And who did Christa think she was, screwing things up with Troy? That was none of her business. The truth was it wasn't just the money. She'd made a mistake, but she'd loved Troy. It took a lot of time, and a lot of men, to move on after that. And, of course, as soon as she had her eye set on Doug, Auburn's long-lost sweetheart returned. The Fairchilds were the worst thing to ever happen to Auburn.
Susan pounded on the door. “Ada?” She tapped her foot. “Ada!”
The guilt about the money, about running Bernadette out of town, had been eating away at her all the while the cancer ate away at Susan's mother. When she saw that girl in town again it was easier to put the blame on her for everything than let the regret take over, especially while Doug and the whole country fawned all over her.
But no one was supposed to get hurt. She'd paid the man to start a little fire. He'd been happy to do it, the way they treated him at that diner. She knew the feeling. She didn't think he'd try to attack Bernadette like that, or that he'd end up unconscious in the hospital. It was time to put a stop to this.
“Ada, where are you?” It was just like that old woman to keep someone waiting like this.
There was a rustling of bushes at the side of the house, and Ada shuffled around in her gardening shoes and big hat. She clutched a big pair of pruners in her hand. When she saw Susan she stopped short, her eyes growing as large as the peonies under the front window.
“I thought you were going to leave me here all day.” Susan turned sharply and met Ada at the side of the house, since it was apparent she was no longer capable of moving.
Susan thrust an envelope into Ada's hand. Ada stared at it, then turned her eyes back to Susan.
“What?” Susan snapped. “Just wanted to do my part.” And with that she flipped her hair and hurried back to her SUV.
Chapter 22
Pacify the Dead
Mina crept out the back door, holding her breath as it clicked shut behind her.
She had to try to make this problem go away by herself. Bernie didn't have to know, and neither did the rest of the town. And if there were no more unexplained incidents outside the diner, Calvin would pack up his sweater vests and go. Her life would be back to normal.
But she wasn't sure what normal was now. Her closest friend had pulled her livelihood out from under her, and just as she'd decided she wanted her sister back she was in danger of losing her. But she could try to make a new kind of life; maybe become a copywriter or editor from home, and if, by some miracle, Bernie stayed she wouldn't have to get the cats.
The May air was mild, but Mina pulled her sweater around her. She tightly clutched the bundle of sage Leona had given her. A bold half-moon gave her enough light to see by, but it was still dark enough to imagine someone peering at her from behind every house she passed, and every sound a footstep behind her.
She swallowed, her throat tight, as she approached the diner. It was late. The parking spots were all empty, every shop dark. As she walked under the streetlights she felt like a mouse who had just crossed paths with the beam of a flashlight. She wanted to dart under the eaves of Doug's, slink into the shadows.
Instead she sucked in a deep breath and held her head high as she walked to the clean new sidewalk where the crack used to be.
“Bernie's mother, I'm here to send you home.”
She thought she felt a tremor beneath her and warm air seep up from the concrete.
Mina held the sage out. She pulled a lighter out of her pocket, and with shaking hands, she lit the end of the dry bundle. She watched the orange flame expand, then she shook it until it died out. Mina watched the smoke rise as it smoldered. Then she rotated her wrist as she walked clockwise around the area.
She felt like she should say something, but what do you say to an angry ghost? She remembered what Leona told her. The spirit might not know how to leave. She might be afraid, or tethered here by her concern for her daughter. But Mina didn't forget that three people had been hurt already. There was no telling how this ghost might respond to her efforts.
“I know you're angry. Your daughter was taken from you, and your life was cut short. But if you're worried about Bernie, you should know she's okay. Well, she's kind of a mess right now, but she's going to be okay.”
She hoped what she'd said was true. Bernie just had to figure out what made her truly happy, and forget about what other people thought. Then again, if it was that easy, Mina would have figured it out by now.
The ground shook. What made her think she'd communicate any better with the dead than with the living?
“I'm going to do a better job of watching out for her; I promise.” She never should have left Bernie on her own like that, with all those people using and manipulating her. She should have put aside her pride and reached out to her, to let her know she would always support her.
“You can move on. Be at peace.”
The ground rumbled again. She should have guessed any relative of Bernie's wasn't going to make things easy.
A gust of wind lifted Mina's hair, sending chills through her. She rubbed at the goosebumps on her arms, then gave the sage a good shake. She wasn't going to give up easily either. She placed one foot before the other, continuing in the circle. She stumbled as the shaking beneath her feet continued. Mina jumped, barely keeping her balance as the concrete tore open again. The wind whipped around her, and Mina was thrown to the ground.
When she opened her eyes, she didn't know how long she'd lain there. At first she couldn't move. It was as if hard, dark earth pressed in on her from every side, rendering her paralyzed. Her mind was filled with fog. Pushing herself into a sitting position took several minutes, as if the intricate relationship between brain and muscle was long forgotten.
She squinted. Things looked different. More solid, even in the darkness.
