Twisted

by Jo Gibson

  Lexie nodded and Tommy started to smile. “I know one Yiddish word. It’s tuchus!”

  “What?“ Lexie’s face turned bright red. “Where did you hear that?”

  “We were fixing the roof on a guy’s house last summer, and I heard him tell his wife that he was crazy about her tuchus. Is it some kind of food?”

  Lexie couldn’t keep a straight face. She laughed so hard, tears of mirth ran down her cheeks. “I’m not going to tell you. But I think they had a very good marriage!”

  They were all laughing, imagining the worst, when Tim held up his hand. “I think the bulldozer’s about to break through. It sounds much closer now.”

  “Then it’s time to make a decision.” Jennifer turned to face the group. “People are going to ask questions about what happened up at the lodge. What do you think we should say?”

  There was another silence, while they all considered it carefully. They’d talked about it after they’d heard the explosion and seen the giant fireball light up the sky. The lodge had blown up and Dale was dead. Should they tell the authorities exactly what had happened? Or would it be kinder to all the families if they thought their loved ones had died in the explosion?

  Brian had raised another point. If they told everyone that Dale was a serial killer, his father’s political career could be ruined. Dalton Prescott was a good man and he made an excellent senator. If people knew the truth about his son, they might not vote for him.

  “We’ve had all night to think about it.” Tim took a deep breath. “Let’s make our decision. Brian? You go first.”

  Brian cleared his throat. “I think we should say it was an accident and we don’t know how it happened. There was a big explosion and we were lucky to be outside at the time.”

  “Sounds good to me,” Tommy agreed. “It’s clean, it’s simple, and there’s no evidence left to prove us wrong. I keep thinking about Kelly’s family. They’re finally beginning to get over her death. If we tell them that she was murdered, it’s going to cause them even more grief.“

  “I agree with Tommy,” Lexie said. “And don’t forget that we’re not actually lying. The lodge did blow up with everyone else inside.”

  “Jen?”

  “I agree. If we tell everything that happened, no one will believe us anyway. It’s so weird, it sounds like we made it up.”

  “Okay. It’s unanimous.” Tim smiled at Jennifer. “But we have to make a pact. It’ll be our secret, just the five of us. And if we need to talk about it, we’ll be there for each other.”

  “Agreed.” Jennifer reached out to put her hand on Tim’s. And then Tommy put his hand on hers, and Lexie put her hand on Tommy’s, and Brian reached out to touch Lexie’s hand to seal their pact.

  “I’m really glad we decided to say it was accidental.” Brian gave a big sigh of relief. “I sure wouldn’t want to try to explain that audio!”

  Lexie turned to look at Brian in surprise. “What’s to explain? You told us how you made it. Miss Voelker videoed the spring play and you just pieced Kelly’s words together.”

  “That’s true, but it’s not what I mean. Do you remember the last thing Kelly said as we drove away?”

  “I’ll never forget it.” Jennifer shivered. “It was really chilling. Kelly said, Now I’m going to take my revenge. You murdered me, Dale!”

  “That’s right. And the minute I heard her, I started to believe that your crazy séances really worked. It practically proves that Kelly was protecting us from the other side.”

  Jennifer frowned. Brian had teased them about their séances before, but this time he sounded totally serious. “I don’t understand, Brian. I was in the spring play. And I know that Kelly used all of those words in her lines.”

  “You’re wrong, Jen. Kelly used every word except one. On the tape she said, You murdered me, Dale. And there was no character in the spring play named Dale!”

  Slay Bells

  This book is for Trudi Nash.

  With special thanks to: John, Rudy, & Amber, and my personal Santa Claus.

  Prologue

  Winter in Minnesota was beautiful. Lazy snowflakes drifted down outside the window, covering the dirty slush in the parking lot with a lacy blanket of pristine white. The cars were dusted with what looked like powdered sugar, and the reflected lights from the Christmas trees by the main entrance made the snow glisten with brilliant flashes of color. The scene was worthy of a Christmas card, but he deliberately sat down with his back to the view. It was two weeks before Christmas, and Christmas made him sad.

