Ana
With their expulsion, things should have gotten easier. They stayed out of town and away from the scrutinizing eyes of the town folk, yet that didn’t stop them from waking up in the morning with the front of their homes decorated with rotten eggs, toilet paper streamers and dog crap burning in paper bags on the front porch. Dan found the latter while on his way to get the morning paper. It would have been hilarious had he not made Rafe clean it up afterwards. Ana was beginning to wonder which was worse, Johnny terrorizing them or the personal vendetta of an entire town campaigning to run them out. It amazed her how little they cared whether or not Ana and Rafe actually committed the crime. To everyone else, they were already guilty.
“They’re sheep,” Rafe said one afternoon as they lay curled up on her sofa.
They were supposed to be watching TV, but neither was in the mood so they sat with it on mute on some cartoon. Her parents and his mom were in the kitchen, discussing strategy, which gave Ana and Rafe room to talk without being overheard, not that they had much to talk about. They had no new leads on Johnny. Peter Carrick had vanished after they’d confronted him and they still had no leads on how to find the other guy. And after Vinny’s death, Johnny had all but disappeared. There were still nights they heard him rapping on the walls, opening doors and moving things in the kitchen but that was the extent of it.
“My dad was so angry this morning when he saw the message on the front door,” she whispered, keeping her voice low.
“What did it say?”
“Murderer.” She rubbed a hand over her face. “I don’t know how much longer they’re going to put up with this.”
His fingers continued combing through her hair where it fanned across his chest. “Yeah, mine too. I heard Mom and Dan talking about moving to Lakewood. Dan was doing most of the talking, but Mom sounded like she was beginning to agree with him.”
She raised her head off his shoulder to peer into his eyes. “Mine want to go back to Ontario.”
He exhaled. “We need to end this.”
“How? We’ve tried everything.”
He shook his head. “I don’t know.”
No sooner had he spoken when the TV began to flicker. It began rapidly switching through channels, faster and faster until it was a blur.
Ana quickly sat up, Rafe doing the same behind her.
“Johnny?” she whispered, getting to her feet.
The flickering slowed.
Silence. It ticked by with crippling slowness. It filled every corner of the slumbering house so the only sound was the crack of her heart in her ears as she held her breath and waited. Her limbs trembled with the cold that had begun to conquer the room. It seemed to rise slowly up her body, seeping onto her skin. Their breaths plumed a foggy white before their eyes and she shivered. Her arms drew up to wrap around herself.
The cold continued to push against them, trapping them in its icy tomb. Strands of her hair were lifted, twisted around invisible fingers. Her clothes were fisted and jerked. She was shoved from behind. Ana gasped as she staggered forward, catching herself on the coffee table.
Rafe was instantly on his feet, his hand an iron shackle around her wrist. “Look, you need to back off!” he hissed, dragging Ana to him. “We have no idea what you want.”
The room temperature solidified, becoming warm once more. Had it not been for the ache between her shoulder blades, she could have sworn she’d imagined it.
“Kill them!”
Ana jumped at the unexpected shout. Her gaze swung to the TV as it zipped through channels again, stopping only to spit out the same two words over and over again.
“Kill them! Kill them! Kill them! Kill them!”
Rafe lunged behind the TV and yanked out the cord. The screen flipped to black.
“We’re not murderers,” he snapped, pitching the wire aside and moving to stand next to Ana again. “We don’t kill people.”
A sharp snap filled the room, the sound of glass crunching beneath a blow. They whirled around just as a family portrait shuddered on the wall and slid off, breaking into a million pieces across the floor.
“You have a bruise.” Rafe replaced the soft brush of his fingertips with his lips, planting warm kisses to the skin between her shoulder blades.
Lying face down on her bed, wide awake with her arms folded beneath her cheek, Ana shook her head. “I don’t feel it anymore.”
His slow exhale washed along her bare skin. “He’s lucky he’s already dead.”
