“But I’m the one he truly loves,” Martha said, getting her laughter under control.
“Oh, right. If you believe that, you’re even stupider than I imagined.”
I threw my hands up in the air. “Wait one second. You knew? You knew all this time Brad was cheating on Elena and didn’t say anything?”
Brandi shrugged. “I had my suspicions. The talk about him was never good. But there was never any proof. Unfortunately for Elena, he’s a bit smarter than your average cheating guy – he stayed away from mutual acquaintances.”
I pointed to Martha. “She’s a mutual acquaintance! She’s her cousin, for God’s sake.”
Brandi transferred her “You’re an idiot” look to me.
“And other than those presently here and accounted for, who else in our little circle of friends knows this?” I shook my head, rubbed my eyes and started pacing. “This is so out of control.” As I passed Martha, I caught a whiff of her perfume. Light and flowery.
Of all the things I had experienced in the past few weeks, this by far had to be the most bizarre. I snapped my head around to face Martha. “And you. Of all people. Elena’s your cousin. Your cousin. How could you do this to her?”
Martha pursed her soft pink lips together, her blue-gray eyes darting back and forth between Brandi and me. I was amazed at how large and expressive her eyes had become. A little makeup could do wonders.
“You don’t understand.” Her voice was flat and expressionless. “She got everything handed to her. Always did. I had to work and work and work. I got nothing handed to me. Not like her. She gets a college education with everything paid for. Me, I need scholarships and loans and I still have to work. It’s not fair.”
I cocked my head. “Not fair? You’re telling me about not fair?”
She made a face. “Oh, you. It’ll work out for you, just like it’ll work out for Elena. She’ll find someone else. Brad’s mine.”
“Brad’s not yours anymore than he was Elena’s,” Brandi said. “He doesn’t want a relationship. With you or anyone else. He only wants one thing. And you’re a fool if you keep giving it to him.”
Martha lifted her chin. “He says I’m the best he’s ever had.”
Brandi rolled her eyes. “Oh, please. You believe that shit? Honey, let me give you a bit of advice – he says that to everyone. You deserve to be dumped.”
“You don’t understand,” Martha burst out. “He loves me. He really does. Why should Elena always get the good ones? I want someone to love me, too. I deserve it.”
“Martha, I can’t believe I’m saying this to you, but Brad is not one of the good ones,” I said. “Trust me, you could do better than some guy who gets off screwing his girlfriend’s cousin. Do you honestly think these are the actions of a man who has a high opinion of women?”
Martha violently shook her head, tendrils of hair whipping around her face. “You don’t understand what we mean to each other. How he feels about me. He loves me.”
Brandi slipped another cigarette between her lips. “Whatever.” I heard the click of the lighter and Brandi’s sharp intake of breath.
“You’re smoking? In here?” Martha squeaked.
Brandi blew out a cloud of smoke and smiled coldly. “And you’re going to say what about it, Miss Marijuana-Fiend?”
“Am not a marijuana-fiend,” Martha said.
Brandi gestured with her cigarette. “Whatever. Aren’t you off to meet Brad? Make sure you ask him what kind of relationship you can expect from him now that Elena’s out of the picture.”
“Already saw him,” Martha muttered.
“Well,” Brandi drawled out. “You must be so excited, talking about when you can move in now that Elena’s gone.”
Martha became very interested in her scuffed white pump. “Didn’t get around to talking about it.”
“What?” Brandi said. “Didn’t quite hear you there.”
Martha raised her head, eyes burning, mouth flattened. “Said we didn’t get around to talking about it.”
“Oh,” Brandi said, nodding and sucking down another lungful of smoke. “I’m sure you will.” She smiled, a cruel smile, and blew a steady stream of smoke at Martha.
Martha muttered something and clumped down the stairs again. Amazing. She sounded exactly the same in heels as she did in her usual heavy brown boots. Guess the old cliché is true – you can take the girl out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the girl. After a moment, we heard the front door open and close.
“Well.” Brandi sat back down. “That was entertaining.”
