Super Freak

by Vanessa Barger

  Elspeth Bennings. The woman who had been trying to talk to me through the walls.

  I pulled up a chair and opened the book, flipping through the pages. I was lucky. The journal was only half-filled. I checked the door lock one more time, then sat down at the desk and began to read.

  By the time someone tried to open the door, I had gotten almost all the way through the journal. My neck hurt, and I had more information about Elspeth Bennings, but not much clue what to look for. Some things in the journal led me to believe someone might have been after Elspeth. But at the same time, each journal entry got harder to understand. She had left things out on purpose, but I couldn’t figure out what it meant. I knew I should read between the lines, I just couldn’t figure out the message.

  Tears flooded my eyes. I wished Diana were with me. She would have winked and said something outrageous. We’d have laughed and tried again. But she wasn’t, and it was up to me to understand why.

  The door handle rattled again and I closed the book, replacing it in the drawer and then hiding in a corner of the room. Just as I slid behind a stack of boxes, the door opened and Dad stepped inside, looking around.

  “She’s not in here,” he said, talking to someone over his shoulder. “Check outside. Maybe she went for a walk.”

  There was a note of panic in his voice that made me wince, and I stood up. “I’m right here,” I said.

  He spun, turning to me. “Thank goodness, Caroline. I thought something happened to you.”

  I shook my head. “No. I just needed to get away.”

  It didn’t take much effort to look and sound pitiful. He pulled me into his arms when I climbed from behind the boxes. “I know, sweetheart. But we’ll find her. She’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

  I’m not sure who he was trying to comfort–me or himself. His arms squeezed a little tighter and he led me from the room, locking the door behind us. His eyes slid to mine, but I couldn’t read his expression. If he worried about what I might find there, it was too late for that. And I wouldn’t return again. I’d gotten what I needed. The pieces of the puzzle whirled around my head. I read enough of the journal to realize the pages I kept upstairs tucked inside a notebook at the bottom of my desk drawers were torn from it. Without them, several important pieces of information were left out.

  My parents herded me back into the kitchen, where yet another police officer made me repeat what happened this morning. This one, however, added a question. “Was there anything else that seemed unusual? Did you see anyone earlier in the evening or hear anything suspicious.”

  My eyes jumped to his and I nodded slowly. Everyone in the room stopped talking. “We went downstairs for some … snacks. We stopped in the living room, goofing around with the flashlights, and we saw someone outside.”

  The officer, a man named Detective Crowne, didn’t question what we were doing with the flashlights, thank God. “What did you see?”

  “Someone out front wearing a hood and cape. They were staring at the birch. And then another man came and attacked him. Diana and I made some noise and they heard it and ran off away from the house.”

  Detective Crowne seemed know something had been left out. A line appeared between his brows, but he just made me repeat everything three times, drawing details out of me I didn’t realize I’d noticed. Height, whether they seemed older or younger, and what direction exactly they had run. I even, reluctantly, told him one of the men put something outside next to the tree.

  He sent out an officer to look, but they came back empty-handed. No tracks in the earth near the tree, nothing out of the ordinary. All respect for me drained from his face. It was clear he thought I wanted attention, so I’d made up the men. It was written in the deep frown lines on either side of his mouth. The hopeful glint in Crowne’s eye disappeared.

  Anger burned in my belly. Diana was my best friend, and they all thought I was some sort of freak basking in the attention. They probably thought I instigated it. My hands curled into fists on my knees.

  “I’m not lying,” I said, my fingernails biting into my palms. “They were there.”

  “But they left no tracks or evidence of any kind?”

  I tugged on my ponytail. “Maybe they used magic. I don’t know. But they were there.”

  It didn’t matter. I was a thirteen-year-old, devoid of magic, and they were adults, and everyone knew children didn’t know what they’re talking about. His attention moved away, and I was left sitting in my chair, trying to decide whether to yell or cry.