  The Christmas music didn’t help. There were speakers everywhere, even in the employees’ lounge, and the tape had been running, over and over, all day. It was intended to put the employees in a cheerful mood for tomorrow’s grand opening, but it wasn’t working for him.

  There was a time when he’d loved Christmas carols. He’d even gone caroling when he was in the high school chorus. But now the familiar music reminded him of last Christmas, the Christmas his grandmother had died. He could still remember the paralyzing fear he’d felt when they’d carried her off to the hospital. But he hadn’t shown that fear. He’d been determined to be strong for his grandfather.

  His lunch break was almost over. In less than ten minutes, he’d have to put a smile on his face and join the rest of the employees. He leaned back in his chair, trying to relax, and thought about the way this area used to look, when his grandparents had owned the land. He was sitting smack dab in the middle of what used to be his grandmother’s vegetable garden, and the bedroom he’d used, when he’d stayed with his grandparents, had been right about where the Christmas tree at the center of the mall now stood. Those had been happy times, times he remembered with joy. He’d spent a lot of time at the farm, and he’d learned to love everything about farming. His parents thought he was crazy, but he’d always said he wanted to take over the land, once he’d graduated from college, and turn Gramps and Grandma’s farm into a real showplace.

  His hands unconsciously clenched into fists as he thought about how the Crossroads Corporation had bought the farm. They’d descended like vultures, a week after his grandmother’s funeral. He hadn’t been there. He’d left the day before, to go back to school. The slick-talking real estate agent had taken advantage of his grief-stricken grandfather, and convinced him that they were making him a wonderful deal. Poor Gramps, who’d been showing the first symptoms of Alzheimer’s, had believed him and signed on the dotted line.

  When he’d found out about it, he’d tried to stop the sale. But Gramps had been the sole owner of the land, and he hadn’t yet been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Now, almost a year later, Gramps was in a nursing home. Alzheimer’s was usually a cruel disease, but in Gramps’s case, it was a kindness. Gramps would never realize how badly the Crossroads Corporation had cheated him. But his grandson did. And it was eating him up inside, just like the cancer that had killed his grandmother.

  Five minutes left. He got up to pour himself a cup of coffee, and leaned back in his chair again. Under any other circumstances, he might have enjoyed working at the Crossroads Mall. It was a beautiful building, and the surrounding countryside was gorgeous. The mall was built at the intersection of three state highways, and it served three Minnesota cities. Prairie Falls, twelve miles to the east, was the home of Prairie College. Students at Prairie would be sure to shop at the mall, and they made up a large proportion of the area’s population. And Portersville, fifteen miles to the west, was the county seat. Since people would have to drive right past the mall to go to the county courthouse, they’d stop in to do their shopping. Two Rivers, at the apex of the triangle, attracted plenty of tourists. It was Shane Winter’s hometown, and Shane had become one of the hottest new stars in Hollywood. Just to prove that he hadn’t forgotten his Minnesota roots, Shane was coming out to the Crossroads Mall to promote the opening, and that meant the tourists would come here, too.

  He turned around to glance out the window again, and his heart caught in his throa
t as he recognized the big pine tree they’d decorated at the edge of the road. It was his favorite tree, the great grand-daddy of all pines. He could remember crawling under its massive branches in the winter, and peeking out at the icy world. It was always dry and cozy under the big pine tree. Its branches were so thick, no amount of snow could reach the ground.

  Tears came to his eyes and he blinked them back. The pine tree wasn’t his any longer. It belonged to the Crossroads Mall. And the mall had ruined everything. The flowers his grandmother had planted around the house were covered over with asphalt, and the grove of apple trees that Gramps had grafted had been bulldozed to make way for the mall garage. The farm he’d loved was completely gone.

  Gramps had always promised that the family farm would be his someday. He’d even written it into his will. Of course that didn’t count for much now. There was no way he could reclaim his inheritance unless the mall failed, and the property was auctioned off to the highest bidder.

