Rebel Princess - Book 2 (The Hope Saga)

by Chrissy Peebles

  “Acts of violence don’t come out of nowhere,” I said. “There has to be a motive, even if it is a psychotic one.”

  “Who are the first suspects who come to mind?” Rachel asked. “List ‘em off the top of your head.”

  “Carla,” I snapped, “but 90 percent of killers are men.”

  “Carla definitely has anger issues, but is she really capable of murder?”

  Brett shook his head. “Nah, it isn’t her. Most serial killers come from unstable families and hate their parents. Carla has the most loving parents in the world, and she adores them.”

  Rachel cocked a brow. “So we’re looking at…a dysfunctional loner?”

  I shook my head. “Think about it. Nobody down here fits that description. We all live too close together. Nobody could be a reclusive social misfit in these close quarters. I can’t really think of any oddballs either. Whoever it is, they’re hiding in plain sight. It’s somebody we all know and love.”

  Rachel swallowed hard. “That’s scary.”

  “So he’s a psychopath who seems…normal,” Brett said. “I guess we just need to keep an eye out for a psycho who appears…normal,” Brett said.

  “Gee, that narrows it down,” Rachel said with an uneasy laugh.

  We spent hours discussing several ideas and all sorts of possible scenarios and situations. In the long run, we weren’t much closer to finding the killer, but I was glad we were at least able to talk about it.

  Chapter 12

  I lay on my bed and poured all of my thoughts out into my journal, and I was thankful for the opportunity to express my emotions. On those pages, I could openly vent about how trapped and isolated I felt, as a result of our controlling government. I could say all the things it wasn’t safe to talk about. My feelings and all my pain were only between me, my pen, and my paper, and that brought me clarity, helped me to focus. The journal was truly a window to my soul, a safe place for my innermost desires. I wanted to feel that my life mattered, that I could truly make a difference in our new world, and writing it all down in my journal helped me organize my messy thoughts. I enjoyed those moments when I could be alone with my thoughts, but I would die if anyone ever found that book and read it.

  Rachel tapped on my door. “You ready?” she asked.

  I quickly shoved my journal into my bottom drawer and locked it. “Yep.”

  After we left my place, we delivered a few supplies to Annie’s mom. I wasn’t sure how else to show my support to a woman who’d just lost her daughter to the cruel hands of the Asha strangler, suppose I figured it was the least we could do. The poor, grieving lady’s hair was disheveled, and I couldn’t help but notice the black circles under her eyes. My heart went out to her. No one should have to outlive their child, I thought. She didn’t say much while we were there, and I completely understood.

  ”Girls…” she finally called out, just as we were making our way out the door.

  “Yes?” I said. “Is there something else we can do for you?”

  “I heard that you and Rachel are trying to find the murderer, that monster who killed my baby.”

  “Yes. I didn’t mean to stir up anything. It’s just that—”

  “I just wanted to thank you,” she said. “Mr. Tams is useless, and the authorities aren’t doing much. My poor Annie was strangled, murdered, and none of the adults around here are doing anything about it. It means the world to me that you want to help, but I don’t want you to make targets of yourselves in the process. If that killer harms either of you or anyone else…” she said, trailing off and shaking her head as a tear formed in her eye.

  “You want us to stop?”

  “Well, someone has to figure this all out, but I’m afraid you’re putting bulls’-eyes on your backs.” She pointed down to a pile of papers haphazardly strewn about the kitchen table, then to several notes scattered all over the coffee table. “As you can see, I’ve been doing a little investigating of my own.”

  “We haven’t found any solid leads,” I replied, “but we’ve been talking to everyone.”

  “That’s not a good idea, Sky.”

  We talked for a few more minutes, then left. I understood why she was frightened about our involvement, but I didn’t want to stop our investigation. As Rachel had asked her questions, I’d sneaked a few peeks at her notes, and what I’d read had floored me. When we were a good ways down the corridor, I stopped and said, “She had some interesting ideas scribbled down back there.”

  “Like what?”