  I didn’t do either. If I made a scene they’d kick me out, and I wanted to know what they said and did. Two witches, part of the Magical Investigation Services Team or MIST, arrived a few minutes later. One was a tall, thin woman with piercings all over her face and combat boots weighing down her feet. The other was short, round, and dressed in pastel colors and flowing fabrics. They gave me a cursory glance and dismissed me.

  While I wanted to stick out my tongue, I resisted, sliding down a little farther in my chair. They spoke to Crowne in the corner, then headed out of the room. I moved to the doorway, watching them as they separated. The pastel one floated around the room, eyes closed, fingers waving in the air as if she played a piano only she could see. The other clomped around and frowned at everything. She looked like she had permanent PMS.

  They moved together as if it were a dance they had performed many times before. I returned to my seat in the kitchen instead of following them upstairs. When they came back, I wanted to hear what they found, if anything. They had to find something relating to whoever stole Diana.

  It took half an hour before they returned, empty-handed. Though the way they eyed my parents and whispered in Crowne’s ear made me uncomfortable. When he straightened from his chat with them, he looked pleased. The two women whispered together, stealing glances at me the entire time. My stomach dropped to my toes.

  “Mr. Bennings, the MIST team has discovered that your house has an … interesting feature. Are you aware someone has been practicing black magic in the tower?”

  On cue, every person in the kitchen, including my parents, turned and stared at me. I slid down in my chair and forced a laugh, but it came out as a strangled groan. “I don’t have any magic, remember?”

  The Goth-wannabe witch stepped forward, accusation in her voice. “With the proper equipment, one does not require magical talent to use black magic.”

  The pastel witch stepped forward, a strange smile on her face. My hopes rose. Maybe she’d defend me. “Especially if one uses the blood of a super in their ritual.”

  Goose pimples marched up my arms and I resisted the urge to run. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I wouldn’t. Diana was–is my best friend. I’m not even old enough to check out a history book that talks about black magic from the library!”

  No one seemed to believe me.

  Luckily, the questions paused when Diana’s father arrived. I was grateful he hadn’t been there a few minutes earlier when they accused me. He was a ghost of himself as he looked in the room at us with huge, haunted eyes, before the officer took him to a separate room to get his statement. I didn’t think I could stand it if he looked at me with the contempt the others had.

  I think the Goth tried to test me with a spell while I was distracted. As I tried not to cry when Mr. Elliot’s eyes met mine, she started whispering something softly in the seat across from me. I looked back at her, and when I didn’t react, her frown got even deeper, if that’s possible. Maybe her face would freeze that way.

  The police questioned us for two more hours before they left. As they were gathering their things, Detective Crowne cleared his throat and pinned Dad with a hard stare.

  “Don’t leave town, Mr. Bennings. You all need to stay where we can contact you until this case has been solved.”

  He might have been looking at my dad, but the MIST women had all eyes on me. My best friend was missing, and as far as they were concerned, I was suspect
number one.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Monday was Hell on Earth.

  I woke up, hoping the entire weekend was a bad dream. When I got downstairs in the morning, I wouldn’t find my parents watching me with a new level of mistrust. That hurt the most, I thought. Despite being proved innocent of the graffiti incident, and how my parents said they didn’t believe I could do it, there was doubt there now.

  No one on the bus would look at me. Only Leo offered a small smile, but when he moved to turn and talk to me, his brother jerked on his arm and forced him to stay seated. Word travels fast in a small town.

  I caught bits of whispered conversations, most of which involved Diana’s name, mine, and the words “dead” and “black magic.” Ignoring it was impossible. I wanted to jump on the seat and yell that I didn’t do it; I was innocent. But it would mean acknowledging them, and I wasn’t going to do that either. So I stared at my Rubik’s cube on the short ride, pretending to be stumped by a puzzle I’d solved over a million times. When the bus pulled up in front of the building, I was already standing, balanced on the balls of my feet, ready to sprint for the door. I was desperate to get off the bus. Leo tried to catch my sleeve, but I didn’t stop to see what he wanted. I jumped the last few steps to the concrete.