  “Fat chance!” He said the words aloud, and gave a bitter laugh. People were eager to find ways to spend their money and this mall was the biggest shopping center in central Minnesota. The multi-plex movie theater would do a booming business, and the beautiful restaurant on the upper level would become the place to go and be seen. There was no way the mall could fail. Air-conditioned in the hot, muggy summer, and heated in the stark, frigid winter, the Crossroads Mall would provide a pleasant environment that everyone would enjoy. It was bound to be a huge success, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

  Despair washed over him, and he gave a deep sigh as he listened to the next song on the tape. It was a children’s song, “Santa Claus Is Comin’ To Town.”

  You better watch out; you better not cry;

  Better not pout; I’m telling you why:

  Santa Claus is comin’ to town.

  He’s making a list and checking it twice;

  Gonna find out who’s naughty and nice:

  Santa Claus is comin’ to town.

  He sees you when you’re sleepin’;

  He knows when you’re awake;

  He knows if you’ve been bad or good;

  So be good for goodness sake.

  He raised his eyebrows as he listened to the words. He’d never really noticed it before, but the Santa in the song was vengeful. The first line was a warning. You better watch out. It sent a clear message to everyone who listened. Santa would get you if you weren’t good. Santa saw you, and he put your name on a list. If you were good, you got presents. But if you were bad, Santa would . . . what? Punish you?

  Suddenly, he had an inspiration. Perhaps he should be Santa this year, and punish the people who’d hurt his grandparents. It was an intriguing idea, and he began to smile for the first time today. It wasn’t a nice smile, but Santa didn’t have to be nice. Did he?

  One

  Diana Connelly caught sight of her reflection in the plate glass window of the Alpine Ski Shop, and stopped to stare. She’d pulled her hair back this morning, and fashioned it into what she’d thought was a smart, sophisticated twist at the back of her neck. During the day, wisps of reddish blond hair had escaped, and now there were tight little curls all over her head. With her bright blue eyes, and light skin with freckles, she looked like Little Orphan Annie.

  A good-humored giggle escaped Diana’s lips. She often laughed at herself. She knew she should brush her hair before anyone else caught sight of her, but she’d left her purse in a locker in the employees’ lounge, and she didn’t want to walk all the way to the other end of the mall. There was only one thing to do. Diana pulled off the band that held the rest of her hair in place, and let it spring loose to tumble down in a curling mass around her shoulders.

  Diana gave one more glance at her reflection, and shrugged. There really wasn’t any solution for her curly hair. She’d spent a fortune on products that promised to tame unruly hair, but none of them seemed to work on her. She had inherited her grandmother’s hair, and that was scary. Grannie had a permanent perm, and she always looked as if she’d stuck her finger in an electrical socket.

  There was a bench in front of Elaine’s Boutique, and Diana limped over to sit down. When she’d accepted this temporary Christmas job, they hadn’t told her she’d have to dress up in green tights and a green jerkin, and skip around the mall all day! If Diana had known that she was going to be one of Santa’s elves, she might have reconsidered. The mall was huge, and Diana knew exactly how huge. Her father owned the construction company that had built the mall, and she’d spent all last summer as his assistant, making sure everything was completed according to code.

  As she kicked off her shoes to massage her aching feet, Diana spotted Cindy Swanson, her college roommate, walking toward her from the other end of the mall. Actually, walking wasn’t the correct word for what Cindy was doing. Hobbling would be more like it. But seeing Cindy hobble made Diana feel much better. Cindy was a physical education major, and she was always giving Diana grief about not exercising enough.

  “Brutal!” Cindy sighed as she sank down on the bench. “Sue missed her calling. She should have been a Marine drill instructor.”

  Diana laughed. Sue Langer was the head cheerleader at Prairie College, and she’d just put the elves through a grueling rehearsal. It hadn’t been easy to skip around the mall three times with smiles on their faces.

  “Sue’s really in great shape.” Cindy looked very envious. “I watched her the whole way and she didn’t even break a sweat.”

  Diana nodded, and then she parroted the old adage her grannie had taught her. “Women don’t sweat. Horses sweat, men perspire, and women glow.”

