Shadow Hills

by Anastasia Hopcus

  “My sister died last year.” I didn’t know whether or not opening up to Brody would make him more open with me, but it seemed worth a shot. “And I’m still not okay. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it, but it hurts less with time.”

  “Yeah, well, I wasn’t actually related to Mr. Carr or anything.” Brody pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lighting a new one with the dying cherry of his first.

  “I know. I’m sorry about your parents.” I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

  “I was young with my dad. And my mom …” Brody’s jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. “Well, you know. I’m sure Zach told you about our life span. She wanted it that way. She didn’t want to end up a basket case.” There was the slightest tremor in his chin, and his cheeks were blotchy and red.

  “That’s so awful.” It was a terrible understatement, but even after everything with my sister, I still didn’t know anything comforting to say.

  “That’s just the way it is.” Brody sucked hard on his cigarette, as if he were trying to draw strength from it. “The way we are. But Mr. Carr—he was the only adult on this campus who gave two shits about me. The only one who paid any attention at all—and I didn’t notice anything was going on with him.”

  I was about to open my mouth when Zach walked around the side of the building.

  “Hey, I figured you guys would still be at lunch.” He smiled at us, and I wondered if he could sense the heavy, suffocating tension in the air. “I came by to see how you were doing.”

  “I told you already. I’m fine, man.”

  “I know,” Zach reassured Brody. “But I came in with my mom; she’s talking to Pamela at the hospital. And I thought since I had the car, I would bring my skateboard, and we could drive to Springfield and hit the skate park.”

  Brody’s face relaxed. “Yeah. That sounds good. I’m just gonna run back to the house and grab my board, and then we can go. Okay?”

  Brody took off, looking several degrees happier.

  I turned to Zach. “You skateboard?”

  “Well, you could say that, but I suck at it. I’m basically comic relief for the other guys out there.” His warm, throaty laugh lit me up inside. “But it’s pretty much Brody’s favorite thing to do, and I wanted to take his mind off stuff for a while.”

  “I know. He needs you.” As Brody ran back across the courtyard, I gave Zach a tender kiss, keeping my mind blank.

  I couldn’t let Zach know what I was going to do. Brody’s house was the logical place to look for evidence that Mr. Carr had been killed. Mrs. Carr was at the hospital talking to Zach’s mom, which would probably take a while, and Brody was going to be gone for at least two hours. There was nothing to prevent me from sneaking into the Carrs’ house and searching for proof.

  Well, nothing except for good sense, and I was pretty sure I had given up on that a couple of weeks ago.

  After Zach left with Brody, I headed to the teachers’ cottages, a group of houses on campus where the faculty members with families lived.

  I walked quickly, nervous that one of the teachers might see me. After all, even though it was Monday they, too, had the day off to deal with their grief. As if the aftermath of death is like the twenty-four-hour flu and we’ll all be over it by tomorrow. I chewed on my thumbnail, wondering how I was going to figure out which house was the Carrs’. I couldn’t very well go knocking on doors until I found it. Fortunately for me, there were mailboxes in front of each house with the teachers’ names clearly marked on them. Even better, the Carrs’ house was the last one in the row, so that on one side there was nothing but the woods and to the back there was only the hill going up to the hospital.

  I went around to the side that was hidden from the rest of the campus.

  I tried all the windows, but they were locked. There was a back entrance that opened onto the small stone patio. Without much hope of success, I tried the door handle. To my surprise, it turned.

  Cautiously, I stepped into the kitchen and closed the door behind me. I walked over to the stairs on my right and peered up them, but I wasn’t ready to explore the second story yet. After checking out a small coat closet, I decided to try the room at the end of the hall. The door was standing partway open. I peeked around it and froze, staring in disbelief.

  This was the old-fashioned study I had seen in my vision at Rebekah Sampson’s grave. There were the same heavy drapes pulled closed across the windows, the same dark wood bookshelves and imposing mahogany desk.

