by P. G. Forte
Lucy thought of the Nick she remembered from her youth – so wild and reckless and alive – and she wondered at the changes the years had wrought. Still, he was family. And nobody was ever allowed to mess with her family.
She shot a repressive look over her shoulder at Dan, still chuckling smugly to himself. “Just go tell him I’m making pesto, okay?”
“Oh, yes Ma’am,” Dan teased, coming up behind her again.
Lucy giggled as she felt his hot breath in her ear.
“So, tell me. You really think your cooking can compete with one of your cousin’s hot dates?”
For just an instant, a picture of Nick and Scout holding hands and smiling into each other’s eyes across a candle-lit table sprang into Lucy’s head, and she shuddered. It wasn’t that she didn’t want her cousin to be happy, But omigod, Scout would eat him alive!
“Believe me,” she muttered between clenched teeth. “If my cousin had a hot date tonight, I’d know about it. I’d probably have to take out a contract on the bimbo.”
Dan nipped at her earlobe. “Well, whatever makes you happy. I know I don’t want to be the one to get you mad.” Once more, his tongue caressed her neck. “Maybe later you could show me what I have to do to stay on your good side.” And then off he went, beers in hand, to deliver her invitation.
Ruthlessly, Lucy stripped another handful of basil leaves off their stems and threw them into the blender. Thank God for basil, she thought, as she watched the blades do their work. It was good for curing headaches and gastric upsets, providing psychic protection, and warding off negative energies. Just what they’d all need tonight.
* * *
The quietness in the empty house was like an immense, cold weight pressing slowly against Scout’s nerves, pouring into her lungs everywhere at once, until she felt like screaming. She remembered how comfortable and safe she’d always felt in this house. She hadn’t expected a return to the happiness she’d once known, but did coming back here really have to be this hard?
There were rumors at the time... about some of your friends. Glenn’s words repeated themselves in her mind. No wonder Lucy was still so bitter. If the talk was really that bad, maybe Scout had gotten more revenge than she’d realized. She felt a pang of guilt, and an unusual desire to pick up the phone and call... who? Her mind ran down the list of people she could call. It was not extensive, she realized with a helpless start.
Well. Good, then. She shook herself mentally. Very good. No strings. Just the way she liked to keep things. Simple and tidy and clean.
She wandered through the house, turning on lights against the encroaching darkness. Reminding herself that she felt not a single twinge of regret for having turned down Glenn’s offer of dinner.
Of course, he’d tried to insist. Lord, she’d forgotten how annoyingly insistent Glenn could be. He’d taken Robyn’s suggestion that she could be in some kind of danger and run with it. Urging her to either stay locked in the house or to leave town altogether. Stopping just shy of suggesting he move in with her to keep her safe.
Or maybe it was just the way he said it that made it sound like that’s what he meant. One thing he’d apparently gained from being a lawyer; he’d learned to imply a lot, without actually saying anything.
But there was no argument he could use to convince her. She might not be feeling too comfortable by herself right now, but she hadn’t been in the mood to play any more games with him either.
Scout was glad Robyn had plans for the night as well. She had entirely too many unwelcome thoughts to mull over. The last thing she needed was distraction and chatter. She turned on the stereo, but although music replaced the quietness, the emptiness only seemed to increase.
After feeding the cats and the dog, she finished putting away the groceries she had bought earlier, and wandered back out into the hallway. For several minutes, she just stood there, staring at the portrait hanging on the wall. That damn painting. It was the last one she ever sat for, and she remembered it as if it were yesterday, instead of twenty-one years ago.
The sun, warm against her face and her arms. The itchy discomfort of grass beneath her bare thighs. The damp sweatiness of her skin where the weight of Lisa’s arm fell across her shoulder...
“Quit slumping, Scout. You’re falling asleep.”
“I am not!”
“No? Well, I am. Shit, it’s hot out here. How the hell do you stand this, anyway?”
“Stop fussing, Lisa. And don’t fall asleep. Your arm is heavy enough as it is.”
