoped to talk to her this morning, but Gemma had already left for swim practice by the time she got up. On the upside, Brian had remembered to take his lunch to work with him.

  Although that was starting to seem like less of a positive now that Harper was sitting at the front desk of the library without much to do. She absently leafed through Judy Blume’s Forever.

  She’d read it before, but that was a couple years ago, so she wanted to refresh herself with the text. It was part of their summer reading program for middle schoolers, and on Mondays Harper met with the ten or so kids in the book club to talk about their weekly reading.

  “Did you know that the principal of the high school has had Oprah Winfrey’s biography out for the past six weeks?” Marcy asked, clicking on the computer next to Harper.

  “Nope, I didn’t know that,” Harper replied.

  Since it was slow, Marcy was going through the computer to search for people who had overdue books, then calling to remind them. Marcy had actually volunteered to do it. Even though she hated interacting with people, she loved calling to tell them that they’d done something wrong.

  “That seems weird, doesn’t it?” Marcy peered at Harper from behind a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses. Not that she needed corrective lenses—she just thought they made her look academic, so she wore them sometimes.

  “I don’t know. I heard it’s a really good book.”

  “It’s like I always say—you can tell a lot about a person by the books they check out.”

  “You just like to snoop on people,” Harper corrected her.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing. It’s always good to know what your neighbors are up to. Just ask Poland about that after World War Two.”

  “There’s never a good reason to invade somebody’s—”

  “Whoa, Harper, isn’t that the kid you know?” Marcy interrupted her and pointed to the computer screen.

  “Lots of people I know check out books,” Harper said without looking up from the Judy Blume book. “It’s not all that surprising.”

  “No, no, I got bored with that so I was just checking out the Capri Daily Herald’s Web site to leave angry, anonymous comments on the op-ed piece. But I found this instead.” Marcy turned the screen so it faced Harper more.

  Harper looked up to see the headline “Local Boy Missing.” Below it was a picture of Luke Benfield that Harper recognized as his senior picture from her yearbook. He’d tried to slick back his red curls, but they still stuck out at the sides.

  “He’s missing?” Harper asked and scooted her chair closer to Marcy’s.

  In smaller letters the subhead read “Fourth Boy Missing in Two Months.” The article went on to give a few basic facts about Luke—that he was an honor-roll student and Stanford-bound in the fall.

  The rest of the story told what little they knew about what had happened. Luke had gone to the picnic on Monday, then went home for supper. He seemed normal, and he left after he ate, telling his parents he was meeting a friend, and he’d never returned.

  His parents were at a loss as to where he might be. The police had just started their investigation, but they didn’t seem to know any more than they did about the other missing boys. Since Luke was eighteen, the police would have ordinarily waited longer to start searching, but with the recent rash of disappearances, the cops were taking this latest one seriously.

  The reporter drew parallels between Luke’s disappearance and those of the other three boys. They were all teenagers. They had all left to meet some friends. None of them ever came home.

  The article went on to mention two teenage girls who had gone missing from nearby coastal towns. All the boys were from Capri, but the girls were from two different towns more than a half hour away.

  “Do you think they’re going to question us?” Marcy asked.

  “Why? We didn’t have anything to do with that.”

  “Because we saw him that day.” Marcy pointed to the computer screen, as if to elaborate. “He went missing the night of the picnic.”

  Harper thought it over. “I don’t know. Maybe they will, but the paper said the police just started the investigation. They’ll probably talk to Alex, but I don’t know if they’re going to talk to every person who went to the picnic.”

  “That’s freaky, right?” Marcy asked. “We just saw him, and now he’s dead.”

  “He’s not dead. He’s missing,” Harper corrected her. “He might still be alive.”

  “I doubt it. They’re saying it’s a serial killer.”

  “They who?” Harper asked, leaning back in her chair. “The Herald didn’t say anything about it.”

  “I know.” Marcy shrugged. “‘They’ everybody. The people in town.”

  “Well, the people in town don’t know everything.” Harper scooted her chair back to her spot at the desk, away from Marcy and the horrible news story about Luke. “I’m sure he’ll turn up all right.”

  Marcy scoffed. “I highly doubt that. Nobody’s found any of these boys. I’m telling you there’s some serial killer on the loose picking off—”

  “Marcy!” Harper snapped, cutting off her train of thought. “Luke is Alex’s friend. He has parents and a life. Let’s hope for their sake that he’s okay. And we’ll leave it at that.”

  “Okay.” Marcy turned the computer screen back toward herself and inched her chair away from Harper. “I didn’t know it was such a touchy subject.”

  “It’s not touchy.” Harper let out a deep breath and softened her tone. “I just think we should be respectful in times of tragedy.”

  “Sorry.” Marcy was quiet for a moment. “I should probably get back to looking up fines anyway. I have lots of phone calls to make.”

  Harper tried to go back to reading the book, but she hadn’t really been that into it anyway. Her mind wandered back to Luke and his senior picture that tried too hard. She’d never felt anything for Luke, not anything more than friendship, but he was nice. They’d shared a few awkward, strained moments together, and they’d even kissed once. Now he might never come home.