  “Well, for starters, the killer apparently took a swatch of Annie’s hair. Also, her turquoise ring is missing, a ring she wore every day. If we can find who has that ring or her hair, we’ll find our killer.”

  “Ew! Her hair? That’s pretty disturbing,” Rachel said. “I didn’t even see you reading those notes back there.”

  “Yeah, well, just call me Little Miss Inconspicuous. It helps when I’m there with you blabbing away,” I said with a wink.

  “Very funny,” she said with a smirk. “But the killer’s taking trophies from his victims, huh?” she said, wrinkling up her forehead as if she was struggling to make sense of it.

  “Yeah. He’s obviously a sicko,” I answered. “When killers keep mementos like that, it’s usually so they can fantasize about the crime.”

  “Ew!”

  “I know. We’ve got a maniac on the loose, that’s for sure.”

  Her eyes widened in horror. “That’s so gross. Who could keep souvenirs of something like that? Who could enjoy such a thing, want to remember it? This guy’s a psychopath, and he’s probably already targeting future victims.”

  “Exactly…and that’s why we have to stop him.”

  When we went back to my apartment, a pot of flowers sat just outside the door. Some girls might have been delighted, but it didn’t impress me in the least. In fact, it almost made me nauseous.

  “That secret admirer of yours is nothing if not persistent,” Rachel said.

  “Yeah,” I said, blowing out a breath and grimacing at the pot.

  “Look! There’s another note.”

  “Maybe we shouldn’t read it, shouldn’t indulge him,” I suggested.

  “No, I think we should see what he has to say. Maybe it’ll tell me more about how I’m gonna die.”

  “That’s not funny!”

  “I’m kidding, Sky. Just read it.”

  I reached down and picked up the note, my heart fluttering; I didn’t want to read another word about my friends’ apparently unavoidable demise. I unfolded the note, stared at it intently for a moment, then read it out loud: ”They don’t care about you, but I do.

  Rachel raised a brow. “Who? Who doesn’t care about you?”

  “I’m guessing he’s talking about Dante and his goons. Gee, why doesn’t he tell me something I don’t know? Maybe something I said has gotten back to Dante and his minions.”

  “You’ve gotta learn to keep that mouth of your shut, before the powers-that-be start seeing you as…a liability.”

  “Yeah, well, keeping my mouth shut isn’t the easiest thing for me to do, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  She half-laughed. “Gee. Why don’t you tell me something I don’t know?”

  Chapter 13

  “Hey, thanks, Jeremy,” I said to Carla’s brother when he helped me carry tons of seeds to the greenhouse.

  “Not a problem,” he said.

  Jeremy was tall and a year older than me. He was muscular, buff, and definitely cute and he didn’t have a nasty attitude like his sister’s. I’d tried to set him up with Rachel, but it had never quite worked out.

  “Look, Sky, I know you and my sister don’t get along. She can be a real…well, you know. I told Carla she needs to quit her crap,” he said, “but she probably won’t. She never listens to me. Hell, she never listens to anyone.”

  I smiled. “That’s okay, Jeremy. It isn’t your fault. That girl sure can carry a grudge.”

  “Yeah, I don’t think she eve
r got over that guy,” he said.

  “I know. I do kinda feel bad about it still.”

  He wiped the sweat off his forehead. “Boy, it sure is hot in here.”

  “We have to keep the humidity high for the plants.”

  “Isn’t it hard to work in here, melting all day?” he asked.

  “Nah, I’m pretty used to it.”

  He looked around. “It’s so pretty and green in here.”

  “It is. I love this place.”

  Jeremy pointed to a cluster of trays. “Is that grass?” he asked. “A little treat for one of Brett’s goats?”

  I chuckled. “It’s barley. And yes, sometimes we slip his cow or goat some.”

  “I honestly thought it was grass. I know absolutely nothing.”

  “I can tell you about some of the plants, if you like,” I said.

  “Wow. You’re a fountain of agricultural knowledge. I admire that about you,” he said, grinning.

