A Hold on Me

by Pat Esden

  Grandfather nodded. “It’ll be dropped off at your office next week, and I speak for the entire family when I say, we are glad that we are able to return it to the church.”

  The priest dipped his head. “I’ll personally see to it that it’s delivered to Rome.”

  Once the priest’s footsteps faded, Grandfather smiled at me. “You did well,” he said.

  Kate pulled a tissue out of a box on her desk and dabbed the sheen off her face. “All I’m grateful for is that it’s over, and that the possession had nothing to do with that so-called poison ring you sold for your father.”

  “That certainly would have complicated the situation, perhaps even made it impossible,” Grandfather said. “As it is, all we’re left with is a priest who’s hoping he’s made converts out of us, and who’s annoyingly curious.”

  I laughed. I couldn’t help it. This was all so bizarre. It felt like the right reaction, but the sound died in the room’s stillness.

  Kate stroked her throat and grimaced at me as if she’d caught the scent of armpit odor.

  Grandfather’s lips pressed into a grim line, but as he spoke his voice softened a little. “The church and our family have always been close allies, Annie, but caution must be taken. Some believe their power has weakened in this modern day and age. That, however, is far from the truth.”

  Dropping my gaze, I watched a semi-rabid-looking cat streak across the room and disappear under the bookcase. Kate and Grandfather talking candidly while I was in the room almost made me feel like they had accepted me as part of the family and, for a second, I wanted to be. But I knew neither feeling was real and that I couldn’t afford to open up to them. All I’d have to do was ask about Mother, and they’d go as cold and silent as her grave. At least, I strongly suspected they would, considering how they’d hidden the truth from Dad.

  Kate cleared her throat. “Annie, you do realize that you’re not to talk to anyone about the possession or exorcism. Out of respect for your father’s privacy. And there’s no need to frighten Selena or get Zachary’s curiosity up, either. Silence is golden. Understand?”

  I nodded yes. It was crystal clear. They were temporarily letting me be a part of their secret dealings because they wanted me to lie for them. Just like they expected Chase to lie.

  “That’s a good girl,” Grandfather said. “Now, why don’t you go upstairs and sit with your Dad.”

  The knots of tension released from my neck and shoulders as I left the study behind and headed for Dad’s room. It would be nice to spend some time with him without worrying about the stranger he’d become or him not recognizing me. It seemed likely the exorcism would have driven off the shadows in his room as well as the demon, especially since the cross and relic were still in there.

  A heavy feeling rose up from deep inside me and gathered force, like an impending storm. It didn’t seem like it would take long for Dad to be strong enough to leave, two days, maybe three at the most. Maybe David would return with the ring by then and I wouldn’t have to worry about it ruining my future. Kate acted like she thought I might be wrong about it being a forgery. I could only hope I was that lucky. At any rate, maybe the whole family would treat me and Dad decently for the next few days, maybe not.

  But one thing was certain, if I wanted to ever know what really happened the day my mother died, I needed to start digging—and now.

  CHAPTER 12

  The coat was made of bearskin with two dozen mink

  hides as fringe around its collar. Fastened to its breast

  with a pin from a Scotsman’s kilt was a note, written

  on hairless hide. Try me on, it said. No words have

  ever been more enticing or treacherous.

  —James William Freemont

  The Tale of Samuel and the Snake Mound Furrier

  When suppertime came, Dad was still very weak. But he managed to sit up long enough to down everything on his plate, except for half a pork chop.

  “It’s tough as shoe leather,” he whispered. Then he winked at me. “Too bad we can’t transform it into a rack of lamb with a smidge of mint jelly on the side.”

  That made me smile. My old Dad was back. My misinterpretation of his elbow scratching had scared the crap out of me, but, thankfully, I’d been wrong about what it meant.

  The humor fled from Dad’s voice and his face became somber. “I’m sorry you had to go through this, Annie. But, in a couple of days, we’ll be able to leave this rattrap. Think about where you’d like to go—the Cape, the Adirondacks. It’s your choice.” He waggled his eyebrows. “How about New York? If I’m not mistaken there’s an intern at the Met you might like to see.”

