Secrets and Lies (Cassie Scot)

by Amsden, Christine

  “The men in this town, a lot of them think you’re burned out or repressed.”

  “What?” I snapped my head around to face him. I knew what it meant to be repressed or burned out, I just couldn’t believe anyone thought it had happened to me. Repression tended to happen when sorcerers were born into non-magical families, particularly ones that were hostile toward magic or strongly disbelieved. It didn’t happen to a Scot. As for burnout, I suppose it could happen in even the most powerful families, but I would have known.

  “That’s why they want you. For the same reason a sorcerer might want a drained woman.”

  “What do you think?” I asked.

  He hesitated only a moment before looking me straight in the eyes and saying, “I think you’re burned out.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t believe it for a second. I had never had magic. A burnout was someone who had magic and pushed it too far, exhausting their body past the point of replenishment. Evan had nearly burned himself out healing me, but there was no way that had ever happened to me.

  “And before you shake your head, remember that young children don’t have clear memories, and it could have happened then.”

  “My parents would have told me if I burned out.”

  “Would they?”

  I looked away. I honestly wasn’t so sure anymore.

  “I just want you to know what the danger is,” Evan said.

  “Well, now I know.”

  I knew far more than that, though I didn’t say it aloud. I finally knew the reason Evan wanted me. Oh, maybe it wasn’t the only reason. I knew beyond a doubt that Evan wouldn’t hurt me, but it made sense. He might have shied away from the subject of sorcerers who wanted drained women, especially after I had called the idea barbaric, but I could see how such an arrangement would suit him.

  The trouble was, it wouldn’t suit me. I only hoped my eventual choice wouldn’t be between him and some other sorcerer, one who might hurt me.

  * * *

  Nicolas didn’t take me back to town – at least, not right away. He didn’t tell me where we were going until he had pulled into a driveway in front of an unfamiliar two-story home on the edge of the wealthier section of town.

  “Where are we?” I asked.

  “Grace Blair’s home.”

  I froze. “Nicolas, you know I don’t trust seers.”

  “He’s reeling you in. Or hadn’t you noticed?”

  I didn’t answer for a long time. Of course I had noticed, and for my own reasons it bothered me. But Nicolas was reacting purely out of prejudice, or so I guessed.

  “I know why I’m resisting him,” I said. “But why are you? Is this really the worst thing you can think of?”

  “Dad thinks it is.” Nicolas put up his hands defensively. “I know how you feel about him right now. And I agree. But would you really deliver our family secrets into the hands of an enemy?”

  “I would never turn my back on you guys. You know that.”

  “I know if you marry him, he’ll have your strongest loyalties. Not us.”

  “So it’s him or you? Is that my choice?”

  Nicolas didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.

  “Come on, Cassie, how can it hurt to just hear what she has to say? You can ignore it, if you want.”

  “Can I? You’ve said yourself she doesn’t lie, which means whatever she says will drive me crazy until I understand the truth.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “Isn’t it? So tell me, Nicolas, what does your future hold?”

  He hesitated, looking away and biting his lip. “I won’t last long with the fire department. She’s taking Dad’s side on the whole apprenticeship idea. Thinks it will broaden my options. Says I’m not meant to follow in Dad’s footsteps, whatever he wants, but that I shouldn’t limit my own choices through ignorance.”

  I blinked, surprised at what I considered sage advice. On the other hand... “I could have told you that. It sounds like a motivational speech.”

  “Maybe, but you didn’t say any of that. No one did, except Dad, and then only because he wanted me to apprentice with Master Wolf like him.”

  He had me there. “I guess I just want to support whatever you want.”

  “Grace won’t do that. She’ll tell you the truth you don’t want to hear.”

  I sighed. “Fine. I’ll listen.”

