“Well, take it from me,” he said. “You just give it a week with that Bonner bitch as your roommate and that Goodwin skank as your teacher, and you’ll know you should have listened to your old friend Lance. They’re both bad news. You want another tip?”
“Not particularly.”
“If you’re heading back to your bungalow after this, you can save yourself about six blocks by taking the shortcut through the woods. Just hang a right when you step out the door here.”
With a sigh, Eden faced forward again.
“Are you listening?” he said, raising his voice a little. “Hang a right, go to the dry cleaners on the corner, take another right, and you’ll see the woods across the street—and a little trail. It takes you directly to Saint Agnes Village. You’ll save yourself at least fifteen minutes. Are you listening to me?”
“Stop annoying the other customers,” Roseann grumbled as she approached his booth. She slapped a check on the table in front of him. “She’s too young for you anyway, lover boy.”
“Looks like it’s about to rain out there,” he said. “I’m just telling her about the shortcut back to her bungalow.”
And I was just about to tell you to fuck off, Eden thought. But she didn’t even look his way. He gave her the creeps. Glancing in the opposite direction, she could see his reflection in the restaurant’s darkened plate glass window.
He got to his feet. “Take it easy, honey,” he murmured.
Eden kept her head turned away. In the reflecting window, she watched him swagger toward the exit, the beer tucked under his arm. He stepped outside.
Roseann refilled her coffee cup.
“Who was that?” Eden asked. “Do you know him?”
“That’s just Lance,” she sighed. “He’s on the custodial staff at the college. He does some landscaping, too. He’s also a terrible tipper. He had a snoot-full tonight. I think he has a problem. He’s always sneaking beer in here, like he’s fooling everybody. I’d have to be blind not to catch on. Anyway, I’m sorry if he was bothering you. He’s harmless enough.”
Ten minutes later, when Eden stepped out of the Sunnyside Up Café, she realized the rumbling sound she’d heard earlier hadn’t been a truck passing by. It had been thunder. She felt the wind kicking up. Some trash and leaves scattered past her as she headed down the block. She saw a flash of lightning over the lake. For a second the whole sky was illuminated.
It hadn’t started to rain yet, but it looked like it might pour at any minute. She remembered Lance’s “tip” about the shortcut back to St. Agnes Village. Was he on the level?
Eden turned, and at the end of the block, she saw the dry cleaners he’d mentioned. When she reached the corner, she looked to her right at the darkened woods. Tree branches swayed and rustled with the wind. It seemed like the whole forest was alive and moving.
She couldn’t help thinking he was in those woods, waiting for her. But he’d left the restaurant at least twenty minutes ago. Besides, hadn’t the waitress said he was harmless?
From across the street, she could make out a break in the trees. Eden figured it was the foot trail he’d told her about.
Eden told herself that she’d save walking at least six blocks.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Thursday, 11:52 P.M.
Hannah sat up in bed. Through the window, a streetlamp outside provided just enough light to see everything in the small bedroom—including the empty bed across from her.
Eden had been gone six hours. And it was raining out, not the dull, monotonous Seattle type of rain Hannah was used to. This was a downpour with thunder and lightning. She’d purchased a fan earlier in the evening, and it had cooled the bedroom down. She’d also left the window open. The ugly beige curtains billowed with the breeze from the storm. Hannah thought about getting up and checking the windowsill to see if any rain was coming through the screen. But then she figured, if Eden’s bed got wet, she deserved it.
This was so typical of her half-sister. She literally didn’t have sense enough to come in out of the rain.
After Rachel and Alden had left earlier tonight, Hannah had unpacked, showered, and gotten a feel for the bungalow that would be her home for the next nine months. While upstairs, she couldn’t resist checking out Rachel’s bedroom—despite the closed door. It was gorgeous and roomy with a queen-size bed; more sleek, mid-century modern design furniture; an amazing, huge framed print of the Eiffel Tower; and a plush shag rug. Rachel even had a vase with freshly cut flowers on her desk—along with a silver-framed black-and-white photo of a sexy, handsome young man. It looked like an old high school graduation portrait. Hannah put it together from a collage of photos on Rachel’s bulletin board that the stud in the silver frame must have been Rachel’s father. It was weird to see him age—getting balder and paunchier—in so many pictures. Hannah also noticed there was only one photo of Rachel’s mother—in a shot with Mr. Bonner.