  A crawling feeling went over my skin and I shuddered. Definitely not New York and the Met. If I didn’t ever see Taj again it would be too soon. Maybe London, but that would have to wait. I wanted to go there by myself, to take a class and hang out.

  “Don’t worry about me. I’m just glad you’re okay,” I said. It seemed too soon to tell him our house was closed up and our bank accounts busted, except for whatever Grandfather had siphoned into them.

  Not long after that, Dad fell asleep. When Laura came by and offered to watch over him, I beelined for my room.

  More than anything, I needed time alone to think. A couple of days. That didn’t give me very long to find out about Mother. And it wasn’t like I could tell Dad what was on my mind. He’d tell me not to go prying into the past, to be civil while we were here, and then move on with our lives as soon as possible. Dad was sweet and funny. He was all the world to me. But he didn’t believe in forgiveness. Even a million good deeds wouldn’t change his mind once he’d made it up about someone, like his family.

  I was almost to my bedroom door when I spotted the toilet paper I’d stuck in the jamb lying on the hallway floor. Son of a bitch. Someone had gone into my room again.

  The door banged against the wall as I flung it open. My eyes scoured the room. No one. I dashed into the bathroom. No one was in there either.

  I went back and closed the door.

  As I turned around and braced myself to check under the bed, I noticed a small gift bag sitting on one of the pillows.

  My heart leapt into my throat and I backed away. Not just a gift bag. It was black and the handles were tied with an equally black ribbon. There was nothing benign about that color choice. Black stood for death, for witchcraft, and darkness. And the bag was the perfect size to hold something nasty, like a blood-soaked voodoo doll or a decapitated sparrow.

  I raised my chin and crept forward. I’d survived the pentagram and a freaking exorcism. I could deal with this. Whatever it was.

  With two fingers I tugged the bag off the pillow and dragged it across the bed toward me. There wasn’t a card to indicate who’d left it.

  Carefully, I untied the ribbon and looked inside.

  Pink tissue paper. Lots of it. Happy and cheerful, a real gift, not something horrible like my overactive imagination had assumed.

  I took out the bundle of tissue paper. Inside it was a pot of lip gloss, sparklers, and a nip of peppermint schnapps. Selena. Damn. The party. I’d totally forgotten all about it.

  With a bit too much force, I slapped the sparklers on the bedside stand, then flopped down on the bed and twisted open the lip gloss. Its citrusy aroma mingled with the quilt’s freshly washed scent. It was bizarre how Selena’s brain could black out or skip over all the weird things going on around the house—and focus on partying and Newt. Had the oddness of Dad’s illness even vaguely occurred to her? It seemed like she might have noticed that, especially since she had an interest in medicine and supposedly knew about witchcraft.

  As I started to slide my index finger across the surface of the lip gloss, I hesitated. The texture looked right, as did the shine. But there were unappetizing gray swirls and nubby green flecks scattered through it.

  I set the pot down, picked up its cover, and studied the label:

  Mind-Blowing Citrus Lip Gloss—try me


  The printing looked like it had come from a home computer, not a factory. That didn’t mean anything in itself. But there was no list of ingredients; even hippie cosmetics included them.

  No way was I going to slather on this could-be-a-hallucinogenic-or-aphrodisiac homemade slime because the label said try me. I wasn’t stupid like Alice in Wonderland, who ended up tall as a house after munching on a cake that said eat me, or Samuel in Dad’s Moonhill story, who went feral after he’d dressed in a fur coat he’d found buried in an Ohio snake mound, simply because a note commanded him to try me on.

  Perhaps the gloss was harmless. But I wasn’t about to take a chance, any more than I was about to sneak out tonight like some high school kid and party with a crowd I didn’t know.

  Rubbing the cover between my fingers, I gave that decision a rethink.

  Screw it. Dad would probably sleep until noon tomorrow. I’d built my life around him for months. I deserved a break. It wasn’t like I’d never had a good time at a party, or like my sneaking-out days were that far behind me. I could relax, get a little buzz on. As long as I stayed more sober than Selena I’d be all set. I could even ask her about my mother’s death as well as pressure her into telling me who’d actually made the pentagram.