She clenched her jaw and squeezed her fists as the intense desire for a fix washed over her. It filled her mind like an eternal madness. Her punishment. Her own personal hell.
She stood slowly and walked stiffly down the road. Her arms and legs ached as she placed one in front of the other. She hadn't felt pain in so long.
It was strange, being able to leave this place after being tethered here for so long. She hoped she could remember the way. She searched the borrowed mind for information. It was this way. The body was already moving to its destination as if by habit. Drawn to home.
Chapter 23
Evan’s Web
Bernadette was roused by a knock on the front door. She rolled over, pulling her pillow over her head. It came again. Finally the sleep-fog cleared from her mind. She had to answer it. Why hadn't Mina answered the door? She was the lighter sleeper. Mina probably hadn't let in anyone but Gladys or Frank in a very long time. This confident knock didn't sound like Gladys or Frank. Now that her brain was beginning to function, she knew who it was.
She slumped out of bed and pulled her silky robe around her, then shuffled toward the front door. She pulled it open. Evan stood on her front porch, hand raised and ready to knock again.
“Evan, what the—”
He held out a bouquet of white lilies.
She pressed her hand over her eyes. Lilies were Evan's favorite. He'd always said, with some amount of pride, that they were so much more original than roses. She hated the scent of lilies. They smelled like bologna. And yet he kept bringing them. They filled the house in white, yellow, and pink. It was beginning to make her sick.
When she didn't take them, he threw them on the porch.
“What more do you want me to do? I've groveled for a week in this horrible hole of a town. I've canceled every appointment. I've sent flowers every day.”
“I never asked you to do those things. I only asked you to go away.”
When she'd first seen Evan standing in the diner, she'd been confused. She was suddenly very aware of the cameras pointed at her as she was an inch away from kissing Doug. With the moment shattered, sense had set in. She knew kissing Doug was a mi
stake. He'd just be sorry for it later and things would be awkward again, like that time he'd held her in the rain.
When her old life walked in the door there was a brief moment, the room quiet, the cameras watching, where she triumphed in the realization that she'd got what she'd wanted. She could have it all back. And then, staring at Evan in his million dollar suit, she knew she didn't want it.
“It's time to stop playing this stupid game. Come back with me. I need you.”
“I need you is different than I love you.”
He clenched his jaw, which meant he was holding back his temper.
“I made you who you are.”
“You made me who I'm not.”
“Without me, no one will care about you a year from now.”
The comment settled over Bernadette. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad.
“You need to go.”
Evan stepped closer, his strong hand clasping her wrist. His pale eyes were cold metal.
“I didn't want to do it this way. But you don't have a choice.” His face was tight with fury, but he kept his voice quiet, glancing both ways at the neighboring houses.
She tried to pull away, but he held her with little effort.
“You don't own me.”
“Bernadette, were you aware that the alleged arsonist from the diner finally regained consciousness?”
She stood still, her stomach sickening at the thought of that man's breath in her face. After Doug had won the competition, she’d told the police the man had attacked her, and that she’d hit him. There was no way she could explain what really happened.
Evan released Bernadette, because he knew he had her. She didn't know what information he had, but the look on his face told her she was already caught in his trap. She touched her aching wrist, feeling the bruise already forming.
“Did you know there was a lot of curiosity, on the part of the police, about why that man was hit on the back of the head? That's not usually a result of self-defense.”
Bernadette placed a hand on the door frame. Her legs felt weak.
“There were cameras filming while you explained to Doug that he came at you and you hit him. That doesn't match up at all with the injuries he sustained. Sounds more like someone was angry about that fire, and hit him from behind. Now that he's awake he's almost ready to give his account to the police. He's waiting on you. His account depends on whether you stay or go. If you go, he may face jail time, but it'll be worth his while.”
Bernadette stumbled back.
“Frank won't let this happen.”
“Sweetheart, that old cliché where the sheriff totes a shotgun around and does what he pleases because no one is watching no longer applies. This has all received national attention. If that young man testifies against you I'll make sure he has an excellent lawyer, courtesy of anonymous donations of course. He doesn't have any priors, has a wife and child, and is a respected farmer in his community. You, on the other hand, are known far and wide for your mental instability. My poor dog Maxwell still hasn't recovered.”
He smoothed her hair with his fingertips.
“If you come with me that man will become an over-enthusiastic fan that drinks a bit too much. He scared you, and you hit him just as he turned his head. The evidence that was filmed that day happens to be in my care right now. It might disappear. Come with me and I'll take care of you like I always have.”
She shook her head. She couldn't run every time someone threatened her. She didn't know what she wanted right now, but she wanted it to be her choice.
“So I go to jail for hitting that creep. It's not murder.”
