The Secrets of Lost Stones

by Melissa Payne

  She flew from the room and down the stairs, hurling open the door. It smashed into the wall with a loud bang. The image of the bear and the boy and the knowledge that Star had lied to her twirled around in her head until it became a tangle of thoughts too twisted to understand.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

  STAR

  Inside, the shed was a wall of blackness so dense she couldn’t tell where the floor or walls or ceiling met or began or ended. She shivered. It was like a giant mouth. A squat, hulking shape with wide-set eyes began to form. She whimpered, but as her eyes adjusted she saw it was only a car. It filled the shed, leaving about a foot of space between the doors and the slanting walls. Her curiosity momentarily overcoming her fear, she walked all the way inside. The car didn’t appear to be anything special, just a two-door hatchback—maybe a dark red or blue. But it was the hood that was unusual, painted a different, lighter color from the body.

  She backed away, but the door behind her closed with a thud, plunging the shed back into darkness. The stench of burning rubber snaked inside her nose, and her breathing turned ragged.

  In the dark her foot turned, twisting her ankle, and she pitched forward, flailing in space until she landed face-first onto the cold metal hood. The walls groaned and creaked around her. When she pressed her palms down to push herself up, she felt that the metal curved inward. She ran her hands across the hood, and her mind filled with flashes of the car before the door had closed. A shattered windshield, dent in the hood. She jerked her hands away, felt her mouth go dry.

  There could be only one reason that Chance wanted her to see this car. Her legs gave out, and she fell to the ground. Her thoughts turned to Lucy. She pressed her palms on either side of her head and rocked back and forth. No, no, no. Not Lucy.

  The walls seemed to shrink, and she couldn’t breathe. She pulled open the door and scrambled out of the shed, sucking in a lungful of cool air as behind her the door slammed shut. The sky above was a dark gray; it was almost morning.

  “Star?”

  She jumped. Jess stood at the top of the hill.

  “What are you doing out here?”

  The words would not come. She stood rooted to the ground, mutely rubbing her arms. She understood now. Chance wanted his mom to know everything.

  “Please answer me, Star.” Jess stood in front of her, looking past Star’s shoulder. “Were you inside the shed?”

  “I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “And I thought I heard a bear.”

  Jess eyed her feet. “So you came all the way up here to scare it off in your nightgown and bare feet?” She looked again at the shed. “How did you get in there?”

  Before she could answer, a scream came from inside the house. Jess’s eyes widened, and her mouth opened. “Oh my God!” She whipped around and ran down the path, and Star followed close behind, her heart pounding in her ears.

  Jess was inside before her, but her cry sent a ripple of fear down Star’s back. A figure lay sprawled at the bottom of the stairs—frail ankles, skinny calves poking out of her black nightgown.

  “Call 9-1-1,” Jess said, her voice hoarse with panic.

  As Star ran to the phone, a man’s voice stopped her.

  “I already have,” Ben said, jogging down the stairs.

  Star gasped. What was Ben doing here?

  Jess’s head shot up. “Ben?” She didn’t wait for his response. Turning back to Lucy, she put two fingers on her wrist. “Lucy? Can you hear me?”

  But Lucy made no sound.

  Star hovered behind them, biting one fingernail after another, her eyes glued on Lucy’s still form. The wail of sirens drifted up from Main Street, getting louder as the ambulance pulled up in front of the house.

  And then the foyer was full of people in uniform, and Star saw Jess stand to the side, holding her hands out in front of her like they didn’t work anymore. Star moved so that she stood just behind her, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her.

  Ben leaned down and hissed at Jess, “I told you something like this would happen.”

  Jess stared at him, and her face was so sad, Star looked down at her feet.

  “Why are you here, Ben?”

  His jaw tensed. “I was just getting home from a late shift when I heard voices from my driveway. When I came down to investigate, I found the front door wide open and Lucy standing at the top of the stairs, confused and very upset.”

  “But how did she fall down the stairs?” Jess said through her teeth.

  Ben ran a hand roughly through his hair. The skin beneath his eyes was puffy and dark, like he hadn’t slept well, and dark stubble covered the sharp edges of his cheeks and jaw.