I kept staring at the top of the stairs. Even through the smoke, I could still smell Martha’s light, flowery perfume. Kind of what you would expect fairies to wear. “You didn’t have to throw it in her face.” I faced Brandi. “She knows. Deep down, she knows.”
Brandi shrugged. “She’s a fool and she’s sleeping with her cousin’s boyfriend. Not to mention all the shit she did to you. Why would you defend her?”
I couldn’t answer. There was something so, well, pathetic about Martha. Watching her face when Brandi dug in, I almost felt sorry for her. Like watching someone kick a mean, mongrel, half-starved dog.
Brandi abruptly put out her cigarette out and stood up. “Let’s get out of here. I need a drink and, by the looks of you, you could use one too.”
“Yeah, but with the amount of medicine I’m taking, I probably shouldn’t have one.”
“One beer isn’t going to hurt. Might help you sleep.”
I shrugged, too drained to argue and I really did want that beer. “I still don’t get how Martha had your papers in the first place.”
“I would’ve thought that was obvious.” Brandi tripped down the stairs. “I caught her with Brad.”
“Really? Where?”
“Here.” Brandi handed me my coat. “I skipped a class, came home to pick up something, can’t remember what now, and found them on the landing. Brad about to leave, Martha in this little nighty thing. Ugh. Can’t tell you how scary it was. Not just the nighty, although that was pretty scary, but the whole situation. Anyway, despite the fact I told them this was none of my business and I don’t do tattle-telling, Martha decided I still needed to be encouraged to keep my mouth shut. So, she dug through my things, found what she needed and made copies. Quite the little blackmailer, our Martha.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense. The file was sitting there in plain sight in an open filing cabinet.”
Brandi slid her coat on. “And you were in her room for, what? Needed to borrow a cup of sugar?”
“Mr. Jamieson wanted me to get the rest of Elena’s things.”
“Ah.” Brandi adjusted her scarf. “She told me she had copies, multiple copies, in safe places. At first I was so furious I almost did go straight to Elena, but then I decided it was better to wait and see what happened. I knew it had to come out, eventually. And, once it did, we’d vote Martha off the island and that’d be the end of it.”
Brandi held the door open for me and I stepped out, the wind immediately cutting into my cheeks. “Would you really have not told Elena? Even without the blackmail?”
Brandi became very busy locking the door. “There are a lot of women out there who know their husbands or boyfriends are cheating on them and are dealing with it in their own way. When that’s the case, getting involved does more harm than good.” She straightened, dropped her keys in her purse. “I wasn’t sure if Elena was one of those women or not. So, no, I probably wouldn’t have told. But that wouldn’t have stopped me from dropping a few hints, in case she wasn’t that kind of woman. Now, where to?”
“Just as long as the beer is cold and plentiful, I don’t care,” I said. “This is not a week to be picky about drinking establishments.”
Chapter 30
“Your stupid stalker ruined my life.�
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Startled, I spilled one of the beers I was collecting from the bar, just missing the guy with a goatee and brown flannel shirt next to me. “Join the club, Elena.”
She slammed her fist on the bar as I attempted to pick up the glasses a second time. The goatee guy shot me a worried look. Probably afraid I would ruin his favorite shirt.
“My father is furious,” Elena said. “Threatening to cut me off. My mother is hysterical. What am I going to do?”
At least now I knew why Elena was mad at me. “Have a beer. On me.” I gestured for the bartender to pour another one.
“This isn’t funny, Kit.” Her face was red and swollen, her eyes bloodshot.
“I didn’t say it was. I think you need a beer. No joke. C’mon. Brandi’s over there waiting.” The bar door opened and two African-American women walked in. I found myself holding my breath and forced myself to exhale.
Elena’s eyes flickered in Brandi’s direction. She pulled a wadded up rag of a tissue from her pocket and blew her nose. “I don’t know what to do. He’s threatening to cut off all my funding.”