  A chill ran down my spine, then I was hit with a flush of vindication. I was right. My dreams and visions had led me here—which meant Mr. Carr had been murdered and something in this office would help me find out why.

  I stepped in, leaving the door open a crack like I had found it. It was weird actually being in this room, but at least I knew what I was looking for, and I wouldn’t have to waste time searching. I went straight to the desk and pulled open the side drawer. The drawer was full of files, just as it had been in the dream, and I flipped through them until I saw one labeled BANISHMENT DOCUMENTS.

  I pulled out the file and opened it. The first page was the list of people who had been banished from Shadow Hills in 1968, once again confirming my dream. I was grateful I had the advantage of a mind map to help me find what I wanted, but this was getting seriously creepy. I remembered the frightening face I had seen in the file in my dream, and I quickly closed the folder. I didn’t want to look at that face again—not here, not now. Besides, it would be foolish to take the time to look at it. I’d just have to bring it back to the dorm.

  I tucked it under my arm and glanced around the room, wondering if I should search for something else.

  The sound of a key in the front door made me jump.

  I slid the desk drawer back in as quietly as possible. The hinges creaked as the front door swung open. I froze, my heart pounding like crazy. The door to the study was almost shut, so as long as they stayed in the hall I would be fine. If they came in here, I was completely busted.

  I breathed a little sigh of relief at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Okay. Mrs. Carr had obviously gotten through at the hospital more quickly than I had expected. But I could slip out the front while she was upstairs.

  I peered out. The foyer was empty. I strained, listening for the sound of footsteps above me. Not hearing anything, I cautiously edged out into the hall.

  Just then the back door of the house opened. I jumped back inside the study, pulling the door almost shut again. How had Mrs. Carr gotten out there? I was sure I’d heard her go up the stairs.

  “Pamela?” came the sound of a male voice, and I realized that somebody else had come in. Someone who knew Mrs. Carr well enough to call her by her first name. Who was this, coming in the back door so familiarly?

  Whoever it was, his voice brought Mrs. Carr running down the stairs.

  “I parked in the hospital lot like usual,” I heard the man say.

  “Good. It’s even more important now that no one finds out about this.”

  I raised my eyebrows at that statement and leaned closer to the door.

  “I have no intention of anyone ever finding out,” the man told her. The footsteps started down the hall and abruptly stopped. Then there were some noises that definitely sounded like kissing. Mousy Mrs. Carr is making out with some other guy already? Her husband hadn’t even been buried yet!

  Unable to contain my curiosity, I opened the door a smidge more, putting my eye to the crack.

  They were standing in the dimmest part of the hallway, beyond the light from any of the outside rooms, and the stairs obscured my view of them from the waist down. The guy was facing Mrs. Carr, his back to me, and he blocked the small woman entirely. His hair looked like it was probably light brown, but it was hard to be sure under the circumstances. He was definitely slim, though, medium height, and wearing a dark leather jacket. He could be anyone—well, anyone completely lacking in morals. Frustration built insi
de of me; I couldn’t even grind my teeth or exhale too forcefully, for fear of being discovered.

  I couldn’t see anything from my viewpoint that would positively identify him. Then again, if I could see him better, he would probably be able to see me, too.

  “I can’t believe we have this place all to ourselves now. No more waiting. Sneaking around,” the man murmured as he bent to kiss her neck.

  They turned slightly, and I could see enough of the woman to confirm it was Mrs. Carr. Her hair was down in soft waves, framing her face instead of drawn back in its usual tight bun, but it was her.

  Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, as the man slowly unbuttoned her dull tan blouse, revealing a sexy maroon lace bra. Mrs. Carr was nothing like what she appeared to be. All of a sudden she snapped her head back up. I retreated a step. Had she heard me breathing or something? She was a BV like Zach.

  “Did you lock the back door behind you?” she asked sharply.

  “Why should I? No one else lives here anymore.”