The clacking of the gardener’s shears, barely audible over the buzz of the lawn mower. New mown grass. That was what she smelled. The crisp, green sweetness of the shattered blades as it mingled with the warmer, spicier scent of the roses... .
“Scout.”
Chills crawled like spiders across her skin.
The mind can play such strange tricks on you when you’re tired. Scout clung desperately to the thought. Surely, the scent of roses lingering in the stagnant air had just wafted in from the garden. There could be no doubt of that. No mystery at all. And it was only in her imagination that she’d heard her name, echoing in the emptiness. Or maybe it was something on the radio.
But there was no one with her in the house.
So she’d heard no one whispering. Especially not Lisa.
“Scout!”
And she wasn’t hearing her now, either.
She briefly considered removing the painting – just taking it down and putting it away somewhere, so she wouldn’t have to look at it. But the damn thing was huge. And it had been bolted to the wall several feet above her head. Even in an earthquake, that sucker wasn’t going anywhere. Not without a ladder and a set of tools and a couple of really strong guys.
Things she could maybe think about getting hold of tomorrow. But for now... resolutely, she started up the long, curving staircase that led to the second floor. She had to check things out up there sometime. She might as well get it over with.
She peeked briefly into the first bedroom. When she had lived here, it had been used as a guestroom. And although it didn’t appear to have been redecorated very much since then, it was still reassuringly impersonal.
Good. She would take this room then. Although she doubted whether she’d sleep very soundly anywhere, it was a cinch she wouldn’t manage half as well in any of the other bedrooms.
The master bedroom was next. It was a lovely room; large, light and airy, with French doors opening onto a tiny balcony, and a view of the bay. After twenty years, there was very little to remind her of her father, but Caroline’s presence practically overwhelmed her.
Her stepmother’s desk had been moved up here at some point, too, Scout noticed. Whatever information Caroline might have had about Lisa, that’s probably where she kept it. Scout sighed. She knew she was going to have to tackle the chore sometime, but she felt her throat tighten at the thought of having to go through Caroline’s personal things. It would just have to wait, that’s all. She couldn’t face this room yet, either.
As she turned to leave, she found the dog watching her. It wagged its tail hopefully.
It was kind of nice having a dog around. She patted its head absently for a moment, then realized what she was doing. “Forget it,” she snapped, snatching her hand away again. “I’m not keeping you.”
She headed down the hallway, each step taking her closer to the two doors at the far end.
She put her hand tentatively on the knob of the door on her right. Panic seized her. She paused for a moment, and took a couple of good deep breaths before she could bring herself to turn the knob and push open the door.
She needn’t have worried.
Years of occupation by a succession of students had exorcised any presence that might otherwise have lingered here, in what used to be Lisa’s room. Gone was the pale, pearlescent pink paint that had covered the walls. The glittery gold trim, the deep, cobalt blue ceiling emblazoned with stars; they’d once given the room a faintly mys
tical quality. That quality was entirely absent now.
It was as if you’d entered a fairy tale, Scout had thought of the room, when she’d first seen it, all those years ago. As though you’d been transported to an enchanted castle, in a magical realm, and had inadvertently wandered into the princess’s bedchamber.
But the princess was long gone, and the large, jewel-encrusted papier-mâché vases that she’d kept filled with peacock feathers had all disappeared.
The low bed – in reality, just a mattress on the floor –heaped with tasseled, jewel-toned pillows and draped with a sheer veil of mosquito netting, had been replaced with a utilitarian loft-bed-and-desk combination.
The colorful silk Kashmiri carpet had been taken up, the iridescent curtains had been torn down. And the scuffed hardwood floor, pressed wood dresser and beanbag chair that defined the room now were the epitome of ordinariness. It was hard to believe that it was this same room where Scout had fought with Lisa for the last time.
“You’ve done some rotten things before, Scout, but this was the last straw,” Lisa had fumed, angrily shoving clothes into her backpack. “If you think you can just steal Glenn away from me, you better think again. ‘Cause I’ve got one helluva surprise for the two of you. You just wait and see if I don’t.”