“I understand why he’s angry and why he would want the people responsible to pay, but…” She rolled over onto her back, dragging the sheets up around with her until she was facing him. “Doesn’t he realize we can’t do it?”
“I don’t think he does,” he murmured. “I think he’s completely consumed by his need for vengeance. I’ve read about spirits who die angry and anger is all they know.”
She looked at him. “I don’t think he’s angry, Rafe. I think he’s sad.”
“He’s crazy, is what he is. You can’t just kill people and get away with it.”
“His killers did.”
“Yeah well, we’re not killers.”
She dropped her gaze to the sheets she’d twisted around her fingers. “I killed Vinny.”
“Johnny killed Vinny,” Rafe corrected her sharply. “You had nothing to do—”
“I told him to come over, Rafe. I’m the reason he was here. Then I completely forgot about asking him to find the blueprints so I wasn’t even here to protect him when he came.”
“Do you really think you could protect him if Johnny wanted him?”
Ana shook her head. “I’ll never know.”
“You know what I don’t understand?” He shifted his weight higher on the bed, rising up on his elbows to peer down at her. “You’ve seen Johnny at school and we’ve both seen him in the backyard, so why can’t he just poof himself into his killer’s homes and kill them himself?”
She shrugged. “Maybe he doesn’t know where they are? Or maybe he can’t.”
“Maybe. It certainly would have made our lives easier.”
Sharp fingers of ice shackled around the bare flesh of her ankle and she was dragged down the mattress, ripping Ana cruelly from the warm arms of sleep. She bolted upright, her heart a trapped animal in her throat. She stared into the darkness, her hands trembling as she pulled the sheets to her chest. Her free hand went to the warm, slumbering body next to hers and he became instantly awake.
“Ana?”
“Something’s wrong,” she whispered.
Rafe leapt over her and reached for his jeans. He yanked them on as she threw on her own things. He padded quickly to the switch and flipped it on. Ana flinched at the sudden explosion of light.
“What is it?” he asked.
She shook her head, absently rubbing at a tender spot on her ankle where a bright, red welt had manifested. “I don’t know. I was—”
The light flipped off, pitching them back into darkness. She was only vaguely aware of Rafe moving across the room to stand next to her. A chill swept through the room, so thick and tangible, she felt ice crystals form along her skin. Her hair crackled as though she’d gone out in the middle of winter with a wet head.
“W … what’s going on?”
Rafe never got the chance to answer when a low, creaking whine filled the room. They spun around as ice spider webbed across her window, weaving an intricate design of swirls. Ana hurried forward, ignoring Rafe’s protest as she climbed up on her window seat and pressed her face against the glass. The ice bit into her palms, but she ignored it as she squinted into the darkness.
For a moment, she saw nothing but the yard, the broken fence and the dark, quiet house across from hers. Then she saw the flicker of light. It was quick, like it was moving, but there was no mistaking the orange glow.
“Oh my God!” Bolting off the window seat, she dashed for the door. “Dad! Dad, wake up!”
There was a scuffle in her par
ent’s bedroom seconds before the door was thrown open and her father stood in the hallway in his flannel bottoms.
“Ana?” His gaze shot past her to where Rafe stood in her doorway in nothing but unfastened jeans, then back to her. “What—?”
“Someone’s outside,” she panted. “They’re setting the house on fire.”
He never stopped to question her. He blew past her and thundered down the steps. Her mother was a step behind him, calling over her shoulder for Ana to call the police.
“I’m going with your dad,” Rafe said, already giving chase, leaving Ana alone on the second floor landing.
Heart hammering, she ran into her parent’s room. She grabbed the phone off the nightstand and dialed.
A woman picked up on the other end, their voice crackling with static. Ana pressed a hand over her ear, the one not cradling the receiver, like that would somehow make the static less.
“Hello? Hello? My name is… Hello? There’s a fire, I need…”
She smacked the plastic on her palm.