The bedroom was about thirty degrees cooler than the rest of the bungalow, thanks to the air conditioner humming in the window.
Hannah had hoped that Rachel and Alden would come back in time for the three of them to have dinner together, but no such luck. By eight o’clock she was starting to feel totally abandoned—and hungry. She texted Eden:
Where R U? Alone here at Bung 20. Want 2 go eat?
No reply, of course. She shouldn’t have been surprised. Eden had probably switched off her phone again.
Hannah called home and talked to everyone. Earlier, she’d been afraid that, upon hearing her parents’ voices, she’d burst into tears. But it was her mother who lost it and started crying. “We miss you so much, honey!” she said, her voice all broken and weepy. Apparently Hannah’s twelve-year-old brother, Gabe, kept going into her empty bedroom and coming out with this melancholy look on his face that absolutely broke her mom’s heart. Her mother made it sound more like Hannah was dead than just away at school.
Everyone expected to talk to Eden, too, of course. Hannah told them that she’d gone off by herself two hours before and was incommunicado.
“Why am I not surprised?” her mother sighed. “Well, when she re-appears, have her call us. Okay?”
After hanging up with her folks, Hannah stuck a Post-it note on the bedroom door:
E—
Gone to the student union for dinner. Call home when you get this.
8:15
The student union was in a big, modern glass-and-steel building that included a coffee shop, Campus Grounds, and a 7-Eleven type of market, the Grub Hub. Hannah had a feeling both spots would be her salvation in the months ahead. The union was like one huge bar—with two pool tables, dart boards, pinball and video game machines, and a couple of strategically located TVs. It was also air-conditioned, thank God. On the wall behind the counter-bar was a chalkboard menu of Italian sodas, juice drinks, and coffee specialties. Exposed pipes, beams, and ducts ran along the ceiling, and concrete support posts were staggered every twenty feet or so. There were about twenty-five people—mostly girls—eating and drinking at the tables. It didn’t seem like much of a crowd for such a large space. Hannah guessed most of them were freshmen, like her. She’d hoped against hope that Rachel and Alden might be among the diners, but she didn’t see them anywhere. Some students sat in couples or groups, making Hannah wonder how these people knew each other when they’d all just arrived today. Were they all from the same high school?
Or maybe they just had roommates who hadn’t deserted them.
Several students ate alone, staring at their smartphones so that they wouldn’t look utterly pathetic. Hannah figured that was what she’d have to do.
She sat down at a table close to the entrance so that, if Eden showed up, she’d find her easily. The laminated handwritten menu had eight food selections. Hannah decided on the Cobb salad, and then glanced around for a waitperson. Or did they even have servers? Maybe she was supposed to go up to the counter and order her stupid dinner.
She hated this.
She should have sat near someone else that was alone—and then she could have asked what the hell she was supposed to do to get some dinner in this dump. She might have struck up a friendship, too, if only a temporary one.
She noticed a couple of girls, a chubby blonde and a pretty brunette, about three tables over. They both wore Our Lady of the Cove T-shirts, which Hannah thought was kind of pathetic for any freshman to do on her first day here. But they looked friendly enough, and they smiled in her direction. So Hannah smiled back. Then the brunette got to her feet, waved, and signaled like she wanted her to come over and join them.
Hannah was so grateful. Even if they were total dipshits, at least they were nice enough to invite her over. She waved back and started to stand—just as another girl walked past her. The other girl wore an Our Lady of the Cove T-shirt, too.
Standing there for a moment, Hannah watched the new arrival join her friends at the other table. The blonde whispered something to her two friends, and they all laughed.
Hannah shrank back into her chair. Had they noticed her making an ass out of herself? Was that why they were giggling? She gazed down at the tabletop and started to count to herself. In thirty seconds, she’d get up, walk out, and find something to eat at the Grub Hub. She didn’t care if it was a stale hot dog that had been on one of those rotisserie things since Tuesday—just as long as she didn’t have to sit here alone.
