She couldn’t stop him when he slipped past her towards the yawning mouth, not without sounding crazy, so she watched him, her heart cracking in her chest as he fumbled inside the opening for the switch. Ana tried not to notice how it looked, the black eating his hand to the wrist. Her stomach churned.
“Do you know where the switch is?” he asked, glancing back over his shoulder.
Ana started to open her mouth to tell him she didn’t, when Mr. Whiley’s eyes went round and wild with shock. His jaw gaped in a silent scream and his entire body went rigid as if someone had shoved a ruler straight through his spine. All the color rushed from his face. Then, as Ana watched with a new swell of terror, he collapsed, striking the hardwood with a force that vibrated through the planks and made every bone in Ana’s body ache, even as she opened her mouth and screamed.
Chapter Four
Ana
A heart attack, the paramedic said an hour later as they carted Mr. Whiley away on a stretcher. Ana wasn’t sure she believed it. She wasn’t a superstitious person or a believer of things without logic, but every fiber of her being screamed that something in the basement had caused Mr. Whiley to collapse. Something in that basement had … stop it! She pressed a cold, clammy hand to her burning eyes. It hadn’t been the basement, because the basement was just another room. There was nothing down there.
Then why won’t you go back inside? The taunting voice laughed as Ana turned on the porch to peer at the open doorway of her new home. Behind her, twilight had painted the sky a soft navy blue and the trees black. The only light now was that spilling through the open doorway.
The door to the basement was closed. She’d slammed it shut the second Mr. Whiley had hit the ground, his body twisted at an awkward angle, all bent and unnatural. But it still seemed to pulse with a black aura against the dim light of the foyer. Ana wondered why she hadn’t seen it before.
You’re not seeing it now! she told herself. But no amount of reassurance could shake the bile rising inside her, sweat chilling her skin, and the persistent veil of tears blinding her. She had never wanted her mom and dad more than she did at that moment.
There was no sleep for her that night. She locked herself in her bedroom and called her dad’s cell. He picked up on the second ring, voice heavy with sleep, but alert and concern-filled.
“Ana?”
She was sobbing and blubbering even before her mouth opened. Just the sound of his warm baritone voice was enough to send the floodgates flying wide open. She poured out the whole story to him, leaving nothing out. Not even the invisible evil living in their basement. Her father listened quietly until her hysterical wails turned into pathetic hiccups.
“Ana,” he said softly, comfortingly. “There is nothing in our basement, I know because I’ve been down there. You were just freaking yourself out. Mr. Whiley had a heart attack. That isn’t supernatural. It just happens sometimes.”
Had anyone else said it, Ana would never have believed it. But when her father’s reassurance wrapped around her like a warm blanket in December, he could have told her the moon was made of cheese and she would have believed it.
“I’m sorry.” She sniffled, running the back of her hand under her nose. “I guess I’m overreacting. I shouldn’t have called.”
Her father sighed. “No, I’m glad you did. It’s serious what happened to Mr. Whiley, but it’s not your fault. It’s your second night in a new house. It won’t be so bad once you’re more comfortable. I promise. For now, make yourself a warm drink and get some sleep. I’ll be home tomorrow and everything will be fine. Okay?”
Ana nodded even though she knew he couldn’t see it. “Yeah.”
“Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
“Hey, Ana?”
“Yeah?”
There was a pause, a hesitation, then, “Could you not tell your mom about this? She’ll just get all worked up and…” And start another fight. He didn’t say it, but it was there, hanging in the silence.
“Yeah,” she mumbled. “I won’t.”
“Thanks, honey. Good night.”
“Night.” Ana set the receiver down on its cradle and drew her legs up toward her chest.