“Hello?” she shouted louder.
“Sheriff’s … emergency…”
“Yes, this is an emergency!” she snapped. “Someone’s setting a fire to my house!”
“Location…?”
Ana gave the woman her address, speaking slowly, but loudly. Then she repeated it two more times before tossing the receiver down on the bed and running downstairs.
Both her parents and Rafe stood in the foyer with the door open to the night. They turned when Ana reached them.
“I called,” she said, breathing hard although she hadn’t really done anything. “I don’t know if they heard me. The reception was horrible.” She peered past them to the darkness. “What happened? Was someone there?”
“Someone was there all right,” her father said tightly, the tendons along the back of his fists going white. He snapped on his heels and marched down the hall to the kitchen.
Her mom shut the door and hurried after him. Rafe and Ana exchanged glances before following.
“Took off when we came out,” her father growled, planting his hands on the island. “The bushes along the side of the house are gone, but the house seems to be all right.”
“Did you see who it was?” she asked, lowering herself down on the stool.
Dad shook his head. “Probably some little punk.” He slammed a fist down on the tiled countertop. “Unbelievable the length some people will go. Petty vandalism is one thing, but to set a person’s house on fire? Don’t they realize we could have died?” He scrubbed at his face with both hands. “That was the last straw. We need to leave. I can’t keep staying here, worrying that my family might die in their sleep. First thing tomorrow, I’m calling in a transfer at work. I don’t care where. We’re leaving as soon as the paperwork goes through.”
Chapter Thirty-One
Ana
The bushes along the side of the house were nothing more than brittle bits of charred twigs and dirt. Ana stared at the mess under the fading light of autumn and sighed. The resemblance to her life was a little uncanny — charred remains of what had once been a thriving life.
“Ana?” Her mother appeared on the front porch, a dishrag twisted in her hands.
Since Vinny’s death, her parents had already decided not to leave her alone, but after the arson attack, they refused to let her out of their sight. It was a sheer miracle she was allowed to be alone in the bathroom. Ana didn’t mind so much, except things had become extra tense since no one wanted to talk about why Rafe had been in her room that night and why he’d been nearly naked. She knew her parents weren’t stupid and had probably put the pieces together, but she kept wondering when her dad would just snap and throttle Rafe. This new and accepting father was strange compared to the one who had been ready to beat any guy who came near her with a bat only months ago.
“I’m here.”
Her mother stepped off the porch and went to stand next to her. They stared at the bushes in silence for several minutes.
“I really liked those,” her mother said finally. “Maybe the new owners will replant them.”
Ana turned to her. “Do we have to move?”
“Well, we can’t stay here, not after everything that has been happening. It’s just too dangerous.”
“But isn’t it kind of like running away?”
Her mother turned to her, her expression fierce. “Normally you know I would stand my ground and fight, but this is your life and your father’s life we’re talking about. I won’t take reckless chances with those I care about.” She squared her shoulders. “Now come inside. I don’t like you being out here alone.”
Resigned, Ana followed her mother inside and shut the door. They walked into the kitchen where she was passed the dishrag.
“Where are we moving to?” she asked.
“Not sure yet.” Ana was passed a plate to dry. “We’re waiting for your father’s boss to approve his request to transfer back.”
“Back? Like back to Ontario?” She dried and put the plate away, returning to take the cup she was handed.
“If possible.”
She stowed the cup into the cupboard. “Mom, I really don’t want to move.”
She was handed a spoon. “Why’s that?”
“Jack and the others for one. Chipawaha Creek has kind of grown on me.”
“Well, if we return, you’ll get to see Chelsea and—”
“I already told you about that. Chelsea and I decided it was better for our friendship if we parted ways after the move. It was just too painful.”
“Well, you can make new friends wherever we go.”
Ana sighed. “But I don’t want to make new friends … again. I kind of want to stay here.”
“This is about Rafe, isn’t it?”