After twenty-three seconds, she became aware of someone standing beside her table. Hannah figured it was the waitperson, and she hesitated before looking up.
“Please tell me that you haven’t ordered yet, because the food here really sucks.”
Rachel was smiling down at her.
Hannah sprung to her feet. She almost wanted to hug her.
Ten minutes later, they were headed to town, walking through a residential section with beautiful, big old homes. The tree-lined street ran alongside a bluff overlooking the beach. The sky was darkening and ominous over Lake Michigan. It looked like a storm was rolling in. Hannah could feel the wind picking up and the temperature dropping.
Rachel explained that she’d seen her note to Eden on the bedroom door. She apologized for running off earlier. Alden had needed to pick up a pair of prescription eyeglasses at Target in Lake Bluff. “It didn’t dawn on us until we got there,” Rachel said. “We should have invited you along. You probably need stuff for your room or groceries. Anyway, we can still pick up anything you need while we’re here in town tonight.”
Hannah asked where Alden was. With Riley out of the picture—if not completely, then at least until a week from Saturday—she couldn’t help wondering about Alden.
Rachel shrugged. “Beats me. I dropped him off at his dorm about fifteen minutes ago.”
As they approached the town, Hannah spotted her first firefly. She wanted to chase it, cup it in her hands, and watch it light up. Rachel was amused. “God, you’re like a little kid! It’s just a lightning bug.”
“Well, they don’t have them in Seattle,” she replied, out of breath. She gave up on the chase. There was something so magical about the glowing insect—and this moment with her cool, sophisticated “big sister.” Just minutes ago, she’d been so alone and depressed. But Rachel had come to her rescue, and they were on their way to have dinner together. A part of her was actually glad Eden had disappeared. It would have been a real drag to have her half-sister along.
In a cozy Italian restaurant called Bellini’s, they ate the most delicious pizza Hannah had ever tasted. She’d never seen pizza cut in squares before, but apparently, that was how they did it in Chicago.
They were just finishing up dinner when Hannah worked Alden into the conversation again. She finally had the nerve to ask: “So—are you guys like—dating or anything?”
“Me and Alden?” Rachel laughed. “God, no. He’s practically like my brother. We grew up together. His mother was a maid in our house, an Irish girl, and single. She died from a brain tumor about ten years ago. But Alden stayed on—with the house staff looking after him, well, the house staff and me. And now he’s looking after me. At least, that’s what my father thinks about the setup. Alden started here last year. My parents are paying for it.” She picked up a square of pizza, but then seemed to change her mind about eating it and put it back. “Anyway, no, Alden and I aren’t dating. Why do you ask? If you’re interested in him, you’re shit out of luck. Alden will deny it until he’s purple in the face, but I’m ninety-nine percent sure he’s gay as a Christmas goose. Or he’s at least a Kinsey five.”
“Oh, I wasn’t interested,” Hannah lied. She tried to hide her disappointment and fiddled with a breadstick. She should have known. He seemed too good to be true.
Rachel sipped her Diet Coke. “I didn’t want to ask you this in front of Alden earlier. But how is it with your dad? I mean, I’ve read such terrible things about him screwing around all the time, but he really can’t be that awful.”
Making a face, Hannah squirmed in her chair. “I used to think I was so lucky. Most of my friends, their parents are divorced, or if their parents are still together, they can’t stand each other. But my mom and dad seemed happy, always hugging and kissing, very lovey-dovey, almost nauseatingly so. As far as fathers go, my dad seemed pretty cool. I mean, all my girlfriends thought so. Then the shit hit the fan, and I found out he was this sleazy serial cheater. And so did everyone else, because the whole thing became a media sensation. Anyway, while all that was happening, he was laid up in the hospital with major injuries—”
Rachel nodded. “Yeah, I read that he was shot and crashed his car.”