“With one semester left before you graduate? He may be angry but he’s not stupid. Tell him you’ll move back in with us. That should make him feel better.” I weaved my way across the bar, dodging knots of people having a few quiet beers while the Eagles played mournfully in the background.
“Right. You’re the ones who let me move in with that loser in the first place. I’m sure he’ll be leaping at that chance. Not to mention the whole stalking thing.”
“Elena, you’re blowing this out of proportion. He’s not going to cut you off because it’d be stupid.”
“You don’t know him.”
I sighed, reaching the scarred wooden table and putting the drinks down. The table rocked slightly. “Okay, let’s say the worst happens and he refuses to give you a single dime. You can get a job, get student loans. That’s how other people make it through college. You only need one more semester. Worse comes to worse, maybe you’ll have to work full time and go to school part time next semester and finish this summer. So what? You’ll get through. And you won’t be under your father’s thumb. Wouldn’t that be nice?” I sat down in the uncomfortable chipped wooden chair across from Brandi, taking another quick peek at all the guys in the bar. The one by the darts had David’s build, but his hair was the wrong color and style. I squeezed my purse. Yep, everything in order – phone, pepper spray and noisemaker on top in easy reach.
Elena hiccupped. “You’re not being very sympathetic.”
I scooped up my glass and drank, the table rocking, sloshing the beer sitting on the table. Suddenly I realized I had reached the end of my resources – nothing left for politeness. Survival. That’s what this was turning into. “And you need to ask why? I’ll trade places with you in a second. A tenth of a second. You know you can always live with us.” I rubbed my chest – it still hurt despite the pain medicine.
“Yeah.” Brandi finally spoke as she reached for her glass. “We have a room available and everything. It’s downstairs, but it should be cozy once we get the current tenant out.”
Elena slid into a chair. “Don’t kick Martha out,” she said heavily. “She has enough problems.”
Brandi glanced at her in surprise. “You’re awfully generous considering she’s been banging your boyfriend.”
Elena slumped in her seat. “Yeah, well. What does that say about me? I wanted to marry someone who preys on lonely, vulnerable women. Martha wasn’t the first, and lord knows she won’t be the last, but she probably was the most vulnerable of them all.”
“Still.” Brandi arched her eyebrows over her glass. “Aren’t you taking this forgive and forget thing a little far? You can’t tell me you’re all right with her doing this.”
“No, I’m not.” Elena pulled a glass toward her and drank. “But you have to understand our families. Martha’s mom, Aunt Bev, was wickedly jealous of my mother her entire life. Mom was beautiful, second runner-up in the Miss Illinois pageant and married well. Aunt Bev, the older and less attractive sister, didn’t marry so well, at least not in her estimation. Uncle Fred works in a factory. Makes good money, but he’s no lawyer.” Elena sighed. “Of course, what Aunt Bev doesn’t know is Mom’s life is hardly perfect. Daddy’s been cheating on her forever, and Mom puts up with it because she likes the money and lifestyle. Not to mention how Mom’s never gotten over losing the Miss Illinois pageant. She’s convinced it’s because the one who won slept with the judge. Then, there’s me – such a disappointment – her only daughter not even making first cut in the Miss Illinois pageant.”
“None of that’s your fault,” I said. The guy by the pool table really looked like David. No, his hair was too long and he wore wire-rimmed glasses. I checked my purse again, just to be on the safe side.
“No, but Martha’s been weaned on my aunt’s hatred and jealousy all her life. Is it any surprise she’d do this to me? And me, seriously dating a guy who can’t be faithful, although as pre-med he’ll probably make good money one day. I mean, my God. Is this the most pathetic thing you’ve ever heard?” Elena finished her beer. “However, I don’t think Daddy’s ever slept with Aunt Bev.”
“Quite the consolation,” Brandi said dryly.
Elena shrugged. “Maybe I should hope Daddy cuts me off. Maybe I’d quit making the same mistakes.”
“My advice – take the money. Chances are you’ll make those same mistakes anyway, might as well have the money while you do it,” Brandi said.