“If you're certain you're done with your career. It can't take another hit.” He paused, cocking his head. “Bernadette, I'm glad to see you're still looking out for yourself first. You don't seem concerned that your friend's establishment would be further tarnished by your involvement in this crime. Besides the bad press, that place is obviously a hazard anyway. There was no fire extinguisher handy at the time of the fire. That young husband and father says he was threatened in that diner last month, that guns were drawn. I've heard about a woman who was considering filing a law suit based on another incident that took place on the property.”
Bernadette scowled. Of course Susan would join forces with Evan. What if she'd told him what she knew? If she hadn't, she probably would if Evan stuck around much longer. Susan would find some way to justify breaking her arrangement with Bernadette for the payout Evan could offer.
“Who knows what might come up when we take a closer look at that place,” he continued. “And of course after that television show, the whole nation will be watching.”
His lip curled. If Evan put his energy into taking down Doug, he would win.
“I've been hearing a lot about your sister, too. You've hardly mentioned her. It seems she might be in need of a special facility. There are those who feel she might be a danger to herself.”
Bernadette winced. “My sister is fine.”
“She's afraid to leave her house, and I hear she thinks she has some kind of super powers. I'm just worried about her.”
Bernadette winced. She'd done enough to Mina, forcing herself back into her life, bringing photographers and reporters into her yard and making her feel like a prisoner.
She glared at Evan, her eyes burning as she tried to keep the tears back. Evan would ruin the few friends and family she had left. She didn't have any fight left in her. She'd lost. Anyway, Doug had more or less asked her to leave. The life she had in California; glaring lights, excitement, and attention, seemed hollow and far away to her now. But it was a life. And the people she cared about could keep theirs.
She closed the door in Evan's face. She knew he'd be on the other side waiting for her when she returned.
Bernadette walked to her room in a daze. She packed her things so carelessly she'd have to sit on her suitcases to make them zip. With each item she dropped in, her chest tightened, as if her heart was inflatable and was being blown up to the breaking point. Finally there was only one item left, and she couldn't avoid it any longer.
She opened up the nightstand drawer. In California she'd kept the ring in a drawer near her bed as well. All these years she'd felt it next to her as she slept, as if it were a poison seeping through the wood, killing her a little every night.
Since her return its presence seemed to pull at her. Some mornings she woke with an arm and a leg spilling off the side of the bed, her body barely clinging to the edge. Now that the ring was so close to where it belonged, it was insisting she return it. And she'd meant to. It had just never been the right time. Or perhaps, like the first time, she couldn't bring herself to do it.
She opened the box, and the emeralds set in white gold glinted in the dull bedroom light.
She remembered when Doug had first put it on her finger, how she’d held it out to let it catch the lights from the Christmas tree. Later that night Susan Walters took her hand and admired it, then she asked to see Bernadette privately. They had a matter of business to discuss.
For a while she'd almost believed that things could turn out differently this time. But there was no changing the past. The things she'd done infected the future like a plague. Perhaps Doug had forgiven her, without even needing an explanation. And perhaps there were moments when he forgot himself, falling back into the past with her. But he couldn't really love her again.
Chapter 24
The Borrowed Body
Ranie stumbled forward. She was frustrated, like a toddler just learning to walk. It didn't help that this body was repelling her. She had to cling tight to stay inside it.
She knew she'd reach her daughter soon. She felt like one of those toys with the string attached. She was on one end of the string, the woman's home on the other, and it was pulling her in. The tension released slightly with every step, as if this body was uncomfortable out of its element; a goldfish out of its little bowl.
She knew the little bungalow when she saw it
, although it had been twenty years. That horrible man stood on the porch, leaning against the house. The moment she'd seen him going into the diner she'd known he was bad. It was something you could tell from the other side. Darkness seeped from him now, dulling the yellow porch light.
It was bad enough that her daughter had been taken from her, that she didn't know who her real mother was. She wasn't going to let that man near her.
She pulled her legs along faster, trying to reach him before he could get to her. Then her daughter opened the door. He called her Bernadette. That wasn't her name.
She pulled two suitcases out the door. The man grabbed her arm and hurried her roughly down the steps. Her girl was crying.
Ranie opened her mouth to speak, but a strangled noise came out. She'd forgotten how to speak. They couldn't hear her. They were arguing.
The man threw the suitcases in the back of the car. He flung her daughter in the front.
Ranie tried to run. She fell in a heap on the sidewalk. Her girl turned her head. She saw her. She only covered her eyes.
Ranie stood up. She finally had the power to do something for her daughter.
Someone stirred in a car that sat parked in the street.
She hurried to it and opened the door.
The man stared at her, shocked; his hair mangy, as if he'd been asleep.
“Mina?”
She opened her mouth again. “Ou—Out.”
The man slumped out of the car, his mouth hanging open.
“Y—you want to go after them?”
She jerked the keys from his hand and dropped into the small car.
Her head shook in frustration as she tried to remember what to do next. She crammed the keys into the ignition and turned hard.
The man outside remembered how to move. He shut her door, then hurried to the other side and got in.
The Stranger's Obituary Page 14