He was right. There was nothing in the basement. It was stupid to get so excited about something that didn’t exist and the longer she sat there, cuddling her knees, staring out the window, the more certain she was she’d imagined it, just like the boy she’d imagined standing over the pond the night before. It had clearly been a trick of the light or maybe she’d seen Rafe and his date and imagined the glowing. What she couldn’t understand was how she went from having no hallucinations to having a slew of them the minute she moved into a new place. She raked her fingers through her hair. It was insane. Well, at least she hadn’t called her mother. The last thing she needed was to be taken to the town shrink and stuffed full of happy pills. What she was going through couldn’t be logically explained, thus wasn’t rational. No. She would just keep it to herself and hopefully her mother would never hear about it.
By morning, Ana was more convinced than ever that the whole thing was some seriously messed up trick of the brain. She blamed it on the change of scenery, the special kind of dust found only in BC, and good old overactive imagination. There was nothing that didn’t get a portion of the blame so that by the time the sun cut the horizon, she was fully prepared to face downstairs again.
She showered and dressed in jean shorts and a purple t-shirt that read, Ask Me What I’d Do For Chocolate, which had been a going away present from her best friend, Chelsea. Wearing it was almost like having the feisty redhead there, making bad jokes and stuffing her freckled face with Twizzlers — food of the Gods, as Chelsea liked to call them. The memories brought a pang to Ana’s gut and she was so tempted to call home, call Chels, Jamie and Lanie. But Chelsea’s parents had sent her to California to live with her father after the divorce. The idea of parting ways as best friends rather than the awkward call once every holiday friends had been a mutual decision. Lanie was at her grandparent’s cabin in Italy and hated talking on the phone at the best of times, and Jamie … Jamie was probably grounded for not quitting while he was ahead.
Homesick, Ana left her room, a relieved Mitzy at her heels. They parted at the landing. Ana went all the way down. Mitzy watched her with a look that wished very clearly for her to trip. Ana wondered what she’d done to make the cat so hostile, because surely he couldn’t still remember the one time in six years when she’d tumbled out of bed in the middle of the night, in the dark, and stomped on his tail. She glanced back and the cat deepened his scowl. Wow, talk about holding a grudge!
At the bottom, she paused, eyeing the basement door standing between her and her destination. Then scolded herself for hesitating.
“There is nothing down there!”
But even with her pep talk, she squared her shoulders, bunched her fists and all but ran the dozen steps between the stairs and the kitchen doorway. In the kitchen, she justified her silliness by deciding it was because she was hungry and in a hurry before she had to get Dad from the ferry terminal. That justification remained when she, after downing a bowl of cereal, went back and shoved every junk box Dad owned up against the door, blocking it. Satisfied that she had conquered her fears, Ana grabbed the truck keys and headed to the door. She grabbed the doorknob, twisted, pulled and yelped in surprise at finding a figure standing on her porch, arm raised, fist inches from her forehead.
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, slamming a hand over her rampaging heart. “What are you doing?”
Rafe offered her a sheepish grin as he stuffed his hands into the pockets of his black jeans. “Knocking?”
Baffled, Ana checked her watch. “It’s six in the morning. I could have been sleeping.”
He rocked a little on his heels. “Not unless you sleep with the lights on all night. My bedroom overlooks yours … more or less,” he explained when she stared at him suspiciously. “I mean I can see your window from
mine. I wasn’t spying or anything.” Was he really rambling? It was kind of cute. Much better than the jerk she’d met thus far. Then, his eyes fell to her front and his eyebrows went up. “What?”
Ana blinked, taken aback by his sudden question. “What?”
He jerked his chin towards her chest. “What would you do for chocolate?” His gaze, hot and dark rose up and met hers. “Because I may or may not have an entire box back home with your name on it.”
Hot, tempted and confused, Ana dropped her gaze to her shirt. “Oh!” Hot fingers of embarrassment crawled into her cheeks. She folded her arms. “It was a gift!” she said defensively.
He scratched his jaw, and Ana tried not to notice how nice of a jaw it was. “Huh.”
“What do you want?” she snapped.
For a second, he seemed confused by the question, like he couldn’t quite remember himself. “Oh!” He stepped back and waved a hand to the bottom of the stairs. There, standing side by side were a boy and a girl of about five. Both were staring at her — the girl sheepish and shy, the boy with a deep scowl of contempt.