  “When she saw me, she started to come down the stairs, and she must have tripped on her nightgown or—” He made a choking sound like a sob, pressed a fist into his mouth, his eyes suddenly wet.

  Star swallowed. He looked so lost right then.

  Jess visibly softened, placed her hand on his arm. “She’s not always steady on her feet. Things happen.”

  The paramedics had loaded Lucy onto a stretcher and wheeled her outside.

  Ben inhaled, sniffed, and his face turned serious again. “I’ll follow the ambulance.” He left quickly, and Jess ran upstairs, returning a few minutes later dressed in sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt. Star stood in the empty foyer, her bare toes cold on the hardwood floor.

  “Ma’am?” A paramedic stuck his head through the door. “You can ride with us if you’d like.”

  “Thanks,” Jess said, then paused and turned to face Star as though just now remembering that she was there. She slid her hand inside her pocket and pulled something out, took Star’s hand, and placed it in her palm. It was smooth and cool and round. Star blinked rapidly, looked down, thought her heart might shrivel in her chest.

  It was her rock, red with gold stars.

  Jess didn’t let go of her hand right away, squeezed it a little. “We need to talk,” she said hoarsely, and released her hand.

  CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

  STAR

  The sirens faded into silence. She didn’t move from the foyer, the rock pressed to her heart, until the sky began to lighten into strips of pink and blue. A light breath of cold air brushed across her bare arms. She looked up and felt the hair on her neck stand on end. Chance stood at the bottom of the stairs, hands hanging by his sides, his hair as curly, eyes as brown as the first day she met him.

  She reached out. “I’m—” she croaked, but he turned, ran down the hallway, and disappeared into the sitting room. Her feet dragged across the floor when she followed. What did he want to show her this time? She turned the corner into the sitting room—empty, but something moved by the window. She gasped and sprinted across the room, dodging couches and end tables. She was too late.

  “No!” The center bonsai crashed to the floor, scattering dirt, small rocks, and pottery pieces across the rug. Star dropped to her knees and began to scoop up whatever she could, tears making paths down her cheeks even though it wasn’t her mother’s tree. She hunched forward over the mess and cried out to the empty room, “I’m sorry, Chance. I’m so sorry.” She squeezed the broken pottery, sending sharp spikes of pain up her arm, and felt warm drops of blood skim down her palm. He deserved to be here instead of her, to be with his mom. She deserved none of it. With a sob, she released the pottery and fell to her knees, letting the memory of that night unfold.

  At night, the stairwell at the Lancaster felt like another world. The light made everything green, and the floors looked even dirtier, caked with layers of muck, the corners full of cigarettes, potato chip bags, and other stuff Star never touched. Chance had bounded ahead of her like usual, taking the stairs two at a time. Star’s stomach flip-flopped with excitement, making her out of breath. She was going to live with Chance and his mom. Her feet hardly touched the stairs; she was flying.

  When they got to her apartment, Star put her ear to the door, and the whooshing sound that echoed back made her think of
the ocean. Soon she picked up other sounds—Mr. Ahmed’s television from next door turned up loud because he didn’t hear well, a woman yelling cusswords, and then grunting or shuffling or something like that. She wasn’t sure, but she didn’t hear her father’s voice. He must be passed out by now.

  She gave Chance a thumbs-up, put her finger to her lips. He mouthed O-K, making his lips really big with the O and wide with the K. She covered her mouth with her hand, giggled without sound. Chance put his hand on the knob, turned, and pushed so that he was standing in front of her, blocking her view. She would never forget the way his shoulders stiffened, how his hand reached back to clamp onto her arm, strong like one of those robots he always talked about. He stood in front of her, and when she tried to look around him. he held her back, stiff armed. All she could see was the top of her father’s head from where he lay on the floor, his shiny scalp pointed toward the door.

  At first she thought he’d overdosed again, because there was someone else on top of him, doing something with his hands like a paramedic. But her father’s body flailed, and the person’s hands were on his neck, squeezing, squeezing, squeezing. A wet choking sound came from her father, and his arms shot up, his hands curled into claws.