Carefully avoiding her mother’s gaze, Ana shrugged. “I really care about him, Mom. Like a lot.”
Her mom wrung the sponge out, unplugged the sink and took the rag from Ana to dry her hands, all the while watching her.
“I’ve been wanting to talk to you about him. Your father asked me not to.”
Ana blinked, her eyebrows disappearing into her hairline. “Dad asked you not to? Is he secretly plotting to kill Rafe in his sleep?”
Mom laughed, moving to hang the dishrag over the handle bars on the stove. “No, I think he likes Rafe in his own way. Your father may be over possessive at times, but he’s not blind or stupid. He might not like that you’re so close with a boy, but the alternative probably scares him more.”
Ana frowned. “What alternative?”
Her mom took a stool out from under the island and sat. Ana followed.
“I think he suspects that Rafe plays a big part in keeping you safe. He won’t jeopardize that. I, on the other hand, would like some answers.”
Ana grimaced. “What kind of answers?”
“Like what was he doing in your room the night of the fire and how long has it been going on?”
Color leached into her cheeks, turning them a bright pink. “I asked him to stay with me after what happened to Vinny,” she lied, knowing it was easier to explain than telling them she’d been staying at his house for weeks. “I was too scared to be alone.”
Her mom arched an eyebrow. “That’s it?”
Ana traced circles in the tiles making up the island, tactfully avoiding the other woman’s gaze. She nodded.
“And you’re being careful? Being safe?”
Just when she didn’t think the conversation could get any more awkward.
“Mom…”
Her mom threw her hands up. “Well, it’s an important question, Ana. I need to make sure you’re taking steps to protect yourself. The last thing we need right now is … is a surprise.”
“Geez!” She rubbed a hand over her face, feeling the heat coming off her skin. She let her hands drop and forced herself to meet her mother’s gaze. “Yes, we’re being safe.”
Seemingly satisfied, her mother nodded. “Okay, good.
Condoms?”
“Oh my God!” Ana leapt off her stool and stalked to the fridge.
“I’m just asking!” She waited until Ana had grabbed a glass of orange juice and was in her seat again before continuing. “Condoms are great, but they’re not always reliable. Maybe we should making an appointment to—”
The phone rang then and Ana had never been so happy for a distraction as her mother hurried to answer it.
It wasn’t as though she’d never had the talk with her mother before. She’d known what sex was since she’d gotten her period. It had been awkward even then, but it felt extra weird now that she was actually doing the deed. It was weirder still that her parents knew about it. True they’d never insisted she wait until marriage, but she’d always known they secretly hoped she would. At least wait until college.
She exhaled, taking a sip of her drink.
Her mom hung up the phone and returned to the island.
“That was the sheriff’s department,” she said, a tightness bracketing her mouth. “They have some questions for you.”
“Hello again, Ms. French.” Sheriff Drewer leered at her from under his enormous cowboy hat as she followed her mom into the sheriff’s department an hour later.
The place was cluttered with rows of desks and chairs. There were doors lining the walls and a set of stairs leading to a second floor, but despite all that, there was hardly anyone there, except the sheriff and a handful of officers.
“I was told this would be brief,” her mother said, resting a hand on Ana’s shoulder.
The sheriff spared her mom a fleeting glance, but his attention was focused solely on Ana. “That all depends on how much Ana is willing to cooperate.”
“Fully,” her mother insisted. “We want to put this behind us as well.”
Drewer said nothing as he motioned Ana to follow him. He led them through one of the openings into a cramped little space with a metal table bolted to the ground and metal chairs on either side.
“Have a seat,” he said, motioning to the chairs. “I just need a word with your mother outside.”
Ana shuffled to the closest chair and lowered herself into it. The door was shut behind her and she was left alone in a room that felt like the inside of an icebox. She sat stooped in her chair, hands tucked between her knees, shivering as she waited for the sheriff to return.
Betraying Innocence Page 28