  We stepped out of the car and made our way up the front path to the door. Grace Blair, a handsome seventy-something woman with white hair tied into an elegant knot at the back of her head, had the door open before we had a chance to knock. She and I had met before, since our families were something akin to allies, but she had never read me. For some reason, the idea of letting her do so now made me uneasy, as if it were about to set a whole series of events into motion that would put me in danger – all orchestrated by a deceptively harmless-looking old woman.

  “Cassandra Scot,” Grace said with a thin-lipped smile. “I’ve wanted to read you for years, my dear. I’m so glad you’ve come to me for advice at last.”

  She held out her hand for me to shake, but my own hand remained fixed to my side, as if it had a will of its own. Its will was to not touch Grace’s hand.

  “I won’t bite,” Grace said, her smile faltering.

  I forced my hand upwards and clasped hers, feeling an odd jolt as her frail skin touched mine. For a second, I stared at her hand. Then my eyes roamed to her face, which was paralyzed in what I can only call shock. Quickly, I pulled my hand away.

  “Mrs. Blair?” Nicolas asked.

  Grace shook her head and stared at me. “That explains so much.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Are you going to invite us in?” Nicolas asked.

  Grace shook her head. “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”

  “Thanks for the help,” I said. “I thought you were going to advise me on how to get away from Evan.”

  She laughed. “Just walk away.”

  “And the debt?”

  “The debt is all in your head.”

  I looked at Nicolas, who shrugged, clearly as bewildered by this conversation as I was. “I suppose it is, but it’s pretty firmly affixed to my head. Aren’t you supposed to be able to tell me what’s going to happen in the future?”

  “So many possibilities,” she said. “Nothing’s ever certain.”

  “That’s useful.” I turned to leave. “Come on, Nicolas.”

  “Wait!” Grace said. “There is one thing I can give you. Call it a warning.”

  I turned back to face her. “What?”

  “Beware your heart and soul, for before he is done, Evan will have broken them both.”

  I gaped at her. “That’s it? What does it even mean?”

  “Some prophecies aren’t meant to be understood until after they’re fulfilled.”

  “Says who? You?” I felt irrationally angry with the woman, and felt sure she was manipulating me.

  “Since I’m the one seeing the future, then yes, says me. But trust me on this one – there’s nothing you can do to change it, anyway.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’ve already lost your heart.”

  I started to deny it, but she cut me off with an all-too knowing look, and I swallowed the lie before I could give it voice.

  “And he will break it.” With that, Grace slid back into the house and shut the door in my face.

  “That was helpful,” I muttered as I turned away, back down the path.

  “What did she mean?” Nicolas asked.

  I had almost forgotten his presence. “I’d tell you if I knew.”

  “I mean about you having already lost your heart.”

  “It’s not true.” I said the words forcefully, to convince myself as well as him. “You know what? I don’t need Grace’s obscure prophecies. I have my own idea. Evan can make me do whatever he wants, so what I really need to do is convince Evan he doesn’t want me anymore.”

  “How?” Nicolas asked.
<
br />   “Ever heard of an anti-love potion?”

  He shook his head.

  “Me neither, but there’s got to be a way to do it. Want to help?”

  “Absolutely.” He even smiled, which hopefully meant I had done a better job of convincing him than I had myself.

  14

  SOMEHOW, I SLEPT THAT NIGHT. IT could only have been the result of all the magical healing, because my skin still felt raw, the beanbags were still uncomfortable, Kaitlin still snored, and – oh, yeah – Grace Blair creeped me out. Her words haunted me, even though they made absolutely no sense at all. Of all the things I thought Evan would do to me, breaking my heart was not among them. I don’t know why, since he had never claimed to love me, but breaking my heart suggested that he would abandon me. That, I couldn’t see.

  And as for breaking my soul... What did that even mean? I thought of his claim that a soul could be trapped, but that couldn’t have anything to do with it. Could it? It’s not like I even had a gift that would make my soul worth trapping.