  Chance moaned softly and grabbed her hand, pushing her in front of him as they whirled and sprinted toward the stairs.

  A man’s deep voice shouted at them. Hey! Get back here, boy!

  They stumbled down the stairs, and Star scraped her face against the cement wall, drawing blood in a line across her cheek. When they passed Chance’s apartment on the first floor, she tried to turn him, thinking he had forgotten where he lived.

  Instead he pulled her toward the entrance to the building, out the glass door, and into a night so cold her lips stuck to her teeth and her wet face froze. She was crying and so was Chance. His tears were red, though, reflecting the stoplight. The diner isn’t far. My mom will know what to do. Her legs were shorter than his, and she had trouble keeping up. He yanked at her arm, sending a sharp pain into her elbow. Hurry!

  They crossed the street, but the road was thick with slush and ice that splattered her ankles, and she slipped and stumbled, nearly falling, but Chance wouldn’t let go of her hand. There was no sound, the snow making everything quiet on the empty streets. Her heart pounded so fast she thought her chest was going to burst, trying to keep up with him.

  A car engine cut through the heavy silence. And then Chance pushed her so hard she flew backward, sliding easily in the slush until her spine crunched against something hard and she stopped.

  She looked up. His face glowed white like the moon. And then he was gone.

  She couldn’t feel her feet or her legs, but somehow she pushed up from the pavement, her cold hands scraped and bloodied, numb. The next thing she knew she was standing outside her apartment again. The door was wide open. Her father’s body lay sprawled across the floor, unmoving. She curled into a ball on her cot, stuck her thumb in her mouth, and lay there until Mr. Ahmed found her sometime the next day.

  Star wiped the tears from her face, her hands stinging from where slivers of pottery stuck to her palms. She began to pick them off, her face hot and dry, the room cold and empty. The sun had risen and filtered in through the window, bleak and unpromising. She finished scooping up the bonsai and, not wanting to throw it away, put it back on the table—dirt, limbs, and pottery.

  In the foyer she paused, stared at the floor, her hands curled into fists. What was her plan? She clenched her jaw and ran up the stairs to her bedroom. From her backpack, she took the two newspaper articles and a package of Post-it notes that Lucy had given her. She wiped a hand across her eyes. Lucy. Her hand hovered above the small square of paper, and then she scribbled everything she could, taking up two sides of the note. She took the articles and notes to Jess’s room and slid them all under her pillow.

  She breathed out, feeling a small bit of peace. This was what she was meant to do; she knew it in her heart. She was never supposed to have a happy ending; she’d never deserved one, but Jess did. And this, however painful, would give Jess the closure Star knew she needed.

  She threw only the warmest of her clothes into her backpack, leaving the two dresses and the nightgown from Lucy lying across her bed. She looked at the clothes with a pang, slung her bag over her shoulder, and left.

  CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

  JESS

  Lucy was pissed. She sat up in the bed, her back hovering off the pillow, looking ready to leave the hospital at any minute. Jess didn’t think she’d ever seen her this amped up before. Ebee perched on one end of the bed, her hand resting on top of the covers. They’d been at the hospital for most of the day, waiting for a room to open up, and all Lucy wanted was to go home.

  Jess wrung her hands. “I’m so sorry, Lucy, for not being there when you needed me.”

  “Yes, about that. Where were you?”

  Jess pressed her palms into her thighs. The coincidences had piled up to an unbelievable height, but still, she didn’t want to burden Lucy with everything she’d found out. Not yet. Once she made sure that Lucy was stable, Jess was going straight back to the house to talk with Star. “I saw Star outside, and I was worried about her being out there in the middle of the night with all the bears. I’m just glad that Ben was there.”

  Lucy raised her eyebrows, her eyes growing that bright blue that made Jess’s toes curl. “Benjamin was there?”

  Jess wrinkled her forehead. “You don’t remember?”

  Lucy frowned. “I’m not sure.” The deep wrinkles around her temples moved inward with her narrowed eyes. “Jess, where were you?” she asked again.

  “I was outside because Star—”

  “Where?” Lucy tilted her head, looking annoyed.