  I walked him through the greenhouse, explaining what I knew about each variety of plant and flower. I was surprised that he seemed to hang on my every word, and it was a bit flattering that someone actually wanted to listen to me ramble on about leaves and roots and potting soil. Brett always listened to me, but I could tell his mind often wandered off to more exciting things, as if my plants bored him; the only plants Brett seemed interested in were my strawberries, and he could never get enough of them.

  Jeremy motioned up to the rows of gutters hanging from the ceiling, thick leaves spilling over the sides. “You sure make use of all your space.”

  I trimmed a bushy plant with a sharp knife, dropping the greens into a plastic tub. “Yeah, well, I’ve got so little of it that I have to make every inch work.”

  “How many harvests can you get from one species of plant?”

  “Usually two, but some produce four. It all depends.”

  “Anything I can do to help?” he asked.

  My jaw dropped in stunned amazement. “You wanna help me in here? In the muggy greenhouse, with all this dirt? Wow. I never get that kind of offer.”

  His green eyes twinkled. “I’m at your beck and call.”

  I handed him a bucket filled with brown water and manure. “Okay. Here’s your first job.”

  He gagged. “Ew! That smells like shit.”

  I laughed. “It is. It’s shit soup.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.”

  He picked up the ladle. “I can’t believe you’re making me do this. This is a crock of shit.”

  “Yeah…literally.”

  We both burst out in laughter.

  “So, uh…what do I do with it?” he asked, stretching his t-shirt over his nose.

  “Pour a teaspoon over each plant.”

  As he began scooping out the pungent mixture, he asked, “Where’d you get your green thumb from anyway?”

  “My grandma. She was quite the lady.”

  “She musta been. She saved us all, and that makes her a hero in my book.”

  “Thanks. I think about her a lot, and I wish she was here. I picture her and my mom running through the flower fields in heaven, having a blast.”

  “What do you remember the most about your grandma?”

  “She taught me how to work hard and to fight for what I believe in. She also had a great sense of humor and loved to play pranks on me. When I was little, she used to tease and scare me and my siblings by taking out her false teeth. She got the biggest kick out of our reactions. I can still remember her laugh. My memories of her are priceless.”

  He continued watering the plants, slowly moving down the line. “That’s nice.”

  “I loved going over to visit our grandparents, and we kids were a big part of Grandma’s life. She just loved us to death. I always stopped by before and after school, and she’d tell me stories about her world travels. She collected mugs and had one from every state. I loved her Christmas mugs most of all. I loved my grandpa too. He was her soulmate, and he always knew how to make me smile. Fishing was his passion, and he always promised that he’d take me once we returned to the surface. ‘We’ll snag the biggest one there is!’ he used to say. I’ve decided that when I do finally get up there, that’s one of the first things I’m gonna do.”

  “Go fishing?”

  “Yep. I still remember everything he taught me about baiting my hook and casting my line, and I want to make him proud.”

  “He sounds like a great man.”

  “My grandparents were the greatest. I can’t believe they died from carbon monoxide poisoning just a few days before my mom.”

  “That musta been such a horrible blow to take,” Jeremy said, scrunching up his nose at a particularly stinky ladle of murky water.

  “Yeah. In just a matter of days, I lost so many people who meant so much to me.” I paused, then finally said, “I still remember the day when my mom sat me down and told me the awful news about Grandma and Grandpa. I was devastated and felt lost without them. I ran out of the apartment and threw all the chairs in the south dining room, crying and sobbing with rage and anger. I totally lost it. Then, when my mom died shortly thereafter, I was a basket case. It’s all a blur now, but I’ll never forget the pain. It was like somebody stabbed me in the heart. I still miss them, and I will never stop loving them.”

  “I’m so sorry,” he said, with a heartfelt honesty I was sure his sister could never muster.

  “No, I’m the one who should be sorry. Here you are, helping me, and I’m being a downer. I-I didn’t mean to be such a killjoy.”

  “You’re never that, Sky.”

  “Thanks, Jeremy.”