“Just what I needed to hear. Thank you, Brandi.” Elena got to her feet. “Going for a refill.”
“Bring back a pitcher,” Brandi said. “We need it.”
I nodded, although I planned only to nurse this current glass of beer. I kept hearing the echo of Elena’s words. Was I repeating the same mistakes my parents made?
***
The church loomed in front of me. I followed my parents as they walked around it. My breathing hitched, my chest burned.
“It’s all here,” Cat said next to me. “Everything you need.”
I opened up my mouth to answer, but coughs flew out instead. I coughed so hard I couldn’t walk, but still I continued to move forward. Moving closer. The wolves howled, the bell rang.
Hot pains burst through my chest. Fire searing the soft flesh of my lungs. Hungry. Eager. I put my hand to my mouth and it came back red and dripping. Blood. Coughing up blood. The pain in my chest sharpened. My head burned. Fever most likely.
“I’m dying,” I said to Cat.
Cat shrugged. “You always knew you had come here to die.”
Come here to die. Come here to die.
The graveyard was up ahead. The newly dug grave. The people around it. The dark shadow. The wolves howled louder. The bell rang faster.
“It’s time,” Cat said. “Finally. The time has come.”
The dark shadow gathered itself. Blood leaked from my mouth. Helpless, I floated closer.
“You have no idea how long I’ve waited,” Cat said.
I was almost on top of the people gathered around the grave. They turned their blank faces toward me. Doctors, nurses, lawyers, judges, executives, psychologists. Some of the faces I recognized – my doctor as a child, the nurses who had administered medicine and cooled my burning body while I lay dying in the hospital, even the woman in the photo Cat gave me. All had wings, like fairies. With a start, I saw my parents had joined them. My parents with their flat eyes and empty faces. They turned to look at me, no recognition in their expressions. They, too, now had wings.
I collapsed on the grave, fresh dirt filling my mouth. I tasted the coldness, the dankness, the grittiness. My blood soaked into the ground, darkening it.
Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.
The dark shadow loomed over me. I spat bloody mud out of my mouth, coughing. I was burning up. I
was dying.
Slowly, I tilted my head up. Into the shadow. Into the darkness. At first, I couldn’t see anything but the black. I blinked a few times and the details sharpened abruptly, like focusing a camera.
It was David. David towering over me. Grinning. Holding a knife. He had been waiting for me.
Now I understood.
David was death.
Death had finally caught up with me.
At last.
Cat knelt next to me. “It’s all real, Kit.”
I stared at her. “What’s real?”
She smiled, held her arms out. “All of it, Kit. All of this.”
David leaned closer, grinning, raising the knife.
I crashed back into reality, thrashing on the bed, tangled in the sheets, my breathing harsh and violent. Before I could get myself under control, I exploded into a ferocious coughing fit, complete with green mucus. Oh, God, here it is. Infection. My body was on fire. Maybe I should go to the hospital.
Once I calmed down, I decided the diagnosis wasn’t quite that bad. My temperature was at 99.6, elevated yes, but hardly hospital-worthy. And the mucus wasn’t as green as I first thought. Definitely getting worse. Definitely should call a doctor. Definitely should be taking better care of myself. If I had my head on straight, I would be doing all these things. However, I hadn’t had my head on straight since Halloween.
Staying as quiet as possible, I splashed cold water on my face, changed into clean sweats and a tee shirt, swallowed a couple of Tylenol and went back to bed. Elena was sleeping on the couch and I didn’t want to wake her. After splitting a couple of pitchers with Brandi, she couldn’t bear to return to the one-room apartment her father had dug up for her. So, she took over our couch instead. Tomorrow morning should be interesting.
As for me, I had tried calling Tommy a couple of times last night. Both his apartment and cell, but he didn’t answer either. I desperately wanted to talk to him, to hear his voice. I wanted to tell him I understood now and I thought I might be willing to give us a try, just as long as he still wanted to. I wanted to say so many things, but I kept getting his voicemail. I didn’t leave any messages.
The Stolen Twin Page 26