  “She was up by the shed. Well, actually, she was in the shed. I don’t know how because that old padlock looks like you’d need a crowbar to open it.”

  “The shed?” Lucy sat all the way up, bending forward until her curved fingers touched the soft spot beneath Jess’s chin.

  It was like being trapped in the sights of a rifle. She couldn’t move, mesmerized by the color of Lucy’s eyes.

  “The shed,” Lucy said again as if feeling the word out on her tongue. She patted the bed, glanced at the bedside tray table. “Now, where is my crossword puzzle? A small building . . .” She trailed off, and Jess grew alarmed.

  “You’re not making a lot of sense,” she said softly. “Should I call a doctor?”

  Lucy ignored her, turning to Ebee. “If Star was in the shed, then that means . . .”

  Ebee stood abruptly. “Do you think it’s happening?”

  Jess looked back and forth between the two women. Maybe Ebee needed to be admitted too. “What’s happening?” she asked.

  Lucy sighed heavily, looking at Jess with exasperation. “Oh dear. Are we still on page one? The loose ends, Jess. I bring them close, but they always tie themselves.”

  Ebee was at the door to the hospital room. “I’ll keep watch out here.”

  Jess gaped at her and turned around to find Lucy struggling to get out of bed. “Now’s your time, Jess.”

  “My time?” Jess scrambled over to her, feeling clumsy, like a small puppy with big paws.

  “To do what I hired you to do. Now help me get dressed, and let’s leave this place.”

  “You just fell down a flight of stairs, Lucy! I can’t let you leave.” Miraculously, the older woman had not broken a single bone. The ER doctors had called her the bionic granny and said she probably wouldn’t need to be in the hospital for more than a night, maybe two, considering her age.

  Outside the window a horn beeped once, and Jess turned to see the Foothills Taxi van pull to a stop along the curb, Jeremy hunched over behind the steering wheel, a black cap covering his normal mop of curls, and wearing a black turtleneck and gloves. Jess sucked her cheeks in. “Why does he look like he’s driving the getaway car for a bank robbery?”

  Lucy slipped her arm into t
he sleeve of her black dress, one that Ebee must have brought with her, and Jess began to help her. Lucy was stubborn as an ox. Besides, the doctor did say she was fine, and Jess really wanted to get home and talk with Star. In all the excitement of last night, she’d hardly had time to think about what she had discovered—that Star was Chance’s best friend. Tears welled in her eyes, but she wiped at them with the back of her hand.

  Lucy smiled, looked out the window. “Ah, Jeremy—always there when we need him.”

  “Coast is clear,” Ebee hissed from the doorway.

  Lucy grasped the crook of Jess’s elbow. “It’s time,” she said softly.

  “Time for what?”

  Lucy’s face softened with compassion. “For your part, dear. It’s all up to you now.”

  CHAPTER FORTY-NINE

  STAR

  It was after nine on a weeknight, well past rush, dinner, and happy hours, so the streets were quiet. She’d been able to scrounge up enough in change, plus a twenty-dollar bill she’d found in the basket underneath the phone, to purchase a bus ticket. She’d hesitated, but without it she couldn’t leave Pine Lake, so she’d grabbed it and stuffed it into her backpack, telling herself that Lucy wouldn’t mind. After Jess found the note, Lucy would be happy that Star was gone. Before she left the house, though, she ran upstairs and put her rock on Lucy’s pillow, wishing that she could have said goodbye or sorry or anything, and hating that the last she saw of Lucy was her body strapped to a hospital stretcher.

  By the time she’d gotten to Denver, it had been late afternoon, and she’d sat in a yellow plastic seat and hugged her backpack tightly to her chest, trying to build up the courage to leave the bus station. It was hours later when she looked up through the skylights and found a black night staring back at her. Panic squeezed her throat; she didn’t want to sleep out there tonight. She wished she’d had time to say goodbye to Jeremy; then again, he would have only tried to talk her into staying.

  She spied an empty bus idling in the bay area, the warm gleam of its inside lights beckoning to her. She slipped through the glass doors and into the bus, taking a seat in the very back, where she slid way down. If nobody noticed her, she could sleep here tonight and use the daylight tomorrow to come up with a plan.