  I put the cover back on the lip gloss, then headed to the bathroom and stashed it in the medicine cabinet. If I went to the party, I could also take some photos, nothing too raunchy, just some candid party shots I could strategically share on the Internet, a little revenge for the pictures I’d discovered of Taj and that girl.

  The room filled with steam as I fixed a bath. Once the tub was full, I took a couple of sips of schnapps, then slid in. Closing my eyes, I focused on the warmth of the water against my skin: the relaxing scent of gardenia bubble bath, the slush-slop sound of the water, and the smoothness of the porcelain against my shoulders. It would be fun to dance and meet some new guys. Hopefully, a lot nicer than Taj.

  Taj had been such a good friend for so long. The day when everything changed, he’d taken me to The Cloisters, so I could finally see the Unicorn Tapestries. As we’d toured the exhibits we talked about what I’d been up to, about his internship at the Metropolitan, and the Near Eastern artifacts he was helping categorize. Later, we snuck a bottle of wine into a retro movie theater and drank it while we watched Romeo and Juliet. I could still see Taj, his dark hair flopping over his face as he leaned in to kiss me, his mouth sweet with wine. We left before the movie got over and had sex twice at his parents’ loft. We did it three more times in my hotel room later. It was amazing, too. I’d never had sex like that before. Fun. Kinky. No holding back.

  Really late, like after two in the morning, I’d heard Dad return to his room next door. He’d gone to the theater and for drinks with friends. I was surprised but relieved he didn’t look in on me. Not that Dad had any reason to get angry or shocked that I had a guy in my room—after all, I wasn’t a kid. It was just that I wasn’t ready for him to see in my eyes what I had only just discovered for myself.

  Until that moment, I’d never believed I would find love as fierce and enduring as my dad had for my mother. They’d only had a few short years together before she died. Still, she remained the only woman he desired. He lived in the memory of their time together. A love so powerful and profound that even death couldn’t lessen it. I’d aspired to love like that, but I wasn’t sure it was possible—until that moment, lying in the arms of a guy who’d been a best friend for years, every inch of my body humming from sex. Right then, I believed I’d found it.

  Wiping tears from my eyes, I scrambled out of the bathtub. Not that I cared about Taj anymore. I definitely didn’t. And this wasn’t the time to go all girly and depressed—or, for that matter, for relaxing or meeting new guys. I’d go to the party, but the only reason would be to get information out of Selena.

  Another guy muscled his way into my thoughts: his outdoorsy scent surrounding me in the library when I’d thought for a second he was going to kiss me, him holding me back in Dad’s room, his hand stopping my screams, his arms pinning me hard against him, his arms folded across his chest as he glared at the Mercedes’s window. His smoke-blue eyes, hiding so many things.

  Yeah, I didn’t have time for guys, with one exception: Chase.

  He definitely knew something about my mother and I wouldn’t mind spending some private time with him. Unfortunately, I doubted he’d be at the party. Keeping track of Selena may have been one of his jobs, but it sounded like she’d found a way to escape without him knowing.

  I heaved a sigh. So much for asking him. Most likely it was for the best, considering the effect he had on my crazy-ass hormones.

  A few minutes after eleven, my bedroom door opened and Selena slipped inside.

  She grinned at my cami top and jeans. “You look great.”

  “I love the lip gloss,” I lied before she could ask.

  “I made it myself.” She grinned. Without hinting that there was anything special about the gloss, she unzipped her hoodie and gave me a flash of her bright red and bare-shoulder top.

  “Wow! You look hot.” I didn’t have to fake my reaction. She looked amazing, like a cover model from Victoria’s Secret.

  “Thanks, and don’t worry about bringing the schnapps or sparklers. You can save them for some other time.” She zipped her hoodie back up. “We better get going. Our ride’s waiting in the garage.”