  “Unfortunately, that isn’t true. Brody still does.” Mrs. Carr sighed. “My late husband never picked up the transfer petition forms so we could start the process. He always had a soft spot for that delinquent—who knows why. But if I do anything about it now, it will draw unwanted attention. I’ll have to wait for at least a few months before transferring him.”

  Transferring him? The Carrs had been trying to get rid of Brody? Of course, it didn’t sound like Mr. Carr had actually wanted to.

  “So he could be here right now?” The man backed up a few steps, putting space between them. As if that would fool anyone—Mrs. Carr still had her bra exposed.

  “He left for lunch about an hour ago. I think he’s still there.” She glanced around as if she was going to find Brody standing in the hall with them. I shrank back farther behind the door.

  “God, Pam. Are you trying to get caught? I thought you agreed that we need to be careful.”

  “Oh, you mean I should be careful like you—dropping jewelry on the bedroom floor for Robert to find?” She snorted.

  “That was an accident. It’s not my fault you were too distracted to notice it before he did. Well, I guess the distraction might have been partially my fault.” He looped his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him again.

  “It’s always your fault.” Her remark was followed by a low giggle. Then they started down the hall—straight at me, it sounded like. I tensed, without a clue about what I would do or say if they came in here. But then the footsteps started up the stairs.

  They took forever getting up the stairs, pausing several times, presumably to kiss some more. I was about ready to scream at them to get on with it when I heard a door closing on the second floor.

  Now was my chance to make a run for it. I removed my shoes, then scampered across the hallway and out the front door, shutting it softly behind me. Mrs. Carr obviously hadn’t locked it when she came in either, despite her scolding tone with the mystery man.

  I ran back to Kresky Hall, too scared even to think about sticking around to see if Mrs. Carr’s boyfriend ever came out of the house. Pamela’s harsh comments kept playing in my head. She had been trying to get rid of Brody after everything he had already gone through. It was heartless. Mr. Carr had been Brody’s only ally, and now Mr. Carr was dead.

  Maybe he had stood up for Brody one too many times. Maybe he paid for it with his life.

  Chapter Twenty

  The next morning was Mr. Carr’s memorial, and though it was uncharacteristically sunny outside the chapel, the mood inside was dark and unsettling. A lot of the day students sat in the back pews with their parents. Mr. Carr had grown up in Shadow Hills, so he’d had a lot of friends outside the teaching staff, and many of them had come to pay their respects here since his funeral was to be family only. I wondered if Brody would be allowed to attend. I turned my head slightly, trying to get a glimpse of him without full-on staring.

  Brody was sitting with Zach’s family, looking very normal in comparison to their collective attractiveness. Zach’s mother was especially beautiful, with hair somewhere between pale gold and silver. Her beauty was icy, though, with precisely arched eyebrows and a perfectly defined jawline. Her rigid posture did nothing to soften her appearance, and I could tell from her body language toward Zach that she was still pissed at him.

  When Zach called me last night, he told me that he couldn’t come by to see me because his mom was mad at him and wouldn’t let him have the car. Apparently, he and Brody had skated for a lot longer than Zach—and certainly his mom—had intended. I’d wanted to tell him about Mrs. Carr’s affair and everything I had found out, but I’d barely gotten to talk to him on the phone. And now I’d have to wait until after school to show him the folder. I couldn’t exactly recount my trip to the Carrs’ house with Brody around.

  The memorial was poignant. Even the speech Mrs. Carr gave at the end of the service seemed heartfelt. If I hadn’t seen her making out with some other man about two minutes after her husband had died, she might have had more credibility.

  After my last class of the day let out, I headed back to my dorm room, intent on studying the file I’d gotten from Mr. Carr’s office. But once I’d pulled it from the hiding spot under my mattress and placed it on my desk, I couldn’t bring myself to open it. Even though I wanted to know what my vision had been leading me to, I was also really afraid of what I might find. And the idea of seeing the picture of that man again … I shivered. I knew it was irrational; it wasn’t like the guy was going to reach out of a photo and strangle me, but I couldn’t deny that he terrified me to my very core. That picture was the main reason I’d hidden the file the moment I’d gotten home yesterday and hadn’t looked at it since. Until now.