“Lisa, I promise you. I’m not stealing anything,” Scout insisted.
“Oh, you got that right. Glenn is never going to be yours.”
Scout squirmed uncomfortably at the thought. “Well, good. I never wanted him anyway!”
“Oh, you didn’t, huh?” Lisa turned from her packing to glare at her suspiciously. “So, then what’s this all about? You just wanted to sleep with him? Is that you’re telling me, Scout? That you just turned into a slut overnight?”
Not exactly. Scout sighed. “Look, what difference does it make? You know he’s sleeping with half the county, anyway.”
“Not anymore, he’s not,” Lisa said quietly.
“Oh, really?” Scout felt a stab of pity. How could Lisa, so smart about so many other things, be so dumb when it came to Glenn? “How do you figure that, Lees? What’s changed, all of a sudden? You’ve never been able to stop him before.”
Lisa smiled. A nasty, cold, determined smile that momentarily shook Scout’s confidence. Maybe she’d underestimated her step-sister.
“Trust me,” Lisa said grimly. “This time, things are going to be different.”
“Yeah well, don’t you talk to me about trust,” Scout said, pulling nervously at the tip of one of Lisa’s peacock feathers, repeatedly shredding and smoothing the interlocking fibers. “Not after what you did to me. You and the others.”
Lisa smiled again, even more coldly than before. “Oh? So, maybe you should have thought about that before you started messing around with Glenn. ‘Cause we can do that – and worse – anytime we please. And you won’t even know about it unless we want you to.”
No! Scout felt her blood run cold. “Lisa, I’m warning you. Stay away from me.”
“And you stay away from my boyfriend,” Lisa retorted, her eyes flashing blue fire. “And get your hands off my stuff!”
Scout dropped the feather as if it had burned her. “Fine. You got it. And as far as Glenn goes, I wasn’t exactly planning a repeat performance anyway, you know.”
Lisa snorted. “Yeah? That’s not what Glenn thinks.”
“Really? Glenn thinks?”
“Oh, ha-ha. Very funny. Yeah, Glenn thinks. He thinks he’s going to break up with me so that you two can be together. That two-timing son-of-a-bitch.”
Scout groaned. Great. Just what she didn’t need. “Are you shitting me? Look, how about I tell him I’m not interested?”
“How about you don’t tell him anything? I don’t want you seeing him, Scout. And, come to think of it, I don’t want to see you, either.”
“That might be hard, don’t you think?” Scout said, hiding the hurt she felt behind a careless smile. “What with us living in the same house and all? We’re bound to run into each other now and then.”
“Yeah? Well, we’ll see about that, too. Things change.”
Scout stared in surprise. “Now what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“It means there’s gonna be some big changes around here, little sister. Just you wait and see.”
And then, grabbing up her backpack, tossing her blonde hair behind her shoulders, Lisa stormed out of the room and out of Scout’s life.
It was just so impossible to believe she was gone. Even after all these years, Scout could not believe that Lisa would not come walking back in. Any minute, now...
“And just what do you think you’re doing here?” Scout could almost hear her asking.
It was, she thought, a damn good question.
* * *
“Well, that’s everything, I think.” Marsha sank back into the lumpy, old couch in her office above the store. She released the clip at the back of her head and shook out her hair. “The van’s loaded and I’ve gone over all my lists a half dozen times, but I swear, Celeste, I still feel like I’m forgetting something. It’s gonna drive me crazy.”
“Here.” Celeste pushed a bowl of chilled edamame and a cup of lemongrass tea across the coffee table toward her. “It’s probably just low blood sugar. I’m sure you’ll feel better after you eat something. Jasmine should be back any minute with our dinner. But you know, sweetie, if you’re really worried about your memory, I could pop downstairs and get you some ginkgo. D’you want the soda or the gum? Or maybe we should set you up with a nice intravenous drip?”
“How about a nice strait jacket?” Marsha said, re-doing her hair into a loose twist. “So you think I’m losing it, too, now, huh?”