  “Well, I’m definitely glowing.” Cindy laughed and her whole face lit up. For a moment, she looked very pretty. Cindy wasn’t at all beautiful in the traditional sense of the word. Her light brown hair, which was really very nice, was cut so short, it made her face look thin. Her deep brown eyes were set just a little too wide, but her nose was perfect and she had the kind of cheekbones models would kill for. Cindy was petite. She wore a size three, and she didn’t weigh more than a hundred pounds. But Cindy knew how to intimidate people. She had a personality that made all of her friends treat her like a live hand-grenade.

  Cindy was a no-nonsense person, and she always said exactly what she was thinking. If she didn’t like something you did or said, she told you. Straight out. Right then and there. With no pulled punches. Diana knew that Cindy didn’t mean to hurt anyone by her sharp comments, but sometimes, she did.

  Diana had been intimidated, at first. Cindy had looked and acted like a very tough person. That misconception had lasted for almost two weeks, and it might have lasted much longer if they hadn’t found the kittens.

  Cindy and Diana had been walking home from class when they’d heard small, crying noises coming from a neighborhood dumpster. They’d lifted the lid and found two very young kittens, curled up in a pitiful ball, inside. Cindy hadn’t said a word. She’d just piled up a couple of broken cinder blocks to stand on, and jumped in to rescue them. Then she’d taken them home, and smuggled them into their “no pets” building.

  The kittens had been too young to eat solid food, but Cindy had mixed up a concoction she’d said would work, and she’d fed them every three hours with an eyedropper. Naturally, Diana had asked if she could help, and Cindy had taught her exactly what to do. When the kittens were old enough to get along on their own, Cindy had canvassed the neighborhood to find a home for them, refusing to give them away separately since they were so cute together. And she’d actually cried when she’d handed them over to a family who’d promised to love them and take good care of them.

  The episode with the kittens had opened Diana’s eyes, and she’d realized that Cindy’s sharp tongue was a defense against her very sentimental nature. Cindy cried when she saw a sad movie, and she got all mushy when she saw a couple holding hands. Kids got to her, too. Diana had caught her cooing to babies, and reading stories to the kids in th
e neighborhood. It was a side of Cindy that very few people saw, but Diana was hoping that someday Cindy would drop her tough act, and let everyone see what a sweet, caring person she was.

  Cindy waved a hand in front of Diana’s eyes to get her attention. “Why are you staring at me with that sappy expression on your face?”

  “Oh . . . uh . . .” Diana was ready to give an excuse, but then she decided to be honest, instead. “I was just thinking about the kittens, and what a nice person you are.”

  “Shh!” Cindy glanced around to make sure there was no one close enough to hear. “Don’t blow my cover, huh? As far as the rest of the world’s concerned, I’m a bitch in training.”

  “But . . . why?” Diana was puzzled.

  “It’s easier that way. It gives me an excuse for not dating.”

  Diana frowned. “Sorry, but I don’t get it.”

  “If I’m a bitch, everyone’ll think that’s the reason the guys don’t ask me out. I don’t want them to find out the real reason.”

  “What real reason?” Diana was still puzzled.

  “I’m ugly.” Cindy looked upset. “That’s the real reason I never have any dates.”

  “But you’re not. You’re very pretty when you smile. If you’d smile more often, maybe . . .”

  “No way!” Cindy interrupted her. “If I smile all the time, I can’t be a bitch. Don’t you see, Diana? It’s a lot better to be an unpopular bitch than it is to be an unpopular ugly girl.”

  Diana opened her mouth, and then she closed it again. Cindy’s logic left a lot to be desired, but this wasn’t the time for a lecture. It was best to change the subject. “Speaking of bitches . . . I haven’t seen Heather. Isn’t she here?”

  “She’s here.”

  Cindy’s eyes began to glitter dangerously, and Diana winced. Cindy hated her older brother’s ex-girlfriend. Heather Perkins was a junior, and she’d been dating Cindy’s brother, Jay, since the beginning of the school year. Back then, Jay had been the star quarterback of the Prairie College football team, and Heather had attended every game. Everything had been great while Jay had been playing, but he’d been injured in late October, and the coach had taken him out for the rest of the season.