  Mr. Grouseman stood there, waiting for me. “Come with me, Ms. Bennings.”

  His gruff words and stern face made my already trampled heart fall to my feet. But I fisted my hands and shoved them in my pockets, following him inside the building. I kept my eyes to the ground. The whispers and comments seemed louder in my ears than they really were.

  He led me into his office, shutting the door behind me and motioned for me to sit down.

  “Am I in trouble, Mr. Grouseman?” I asked.

  He sat down. “No, Caroline, I didn’t bring you in here to accuse you of anything.”

  His expression relaxed, and the stern principal melted away, leaving a sadness that made my eyes water. Or maybe it was just the stress of the morning.

  Mr. Grouseman pushed a box of tissues toward me. As he did, a bracelet fell from under the cuff of his sleeve, and my entire body focused on the gold locket. The etching on the front was exactly the same as the one I pulled out of the wall.

  His hand moved when mine did not, pulled a tissue from the box, and handed it to me.

  “I wondered if you’d found it yet. Obviously you have.”

  I jumped and looked up to find him watching me with admiration. “What?”

  He pulled back his shirtsleeve, revealing the bracelet and the ring of scar tissue around his wrist. Unhooking the chain he held it out to me.

  I took it, glancing at him for a nod before sliding my thumbnail into the side and popping the locket open. Inside, on the left, was a tiny portrait of Elspeth Bennings. On the right, a lock of dark hair.

  “I don’t understand, Mr. Grouseman. Was this your great-grandfathers’?”

  He laughed, and the sound rolled around the office, genuinely amused. “I brought you in here, Caroline, to prove something to you.”

  That was weird. “I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises.”

  “No, I imagine not,” he said, his smile turning a little sad. “But there are quite a few left, I can assure you.”

  I waited, handing the locket back.

  “Did you find the matching locket? It’s silver, with a lock of hair and a different picture.”

  I nodded. “Yes. But the picture was damaged. You can’t tell who it is anymore.”

  He seemed disappointed. “Well, I suppose it’s to be expected. Where did she hide it?”

  No way. I wasn’t giving that away. Not yet. “What does it mean? And what does this have to do with pulling me in. No offense, but you aren’t helping my image by keeping me in here after everything this weekend.”

  He put the bracelet back on. “I know, and I’m sorry for it. But I wanted you to know there are at least two people here at the school who know you aren’t responsible for what happened to Diana.”

  I leaned forward. “Really?”

  His throat worked, and a frustrated growl escaped his mouth. Something was preventing him from speaking certain words. “Yes. I know you didn’t do it.”

  “But how? Everyone else seems convinced.”

  Mr. Grouseman rose, placing a hand on the doorknob. “Because I was one of the men outside that night at the birch tree.”

  Then he opened the door, waving a hand ahead of him. A million questions flitted through my mind, but the secretaries sat outside his door, their heads craned in our direction. I glared and he smiled, shrugging a little.

  Why would he bring me in to tell me something like that, and then make me leave without answering any questions? It made no sense at all. Unless somehow, Mr. Grouseman was involved against his will and couldn’t tell me anything. I looked back over my shoulder at him, turning the thought over in my mind. He wore a locket with Elspeth’s picture in it. He knew what the other held, what it looked like, and that she hid it in Harridan House. And he never actually answered my question about whether the locket had been his great-grandfather’s.

  I slid into my seat in Paranormal Ethics, a spear of pain cutting through me at the sight of Diana’s empty desk. Leo sat on the other side mouthing the word “lunch” to me. I nodded. Lunch was going to be torture. Kevin would follow Leo and he’d make snide comments the entire time. Just how I wanted to spend my time.