  Evan called early the next morning from somewhere in southern Arkansas, just to tell me that he and his father had picked up a magical trail they were pretty sure belonged to Mackenzie. Also, they might be out of cell phone range off and on throughout the day. I had a feeling he was keeping things from me, but then again, I didn’t volunteer any information about my trip to see Grace.

  Kaitlin sat at the kitchen table when I emerged from the bathroom, fully dressed and ready for the day. There was a half-eaten piece of dry toast on the table in front of her, and a faint gray cast to her skin.

  I sat down in the empty chair across from her. “It’s almost seven o’clock. Didn’t your shift start an hour ago?”

  “I don’t feel good.”

  “You called in sick?” My voice must have betrayed my shock because Kaitlin never called in sick, even if she felt sick. She always said that when you live paycheck to paycheck, you can’t afford luxuries like sick days.

  “I think it’ll pass. I had Kim come in early, and I’m going to go in for lunch and stay for dinner.”

  “I didn’t think dinner pulled in as much business as breakfast.”

  “It doesn’t, but it’s better than missing a day.” Kaitlin picked at her toast, but didn’t eat.

  “Listen, Kaitlin, I’ve got some cash. Evan’s paying me for the case I’m working, and it looks like the sheriff is finally relenting on the deputy job.” Without giving Kaitlin a chance to respond, I grabbed my purse from the couch, dug through it, and extracted the thousand dollars Evan had given me for the case.

  Kaitlin’s eyes went a bit wide when she saw the fistful of hundred dollar bills. “I can’t take all that.”

  “Of course you can.” I thrust the money across the table at her. “I owe you for rent and groceries, so here it is. Then maybe you can take the whole day off instead of just the morning. What’s wrong, anyway?”

  “Headache, sore throat, upset stomach, nothing that bad.” Kaitlin gave me an appraising look. “What happened to you, anyway? You look pretty sunburned.”

  “It’s not a sunburn.” Briefly, I described the events of the last couple of days.

  “So yesterday you nearly die of smoke inhalation and third degree burns, and today you just look like you spent too many hours in the sun?” Kaitlin sighed. “Sometimes, I want your life.”

  I recognized Kaitlin’s mood and resisted the urge to get into a fight over whose life sucked worse. It was never fruitful. “Have you taken any medicine?” I asked. “You said some of that stuff you keep in the bathroom cures aches and pains.”

  Kaitlin shook her head. “I don’t want to take any of that.”

  That was odd. I studied her expression carefully, but it was a mask. “How about some chamomile tea?”

  She hesitated, then gave me a slight nod.

  I set to work heating the water and getting out a mug for each of us. I didn’t convince Kaitlin to take the rest of the day off, but somehow, with a bit of this and that, I managed to send her to work feeling a little bit better than she had before.

  I spent the rest of the morning on the phone. I started with the local sheriff’s department, to find out if they had a positive ID on the bodies.

  “Yeah,” Deputy Hank said before I had a chance to ask. “It’s them.”

  I shut my eyes, tightly. “How did they do the ID?”

  “Dental records. Sent it off to the lab in Little Rock, but they got it back quick because it’s in all the local news.”

  At least we knew. That was something.

  Armed with that knowledge, I called the camp administration office to ask Nora for the names and phone numbers of every member of her staff. She tried to blow me off, but relented when I threatened to call Vera Goldstein to ask her to get the information.

  Neither of us wanted to bother the grieving mother.

  Then I started making lists. I wanted to know where everyone was when the girls disappeared, where everyone was when someone kidnapped me, and who owned the black Ford pickup.

  The last question took me no time at all to answer, especially since I already had my suspicions – the first few counselors I called confirmed that it was Mackenzie’s. Another piece of evidence against him, but I needed more before I could be certain of his guilt. Plus, I didn’t think he was acting alone.

  As for my other questions, that was going to take quite a bit of time. The camp was closing, and now that the manhunt was over, the staff was in the process of packing up and going home. I did hear some rumors that Renee Layne, the girls’ counselor, had been seen fleeing the stable fire, but by eleven o’clock, all I really had to show for my morning’s efforts were dozens of voice-mail messages.