  Though she didn’t want to admit it, Harper knew that Marcy was probably right. Luke wasn’t coming home alive.

  “I need a break,” Harper said suddenly and stood up.

  “What?” Marcy looked up at her from behind her ridiculous eyewear.

  “I think I’ll just go across the street and grab a Coke or something. But I need to just…” Harper shook her head. She didn’t know what she needed exactly, but she wanted to stop thinking about Luke.

  “So you’re gonna leave me here alone?” Marcy asked, sounding frightened at the prospect of having to deal with patrons.

  Harper glanced around the empty library. “I think you can handle it. Besides,” Harper said as she pushed back her chair, “I abandoned my sick sister yesterday to help out. You can cover for me for like thirty minutes.”

  “Thirty minutes?” Marcy called after Harper as she walked out the door.

  Just stepping out in the sun helped alleviate some of her unease. It was too beautiful a day to imagine anything bad happening. She tried to shake off her discomfort as she went across the street to Pearl’s Diner.

  The diner was run-down and dingy, so it managed to keep away a lot of the tourists, who hung around the beach. It didn’t have an over-the-top seafaring theme like most of the places by the bay, aside from one painting over the bar. It was a huge picture of a mermaid sitting on an open clamshell, holding a big pearl.

  A few booths lined the large front window, and stools covered in cracked red vinyl ran along the counter. Pearl had a few pieces of pie displayed in a glass case, but she only served two kinds—lemon and blueberry. The tiles on the floor were supposed to be red and white, but the white was more of a beig
e now.

  It was usually only the locals who went there. That was what was so weird about Penn and her friends coming to Pearl’s. They frequented it so often, they’d nearly become regulars, and they weren’t even from Capri.

  At the thought of Penn, Harper immediately looked around the diner. The last thing she needed was to run into them.

  Fortunately, Penn, Thea, and Lexi were nowhere in sight. Daniel, however, was sitting at a small table by himself eating a cup of soup when Harper walked in. He smiled when he saw her, so she went over to him.

  “I didn’t know you ate here.”

  “I gotta come here for Pearl’s famous clam chowder.” Daniel grinned, then gestured to the empty seat across from him. “Care to join me?” She chewed her lip, debating whether or not she should, so he said, “You do owe me a rain check after the ice-cream incident.”

  “I do,” she admitted, and, almost reluctantly, she sat down across from him.

  “I even got soup, so we’re right on track for a meal of equal value.”

  “That we are.”

  “So what brings you here?” Daniel asked.

  “Lunch,” Harper said, and he laughed at the obvious. “Actually, I work across the street at the library. I’m on break now.”

  “You come here a lot, then?” He’d finished his soup, so he pushed the bowl to the side and leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table.

  “Not really, no.” She shook her head. “My coworker Marcy hates being left alone at the library, so I usually eat my lunch there.”

  “Except for when your dad forgets his lunch.”

  “Yeah, except for that.”

  “Does he really forget his lunch that often?” He gave her a curious look, his hazel eyes dancing.

  Harper returned his curious expression. “Yeah. Why?”

  “Really?” Daniel did nothing to mask his disappointment. “Because I was starting to think you were looking for excuses to see me.”

  “Hardly.” She lowered her eyes and laughed.

  Daniel smiled, but he looked ready to protest her dismissal of his claims when Pearl came over to take Harper’s order. She was a heavyset woman who used home hair-dye kits in an attempt to cover her gray, but it only left her with blue hair.

  “How was the chowder?” Pearl asked, picking up Daniel’s bowl.

  “Great as always, Pearl.”

  “You should come in to eat it more, then,” Pearl said, then pointed to his slender frame. “You’re wasting away. What are you eating out there on the boat?”

  “Nothing nearly as good as your food,” Daniel admitted.

  “Well, I tell you what. My daughter’s air conditioner is on the fritz again. Her good-for-nothing husband can’t fix it, and she’s got those two little babies in that tiny apartment,” Pearl said. “They can’t handle the heat the way you or I can. If you swing by and check out her A/C tonight, I’ll send you home with a big bucket of my chowder.”

  “You got yourself a deal.” He smiled. “Tell your daughter I’ll stop by around six.”

  “Thank you. You’re a real sweetheart, Daniel.” Pearl winked at him, then turned to Harper. “What can I get for you?”

  “Just a Cherry Coke,” Harper said.

  “One Cherry Coke, coming up.”

  “You can order more than a Coke if you want,” Daniel told Harper once Pearl had left to fill the order. “I was just kidding about you having to pay for something of equal value.”

  “I know. I’m just not that hungry.” In truth, her stomach was still twisted from thinking about Luke. It had calmed down some since she’d gotten here, but her appetite hadn’t returned.

  “Are you sure?” Daniel asked again. “You’re not one of those girls that won’t eat in front of a guy she’s trying to impress?”

  Harper laughed at his presumption. “First of all, I’m not trying to impress you. And second, I’m definitely not one of those girls. I’m just not hungry.”

  “Here you go,” Pearl said, setting the glass on the table. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

  “No, we’re fine, thanks.” Harper smiled up at her.