  Ms. Widdershins started writing new notes for another case on the board and I flipped open my notebook, writing what she wrote. But I didn’t really hear a word. My mind replayed my conversation with the principal over and over. He said two people in school knew I hadn’t kidnapped Diana. I assumed he meant me. But what if he didn’t? Who was the other person? A student? I didn’t think so. Leo would know I didn’t, but I watched Ms. Widdershins. If I had to bet on it, I think he meant her. No one else made any sense.

  Not like I could just walk up and ask her. She avoided looking at me since I walked in. Not like usual. For once, she picked on other people in the class. But once or twice, I did catch her watching me, a sheen of sweat on her upper lip and something I couldn’t name in her eyes. She went through class fast, her normal pace disrupted by something. She was so flustered she actually dropped the chalk twice while writing.

  Not that I cared much. My brain was focused on all the pieces of the puzzle. Whenever I solved the mysteries Dad gave me before, I could see the puzzles in my head like they were on a mat. It was just a matter of getting enough clues to make the edges fit. This time, whenever I thought I had a few pieces together, something would come along and slide them out of place.

  My mind turned again to the locket as I watched Ms. Widdershins fiddling with her monocle while she quizzed a couple girls in the front row. Mr. Grouseman was a shifter. They aged slowly. Diana and I laughed when we compared him to the picture, but maybe we’d been too quick. What if the Mr. Grouseman that Elspeth mentioned falling in love with in her diary and the one I’d spoken to were the same?

  Breath seemed to stick in my throat. Supers lived a long time, but it was strange that so many of the town founders would still be living in the same town together. And then pretend not to know one another.

  There was no common ancestor, no common bond. They were shifters, vampires, dryads, and witches. Maybe even Ms. Widdershins was the one pictured, not her relative. If they were all still here, some of them for an unnaturally long time, there was a reason.

  What secret were they keeping?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Leo kept me occupied during lunch, but by the end of the day, I was done. I wanted to tear my hair out and run screaming from the building. No one would talk to me, and the ones I did have to talk to (thanks to Mr. Darcy’s group work) looked at me with terror. I’m pretty sure one girl thought I would eat her alive if she blinked while looking at me.

  I tried to find Mr. Grouseman again, but he seemed to have
disappeared. I thought about confronting Ms. Widdershins, but I knew that would be a poor life choice.

  Instead, I trudged to the buses, dragging my feet and wishing for a paper bag or something to cover my head with. At least then I wouldn’t have to see everyone staring.

  Things at home weren’t much better. Mom moped around, thin willow branches mixing with her hair and tiny leaves fluttering behind her everywhere she went. Even Dad’s skin seemed rougher; more like bark than flesh. He locked himself in the study, bent over books and papers, and I knew he searched for answers he wouldn’t find.

  I debated showing him what we found, but it was too late. If I showed him in the beginning, maybe things wouldn’t have gotten out of hand. Or maybe he’d be missing now, not Diana. Somehow, our family returning to Harridan House set all of this in motion. I didn’t think it would have mattered if I told or not.

  The thought wasn’t much help. I still felt miserable.

  My room seemed dark and depressing now, and I jumped at every sigh and creak. Each time I followed the sound, hoping Diana would appear. It didn’t happen.

  It was this paranoia that made me ignore her the first three times. I’d tossed and turned for hours after I went to bed. Everyone’s whispers and the MIST’s accusations rattled around in my head until I didn’t think I’d get any peace.

  I woke in the middle of the night, my heart pounding, convinced I’d heard Diana call my name.

  Pressing the pillow over my head, I let it soak up my tears. I was going nuts. Insane–hearing voices. Next, I would be seeing her standing in my room. I shoved the pillow down and held my breath, waiting for the sound. Nothing happened.

  Twice more I woke, certain she called me. Twice more I fell asleep. In the morning, my head ached and I dragged my feet going downstairs. School wasn’t really on my priority list at the moment.

  Leo surprised me at lunchtime, walking in the doors and making a beeline for our table. When he got close, he spread his arms and wrapped me in an awkward hug. It was weird, but at the same time, tears pricked at the corners of my eyes.