Ana’s eyes widened, darting back to Rafe. “They’re not mine.”
It was Rafe’s turn to stare before his face broke into a devastating smile that lit up his eyes. He threw his head back and laughed. Ana watched him, still a little disorientated by the children to fully appreciate just how gorgeous the sound was.
“I’m serious!” she insisted when he finally sobered.
He straightened, shoving back the thick locks that had fallen over his eyes. “I know. They’re mine. Well, not mine-mine. They’re with me,” he explained when her eyebrows swooped up into her hairline. “This is Gabriella and Michael, my brother and sister.”
She would never have in a million years pegged these two as being related to the boy standing beside her on the porch. Both were tiny, pale and very blond, which was the polar opposite of Rafe who was tall, dark and golden.
Ana nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said, not sure what else to say, not sure why he was there, introducing his siblings to her.
“We lost our ball!” the boy cried, visibly annoyed at the delay in finding his toy.
“It fell into your pond,” the girl chimed, sinking a little more behind her brother until all Ana could make out were her big, blue eyes from over his shoulder.
“It’s six in the morning … in the summer,” she said again, slowly, like this fact seemed to be escaping everyone but her. Shouldn’t they be sleeping in or something?
“We’re five,” the boy said angrily, because evidently it being six in the morning, in the summer, meant very little to a five year old.
Ana’s eyes widened. “Both of you?”
“We’re fraternal twins,” the boy said, folding his arms, daring Ana to make something of it. Kid had attitude. “She’s little for her age. Now, about our ball?”
“Oh, right. Uh…!” She stole another peek at her watch, and then back at the two watching her. “Okay, I guess we should go get it then, right?”
Turning on her heels, she hurried back inside and towards the dining room where the bulk of their things were stashed.
“I know it’s here somewhere…” she mumbled to herself, peering around and over towers of boxes.
“Need help?” Rafe stepped into the doorway, hands buried in his pockets, gaze searching the chaos. “Whoa.”
“Yeah … and … uh…” She ducked beneath a set of skis bridging two stacks of boxes. “No, I got this. I just … ah ha!”
Tucked away in the far corner was her father’s old fishing equipment. Like most of his hobbies, he had enjoyed the calm of casting, then he’d got bored and moved on to something else, but in true Richard French style, he had kept all his fishing gear. Now, it sat collecting dust along with all his other junk. Only this time, Ana was glad he hadn’t thrown it out.
She grabbed the landing net and made her way back to where Rafe stood waiting. He looked at the net in her hand and grinned. Without thinking, she smiled back, passing him the net.
“Can you manage?” she asked. “I have to get my dad from the ferry.”
Their fingers brushed when he took it. Warm sparks shot up her arm, making her skin tingle. She jerked back in surprise.
“Sorry,” she mumbled sheepishly, rubbing the tips of her fingers on her thigh.
He was looking at her oddly, like he couldn’t quite figure out what to say. The intensity behind his gaze had her shifting her weight nervously from foot to foot.
She slicked her lips. “I should go.”
He blinked as if coming out of a trance. “Oh, right.”
She followed him out, locking the front door behind her. With a last wave at the three watching her, she climbed into the truck and pulled out in reverse.
Her dad’s ferry was just docking when she pulled into a parking spot and climbed out. She pocketed the keys and hurried to meet him.
“You remembered!” her father teased when he clambered off the giant white boat. “Here I was worried you’d forgotten all about me in your first taste of freedom.”
Ana rolled her eyes. “I’ve been alone before, Dad.”
He slung an arm around her shoulders and drew her into his side as they walked back to the truck. “What are you talking about? It was only yesterday you had your hair up in pigtails and demanded everyone call you Princess Ana.”
They reached the truck. Ana pulled away. “You’re right. What was I thinking?”
He patted her shoulder. “It’s okay. That whole memory issue, I hear it gets worse with age.”