  Finally, when all that was done, I decided to check in with the sheriff.

  “Cassie,” the sheriff said when he picked up, “it’s about time you called. I did some looking and can’t find any other ghost bank robbers, at least not in Missouri or Arkansas.”

  That didn’t surprise me. “If this is an isolated incident, odds are that you’ll never find out who did it.”

  “So, what – we’re hoping that the bank robber strikes again?”

  “I wouldn’t say we’re hoping that happens, but basically, yeah.”

  There was silence on the other end of the line for a minute. “I’m not sure if this is related or not...”

  “What do you have?” I asked.

  “Well, over the past couple of weeks we’ve received a few reports of shoplifting from some of the downtown businesses. In one case, about two hundred dollars went missing from the cash register, which might have been an inside job except that the only person working was the store owner, and she swore she heard the cash register open and close while she was helping a customer.”

  “But she never saw anyone?”

  “No.”

  “Did she have a security system?”

  “No.” The sheriff sighed. “None of these businesses do. Video surveillance is a bit expensive for a small business, and by the same token, shoplifting can be pretty damaging. The other missing items were jewelry or small but somewhat valuable knick-knacks – at least pricey enough that the stores noticed they were missing. The two pieces of jewelry, diamond earrings and an emerald ring, were in locked display cases. No one saw anything, but of course, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. We all know shoplifting happens, but we don’t usually see a string of it like this.”

  “But why would someone who was going to steal fifty thousand dollars from a bank stoop to random grabs from jewelry and antique shops?”

  “You’re right. I was just throwing it out there.”

  I didn’t want to discount the sheriff’s hunches. He had been in this business for a long time. If he thought to bring up the other robberies, then I wasn’t inclined to dismiss them so easily, but what did that add up to? Someone out to make random trouble?

  “You know,” I said slowly, “the bank robbery was a bit sloppy.”

>   “Oh, how?”

  “Well, whoever it was picked up the bags of money and let people see them floating around for a few seconds before he extended the field of invisibility to cover them.”

  “So what does that tell us?” the sheriff asked.

  “I don’t know yet. But if you get another report of shoplifting, let me know.”

  * * *

  Near noon, I decided to stretch my legs and grab some lunch at the diner. I hoped to run into Madison there. I hadn’t spoken to her since the day I’d seen her with Evan, and I found my natural curiosity piqued by the encounter. Town gossip hadn’t done much to fill in the possibilities, at least, not when I had asked Kaitlin about it. She would know, too, working at gossip central. Plus, she paid special attention to anything involving Evan, because she didn’t trust him with me. Neither did I, but so far, I hadn’t found a way to tell either her or Madison about the debt.

  My new apartment was a good mile from the diner, and the afternoon was hot, but thanks to a few centering techniques, I kept the heat from becoming too oppressive. The same techniques allowed me to deep listen to the world around me, from traffic to birdsong. It all fit into a pattern of sorts, and I could sometimes tell when the pieces didn’t fit.

  Minutes after leaving the apartment, the hairs on the back of my neck began to stand on end, the same way they had done the week before when, it turned out, Evan had been following me. Except Evan couldn’t be following me now, because he and his father were hours away, on the trail of a potential killer. Still, the earlier experience made me feel more inclined to listen to my instincts, so I ducked into a shop. I made my way to the back, then left through a door leading to an alley.

  I had barely gone three steps before I ran smack into something solid that hadn’t been there a moment before. Reeling, I stepped back to see the werewolf – Scott Lee – blocking my path. I started to back away, but he clamped a hand around my forearm to keep me in place.

  “Evan asked me to keep an eye on you while he was gone,” Scott said.

  “He did what?” I tried to jerk my arm away, but with no success.

  “How did you know I was following you?”