  “I’m sure they’re looking down at you with a big smile.”

  “I hope so.”

  “I understand the pain of grief. The strangler killed my cousin. She was the second victim.”

  “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry. That strangler is a wretched, soulless being. I delivered your aunt some beautiful flowers for the memorial service. Also, your eulogy was so…beautiful and touching.”

  “I meant every word of it.”

  “I know you did. I’m sure your cousin smiled, wherever she is, when you sang and played on your guitar. She was so loved, and we all miss her terribly.”

  “I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it. Sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating.”

  “I know. I still feel that way.”

  “She was so bossy,” he whispered, smiling tentatively. “I used to tell her how much I hated it, but now I’d given anything to hear her telling me to quit being such a slob.”

  “I know how hard it is, and everyone grieves in their own way, their own time. There are no rules, and it’s really a personal thing. Losing someone who is close to you is painful and traumatic. I’ve experienced all kinds of difficult and surprising emotions, but it’s completely normal for it to be frightening and overwhelming. We just have to accept these feelings as part of the normal grieving process. They tell me the pain is necessary for healing, but I’m not sure. I mean, it’s been years, but I still have these paralyzing moments when I just cry and break down. I miss my grandparents, but I miss my mom every second of every day.”

  “I know it can’t be easy. If you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m here…and I do understand.”

  “Thanks, Jeremy.” I glanced down at his empty bucket. “Good job with the watering. Wanna help me pick the tomatoes?”

  “Sure!”

  I pointed at the long line of tomato plants in cardboard trays. “Just pick the red ones and place them in this steel bowl.”

  He reached for a tomato and laughed when I reached for the same one.

  “You must think I’m a huge nerd working in this hot place with only plants to talk to. Your sister has so many nasty nicknames for me because of it.”

  “Consider the source. She’s an idiot…and she’s jealous of you.”

  “Jealous?”

  “Sure. You grow vegetables year round. The average Joe down here doesn’
t have what it takes to sprout seeds into big, beautiful plants that we can use for food. What you do here is amazing.”

  “Thanks. The most important thing is to remember to have fun.”

  He reached into the towering forest of tomato plants. “And that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

  We had a great time, and because he helped me so much, I knew I’d be done in half the time and be back in Brett’s arms sooner than expected.

  A little while later, the door creaked open, and Daryl walked in. I was instantly worried that a fight would erupt in my peaceful little greenhouse, because Jeremy and Daryl hated each other. They’d been good friends before, and they worked together as security guards, but at the funeral of Jeremy’s murdered cousin, things had gotten a bit heated, and they’d both blamed each other for the murder. Things had gotten so out of hand that they’d both been escorted out, and they hadn’t been friends since that horrible fight.

  “Get away from her!” Daryl snapped.

  “Daryl,” I said, “I’m fine.”

  “Fine? This asshole’s unstable as hell. For all you know, you could be hanging out all alone in here with the strangler!”

  “What!?” Jeremy said. “I work with you, Daryl, and we both know you have plenty of opportunity to whisk a girl away and wring her neck. You have keys to every room, just like I do.”

  Just as Daryl went to lunge at him, I stepped in his path. “This nonsense stops now!” I screamed. “What are you doing here anyway?”

  “Making sure you’re okay. Your aunt asked me to stop by.”

  “Well, that’s nice, but I’m fine. I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself. If you boys can’t behave, you can take it outside,” I said. I then escorted both guys out of the greenhouse, before they had a chance to knock all my precious plants to the floor, destroying all my hard work. “I’m gonna go now,” I said, locking the door. “Thanks for all your help, Jeremy.” And with that, I walked down the hall to spend some time with Brett.

  He held me in his arms and nothing was better. We talked about everything and after a long talk, we decided to stay in Asha. Sneaking away would cause too many complications. If we found a legal way to leave, we would. I guess for now, we’d just hang tight. Rachel couldn’t be happier. I also couldn’t bear to take Brett away when I know he didn’t want to go. I’d just stick it out for now…unless things got worse.