Giving him a playful shove, Ana rounded the truck and climbed into the passenger’s seat. Her dad got into the seat beside her and extended his hand. With a remorseful sigh, she dropped the keys into his palm.
“Hello, baby,” he crooned to the truck, stroking the steering wheel. “Yes, I missed you, too.”
Ana just shook her head, smothering her laugh.
There were thirteen missed calls on the machine when they got home. All thirteen were from Mom.
“Ana? Where are you? I see the lines were hooked up. Now answer the phone!”
Beep!
“Ana, it’s Mom. Answer the phone!”
Beep!
“What is this I hear about some guy dying in my house?”
Beep!
“Answer the phone, Ana! Now!”
Beep!
“Richard, if you’re listening to this, why is your cell off? Have you talked to Ana? What the hell is going on over there! Someone better phone me or God help me I will come up there and…” Her voice faded as she pulled the receiver away from her ear. “No I don’t want the teal color! What kind of assistant are you? The green one. Yes.” Then she was back, her voice louder. “Richard! Call me!”
Her father blanched. “Ah man! How did she find out from a hundred and forty-one miles way?”
Ana shrugged. “It’s that scary Mom Magic, I guess. Kind of like how she has eyes in the back of her head and can smell fear from a mile away.”
Dad sighed, rifling a hand through his hair. “I am never going to hear the end of this.”
While Dad called Mom and explained to her what had happened and that nobody died, Ana went upstairs to finish the rest of her unpacking. There were only four boxes, but instead of heading for them, she went to the window and peered out. No ball in the pond, she noticed. Part of her wondered why Rafe hadn’t just fished the ball out instead of dragging his brother and sister to her front door, but that was just another added mystery to the package that was Rafael. The guy made no sense to her whatsoever.
“Ana!”
She was in the process of crushing the last box when her father’s booming voice reverberated up the stairs, down the hall to swarm her room like a cannon fire. The part of her brain that recognized annoyance in her father’s tone, prickled. Apprehensive and mind scrambling to create an excuse for whatever she was about to be reprimanded for, Ana hurried downstairs.
“Yeah?” Sh
e got to the bottom of the stairs and blinked. “Rafe?”
He stood just inside the foyer, hands in his pocket, looking very uncomfortable in the presence of her scowling father. He glanced up when she joined them and gave an acknowledging nod.
“So you have met,” her father said slowly, frowning down at her as if talking to anyone from the opposite sex was just the worst crime ever committed. “I was wondering why he was returning my fishing net.”
Ana rolled her eyes. “Chill, Dad! He borrowed it to get his brother’s ball out of the pond.”
Dad pursed his lips. “Yes, that’s what he told me.”
Having gone through this song and dance when she’d become friends with Jamie, Ana just wasn’t as intimidated by the overprotective act as she used to be. But then again, she had never had an inexplicable urge to rake her fingers through Jamie’s hair the way she did Rafe’s, so maybe her father did have a little more cause for concern. Nevertheless, no matter how hot Rafe was, Ana wasn’t stupid enough to fall for a boy like him.
Shaking her head, Ana turned to Rafe, offering him an apologetic smile. “Thanks for bringing it back.”
Staring just an inch above her head, Rafe nodded. “Yeah, no problem.”
“Guess your brother was happy to get his ball back?”
Again, he nodded, slower this time. “Yeah. He said to tell you thanks.”
Somehow, she couldn’t see that coming from the grumpy little boy. “No problem.”
Seconds passed, each more suffocating than the last. Her father continued to watch them — or rather slowly magnify-roast Rafe like an ant at a picnic. Even the way he held the net, like a baseball bat over his shoulder said very loudly just how much he disapproved of the boy darkening his doorway and committing the ultimate crime — being within a hundred miles of his daughter. Ana could only sigh and pray to be evaporated on the spot.
It was Rafe who broke the palpable silence. “I should…” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder, already inching backwards towards the door. “I’ll catch you later.”
Betraying Innocence Page 5