“I think we’ve both been under an unusual amount of stress lately,” Celeste answered quietly. “Do you want to tell me a little bit about that friend of yours who was here today – like why she’s got Lucy so twigged?”
“Oh, well, you know Lucy. She lives to hold grudges.” Marsha picked up at her tea and sipped for a moment in silence. Then she sighed. “Actually, that’s not fair. You know the story, right? How we got expelled from high school? But that was just the tip of the iceberg. What really set things off was that our math teacher got murdered. Strangled. They found her body on the athletic field, just a couple of hours after she’d left a message for our principal saying she wanted to meet with her to discuss some of our recent schoolwork.”
Celeste shivered. “Ooh. Marsha, how awful! But wait, you don’t mean to say that anybody thought you and Lucy were involved in her murder?”
“Well, no one ever came right out and accused us. At least, I don’t think anyone did. I had my accident only a couple of weeks later and was pretty much out of it for a good long while. But I know there were a lot of unpleasant rumors at the time, and I know that Lucy took the brunt of them. I was in the hospital, Scout was in Florida, Lisa had run away, so—”
“She ran away? Why? Not because—”
“Because she killed Ms. Burnett?” Marsha couldn’t help laughing. “No, of course not! Don’t be ridiculous. It might have been because of the cheating thing, I suppose. But oh, it could have been for a lot of different reasons. She’d just learned that Scout was sleeping with her boyfriend, for one thing. You know what teenage girls are like. And Lisa always was a bit of a drama queen, anyway.”
“Jeez.” Celeste smiled appreciatively. “Fast times at Holy High, huh?”
“Yeah, something like that.” Marsha grabbed a handful of the bright green soybeans from the bowl on the table. “But it wasn’t nearly so funny at the time. After the murder, we were all questioned by the police. Lucy’s cousin, Nick, was sent to interview us. Everything was pretty straightforward until they got to Scout. I don’t know how it happened; maybe that post-hypnotic suggestion we’d given her got triggered again, or something. But she just cracked. Told them everything. Told them stuff they hadn’t even thought about asking the rest of us. I tell you, I’d have paid big mon
ey to see the look on Sister Benedict’s face once Scout got started. But at the time, God, it was a mess.”
She broke off at the sound of footsteps pounding up the staircase. A minute later, her daughter Jasmine burst through the door, a large paper take-out bag from the local Chinese restaurant clutched in her arms. As always, the sight of her daughter made Marsha’s heart swell with pride. Jasmine had inherited Marsha’s red hair and green eyes, and her father’s slim, long-legged, athletic build and classic African features. But what had passed for handsome on the young man Marsha had known so briefly was devastatingly lovely on his daughter.
“I ran into Maya and Robyn on the way back, Mom.” Jasmine plunked herself down on the couch beside Marsha and started fishing cartons out of the bag. “They said to tell you they got everything you wanted from the nursery today. Oh, and also that Uncle Dan said he’d drive it up to the fairgrounds for you tomorrow.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Marsha said as she reached unerringly for the carton that contained her cold spinach-sesame noodles.
Jasmine stopped and stared at her. “How do you do that? The boxes all look alike. How do you always know which one is yours?”
“Really, Jasmine.” Celeste admonished with a smile. “I would have thought that by now you’d have come to terms with your mother’s abilities.”
“But it’s just so annoying, Celeste,” Jasmine whined. “And it’s not fair!”
“I know, darling, what can we do? Your mother is extremely gifted. But if you keep up with those exercises like I showed you, you should be able to access more of your own inner vision.”
Marsha sighed in annoyance. “Must you two always make such a big deal out of everything? It wasn’t anything special. This is the only thing we ordered that’s cold. The rest of the boxes all have hot food in them.”
Jasmine turned to glare at her again. “Mom, you can’t see temperature. Remember? We’ve talked about this. At least... normal people can’t.”
Oh, right. Marsha smiled sheepishly. “Sorry, darling. I forgot. Anyway, did Maya say if everything went okay at the nursery today?”