  Our ride? I swallowed hard. I’d been so focused on what I could gain by going to the party that I hadn’t stopped to consider anything else, like how dark it would be and that we couldn’t simply drive out the front gate.

  I slipped my hand into my jeans pocket, double-checking that the mini-flashlight was still there. “So, how are we getting to this party? I’m assuming it’s at someone’s house?”

  “It’s on the beach. About ten minutes away—if you know the trail and have an ATV, like we do.” A gleam twinkled in her eyes. “All we have to do is roll the ATV out of the garage and down to the woods. From there it’s a cinch.” She sighed. “But I’ll have to take a rain check on borrowing your red shoes. The wet sand would snap off their heels.”

  I barely heard what she said after ATV. Holy insanity! We were going riding through the pitch-black woods to a beach in the middle of the night.

  My stomach flip-flopped and an acidy taste coated the back of my throat. “I—ah. I can’t go,” I said.

  “You’ve got to be kidding. You’re all dressed. A second ago you were excited.” Her hands went to her hips. “Tell me the truth.”

  I looked down at my sandals. If I wanted to get the truth out of her, it would help to give her something first. Besides, given a minute to think, she’d probably guess why I was hesitating.

  I took a deep breath. “I know it’s stupid. But I’m—I’m scared of the dark.” I held my breath, waiting for her to laugh. I’d never told anyone, except Dad, about my fear before.

  Her voice gentled. “That’s awful. But you know”—she picked up my cardigan off the bed and handed it to me—“the only way people get over fears is to face them. And this time you don’t have to do it alone. I’ll be with you. I promise I won’t do anything stupid, like turn the ATV’s lights off or leave you stranded. I’ll stick with you the whole time.”

  My fingers trembled as I took the sweater. She was right about facing my fear, and she sounded sincere. Besides, if I didn’t go, I’d blow what might be my only chance to find out about my mother. I’d never be able to live with myself then.

  Selena gave me a hug. “If you need me to, I’ll turn around and come home. Promise.”

  “Okay,” I said. This wasn’t going to be easy. But I had to do it.

  Fifteen minutes later, I was wearing a helmet and sitting on the back of an ATV, my fingers white-knuckling both sides of the seat. As the engine rumbled to life, I forced my fingers to let go and wrapped my arms around Selena’s waist. Then we zinged into the woods.

  I clamped my eyes shut. There was n
o denying it, I’d gone totally insane.

  “Hey!” Selena shouted over the ATV’s grumble. “See, it’s not so bad.”

  I cracked my eyes open. Not bad? Yeah, right. If I didn’t barf it would be a miracle.

  Icy sweat drizzled down my back as she gunned the gas and the ATV leapt to light speed. Branches clawed out from the darkness and limbs hung down. Streaks of moonlight broke through, brightened the trail for a split second, then vanished as we rushed headlong though the overwhelming blackness.

  I looked past Selena’s shoulder and focused on the jouncing headlight beams. The whole idea of encouraging her to get a buzz on seemed worse than crazy now. If she got drunk, we’d get into an accident for sure. We’d end up stranded in the woods—or dead. Shit. What if she’d already taken or drunk something, or wiped something on her lips? I had no idea how to drive an ATV.

  We careened out of the trees and plummeted down a sand dune. My stomach dropped as the ATV tilted to one side, then righted itself when we thumped onto a beach.

  Long wedges of moonlit sand and glimmering tidal pools stretched toward the surging waves and horizon. The smell of wood smoke and the thud of music echoed in the air. A short ways up the beach, the orange glow of a bonfire and a pillar of sparks rose into the night.

  As we sped closer, I could make out a crowd of at least forty or fifty people gathered around the massive fire, drinking and dancing. Kegs and coolers covered picnic tables. The glint of trucks and cars dotted the shoreline.

  Selena skittered the ATV to a stop.

  I stared longingly at the distant firelight. “Why are we parking so far away?”

  She pulled off her helmet and hoodie and began finger-teasing her hair. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t want anyone calling me a helmet-head.”

  Keeping my eyes on the bonfire’s brightness, I took off my own helmet and shakily finger-brushed my flattened hair until its waves returned.