“As angry as I was, I kind of felt sorry for him, too,” Hannah admitted. “But I couldn’t really forgive him, y’know? I don’t think I ever will. He hasn’t been the same since all this happened. He doesn’t even look the same—thanks to the accident.” She shrugged and worked up a smile. “Anyway, aren’t you sorry you asked?”
“Not at all,” Rachel murmured. She actually seemed fascinated. “I read something about your dad and your aunt having an affair. Is that true? Him and your mom’s sister?”
Hannah snapped the breadstick in half. “Yep, it’s true.”
“What was she like? Or don’t you want to talk about it?”
“Oh, I don’t mind talking about it with you,” Hannah said. “Actually, I never knew her. She died before I was even born. It was a suicide. She took a swan dive off the roof of a high-rise apartment building.”
“Yeah, I read about that, too. But did your mom or dad ever say anything about her?”
“Up until two years ago, my younger brothers and I had no idea she even existed.” Hannah sighed. “My parents kept it a secret that she had a kid sister. But last year, I got my mom to open up about her. Her name was Molly, and I guess she was a major flake—really irresponsible, sort of a wild child. But she was pretty. My mom was so mad at her about the affair that she destroyed every photo of Molly she had. Then a couple of years ago, she had a change of heart and contacted some of Molly’s high school and college friends for any pictures they’d saved. She managed to track down a few. I’ve seen them. Molly really was a knockout. Anyway, I don’t know much else about her. It’s not like my mom and dad talk about her. And for obvious reasons, bringing her up in a conversation with them tends to be a real buzz-kill.”
“That’s so sad,” Rachel whispered. She must have meant it, too, because she actually had tears in her eyes. “I feel so sorry for her . . .”
“I feel a lot sorrier for my mother,” Hannah said. “Anyway, enough about my parents. That’s one big soap opera. What about your folks?”
Rachel wiped her eyes with her napkin. “What about them?”
“I don’t know,” Hannah said. She’d thought she should change the subject so the conversation wasn’t only about her. “Are you all close?”
Rachel shrugged. “Yes and no. It’s your standard poor little rich girl story. When I was growing up, my dad was away a lot on business. My mother was a
n heiress. Dad took over her father’s company and made it into this huge corporation. I was raised mostly by a series of nannies and household staff members. If it weren’t for Alden, I’d have been awfully lonely. I don’t have any brothers or sisters or cousins. But I always had great birthday parties, packed with my father’s business associates’ kids and a ton of presents. I made quite a haul every Christmas, too. It’s still that way. Anything I want, I just ask for, and I usually get it. My dad sort of dotes on me now. I think it’s to make up for all the time he wasn’t around when I was a kid. He’s really overprotective. That’s why I’m going to school here. It’s only forty-five minutes away.” She made a face. “My mom and I don’t exactly get along. She’s the Botox queen of the Gold Coast. It’s gotten so her expression never changes. I honestly can’t tell anymore if she’s mad at me or happy. I’m terrified I’ll grow up to be just like her, because she was an only child, too. And I’m an heiress, like her. She went to school here, too.”
“Was she here when those murders happened?” Hannah asked.
“No, that was like fifty years ago. She came here years after that. She’s fifty-seven.” Rachel glanced at her wristwatch. “God, it’s twenty to ten. I didn’t realize it was so late. The Jewel’s closing soon. We better get going. I’m buying you guys a fan for your bedroom. It was like a sauna when I was smudging in there this afternoon.” She waved at the waiter. “Dante! Check, please—and could you box this up?” She pointed to what was left of their pizza.
Hannah reached into her purse, but Rachel insisted on paying for dinner, since she’d invited her. Hannah thought it was a pretty sweet deal having a rich roommate.
Minutes later, they stepped out of Bellini’s—right into the beginnings of a thunderstorm. The rain was just starting to come down—sporadic, heavy drops.
The two of them hurried across the street to take cover under some shop awnings. Hannah spotted the sign for the Jewel-Osco supermarket down at the end of the next block. Delmar’s main drag was only three blocks long and didn’t even have a stop light. She figured it was about a mile back to St. Agnes Village—and they were going in the opposite direction.
The Bad Sister Page 8