  “All right. Let me know if you need anything.” Pearl touched Daniel’s arm gently before she left and gave him another grateful smile.

  “What’s that about, by the way?” Harper asked in a low voice and leaned across the table so Pearl wouldn’t overhear her. “You get paid in chowder?”

  “Sometimes.” Daniel shrugged. “I’m kind of a handyman, I guess. I do odd jobs. Pearl’s daughter doesn’t have very much money, and I help out when I can.”

  Harper appraised him for a minute, trying to get a read on him, before saying, “That’s very nice of you.”

  “Why do you sound so surprised?” Daniel laughed. “I’m a nice guy.”

  “No, I know that. I didn’t mean it like that.”

  “I know,” Daniel said, watching her sip her drink. “So, you don’t usually leave for lunch, and you came to a diner even though you’re not hungry. What brings you here today?”

  “I just needed a break.” She didn’t look at him directly, instead focusing on the thick black branches of his tattoo, which crept past the sleeve of his T-shirt and down his arm. “A friend of mine is missing.”

  “What’s the deal with you?” Daniel teased. “First your sister goes missing, now your friend.” Harper gave him a hard look, and his smile vanished. “Sorry. What happened?”

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “He’s more of a friend of a friend, but we dated a few times. And he just went missing on Monday.”

  “Oh, is he that kid from the paper?” Daniel asked.

  “Yeah.” Harper nodded. “I just read about it before I came here, and I just needed to … not think about it anymore.”

  “I’m sorry for bringing it up, then.”

  “No, it’s okay. You didn’t know.”

  “How is your sister, by the way?” Daniel asked, changing the subject.

  “Good, I think,” Harper said, then gave him a rueful smile. “I haven’t even properly thanked you for helping me find her yesterday.”

  “You thanked me plenty.” He waved off her apology. “I’m just glad she’s all right. Gemma seems like a good kid.”

  “She used to be,” Harper agreed. “But I don’t know what’s going on with her anymore.”

  “I’m sure she’ll turn out all right. You raised her right.”

  “You make it sound like I’m her mother.” Harper laughed somewhat uncomfortably. Daniel just looked at her and shrugged. “You think I act like her mother?”

  “I don’t think you act like you’re eighteen,” he clarified.

  She bristled as if he’d accused her of something terrible. “I have a lot to worry about.”

  He nodded. “I can tell.”

  Harper rubbed the back of her neck and turned away from him. Through the diner window she could see the library across the street, and she wondered how well Marcy was holding up.

  “I should probably get back,” Harper said, and she reached into her pocket for her money.

  “No, no.” Daniel waved his hand. “I got this. Don’t worry about it.”

  “But I thought this was my IOU meal for the ice cream.”

  “I was just kidding. I’ll pay.”

  “Are you sure?” Harper asked.

  “Yeah,” he said, laughing at her guilt-stricken expression. “If it bothers you so much, I’ll let you pay for it some other time.”

  “What if we don’t ever eat together again?” Harper asked, eyeing him skeptically.

  “Then we don’t.” He shrugged. “But I think we will.”

  “Okay,” she said, because she couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Thank you for the Coke.”

  “No problem,” Daniel said, watching her as she got up.

  “And I’ll see you around, I guess.”

  He nodded and gave her a small wave. As she was walking out the door, she heard Pearl ask him if he
wanted any pie. Harper went back across the street to the library, and it was very hard for her not to glance back over her shoulder at him.

  THIRTEEN

  Rebellion

  Part of her penance was helping Harper clean. It actually wasn’t specifically dictated as part of her punishment, but it helped ease Gemma’s guilt over frightening both Harper and her father so badly.

  Based on how much Harper complained about it, Gemma thought that cleaning the bathroom was her least favorite chore. So that was the one Gemma had offered to take over. Although, after spending five minutes scrubbing the inside of the toilet, she was really starting to regret it.

  When she got to cleaning the tub, she realized that the toilet wasn’t even the worst part. The drain in the bathtub was disgusting. Harper always claimed it was mostly Gemma’s hair clogging things up, but Gemma hadn’t really believed her until now.

  Fortunately, she wore thick yellow cleaning gloves, or else there would have been no way she could’ve handled it. As she pulled out a long wet rope of hair that looked all too much like a drowned rat, Gemma noticed something glinting in the light.

  Carefully, she picked it out of the tangles, and when she saw what it was, she dropped the wet mass of hair. It was another one of those weird iridescent scales she’d found in her bath sponge. She’d nearly forgotten about the last one. Or at least she’d tried to.

  Gemma sat in the tub, leaning her back against the rim, and stared down at the big scale in the palm of her gloved hand.

  Something strange was definitely going on with her. Ever since she’d drunk from the flask, something had felt … off.

  Not that it was all bad stuff. In fact, Gemma couldn’t actually think of anything bad about the changes at all.

  Sure, she’d bitten Alex yesterday, but he hadn’t really been hurt. And while the making out had been different, it hadn’t been bad. Kissing him like that had been fun.

  Her body healed crazy fast. All her bruises and cuts had disappeared in just over twenty-four hours.