  I so don’t want to do this by myself.

  I reached into my purse to get my phone, and it started ringing. Zach.

  “Hey, I was about to call you.”

  “Great minds think alike.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. Corinne’s at one of her club meetings for the next hour.”

  “Yeah. Why don’t you come over to my dorm? I have something I kind of wanted to run by you, anyway.”

  “Cool. I’ll see you in a few.”

  As I waited for Zach, I tried to decide what it was that I was actually going to say to him. How was I going to explain having this file? Seeing Mrs. Carr and the mystery man?

  I was almost certain now that Mr. Carr had been killed, but I was having trouble getting all the facts straight. I needed an outside opinion; I needed Zach. But if I wanted his help, I would have to tell him everything that had happened—my visions, the breaking and entering, all the stuff about the Banished. Everything.

  It was a huge risk; Zach could easily decide that I was insane. Keeping quiet was the safest option, since most people would probably have me committed if I told them the things I’d been doing. But I wasn’t dealing with most people. This was Zach.

  As if on cue, I heard a knock on my door.

  “Hey.” I motioned for Zach to come in, then closed the door behind him.

  Zach wrapped his arms around me, and I hugged him back even harder. I could feel his heartbeat reverberating through me, and I stood on my tiptoes to meet his soft lips. The kiss warmed my entire body, giving me strength.

  “There’s some stuff I have to tell you, but I don’t want you to freak out.” The words came out in a rush.

  “That certainly sounds ominous.” Zach tucked a lock of hair behind my ear.

  “I know you think Mr. Carr’s death was a natural one—”

  “Not again.” Zach sighed. “I spent five hours yesterday listening to Brody’s reasons why he thinks Mr. Carr was killed.”

  “He agrees with me?” I felt slightly vindicated.

  “Yes, and I have to admit you both have some good points, but …” Zach let his sentence hang there unfinished.

  “But what? Why don’t you believe us
?”

  “It’s not that I don’t believe you—I guess, I don’t want to think that there’s a BV out there killing people. Besides, there’s no real proof that Mr. Carr was murdered—those handprints could have been his own.”

  “They could have, but will you at least hear me out?” I sat on my bed, and Zach sank into the desk chair across from me.

  “Okay. Go for it.” He leaned back, crossing his legs at the ankles.

  “I think Mrs. Carr might have had something to do with her husband’s death. I saw them fighting at the school dance not long before I found … him.” I couldn’t bring myself to say “the body” out loud.

  “Lots of couples fight.” Zach shrugged. “My parents fight at least once a week. It doesn’t mean they’re going to kill each other.”

  “But I saw Mrs. Carr kissing another man yesterday, at the very house where she and her husband had lived together. Does that sound like a grief-stricken widow to you?”

  “Wait. What?” Zach sat up straighter. “Who was she kissing? And why would you be in the Carrs’ house?”

  “First: I don’t know who she was kissing. Second …” I paused, unsure how to admit to breaking into his friend’s home. I knew where that confession would lead.

  “Go on.” A note of unease was creeping into Zach’s voice.

  “I kind of let myself into the Carrs’ house yesterday afternoon.”

  He stared at me. “Why on earth would you do that?”

  “Okay.” I took a deep breath. “I guess I should really begin at the beginning.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  I told Zach everything, starting with getting the Devenish brochure that was mailed to Athena and ending with stealing the folder from Mr. Carr’s office. I even showed him the green dream journal and the mark on my hip. Zach was shocked by many of the things I had done since I got here, and skeptical about the idea that my dreams were prophetic, but he didn’t seem to be mad at me. In fact, the only thing that really seemed to piss him off was that Trent had stolen that letter and then tried to blackmail me about the library break-in.