Lines in the Sand (Crossing The Lines #0.5)

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Lines in the Sand (Crossing The Lines #0.5) Page 2

by Sc Montgomery


  Without another word, we ran out the door, letting it bang shut behind us with a sudden gust of briny air.

  We made it as far as the edge of Gus’ walkway before we stopped to suck in great gasps of air.

  “Holy . . . do you think . . . ?” Jonah couldn’t complete the thought.

  “I have no idea.” I couldn’t comprehend the notion that we may have a witch’s bone. A cursed witch’s bone.

  “But . . .” I could hear the panic rising in Jonah’s voice. “You heard Gus. Do you think we need a preacher or a voodoo priestess or something?” He ran a hand down his face. “Holy crap. Do you think we’re cursed? Are we gonna die?”

  I wanted to yell at him to calm the hell down, but my mind was screaming the same things at me. Were we going to die? Before I had the chance to even talk to Melissa Summers . . . ?

  “What are you two asswipes doing?”

  Simultaneously, we froze at Noah’s gritty, evil-laced voice. Jonah’s older brother had just gotten his license, so he thought he was hot shit, and he lorded his superior size and strength over us even more than he usually did. Which was constantly.

  Jonah turned and faced his brother. “Nothing. Go home, Noah.”

  Noah took a menacing step in our direction. “Make me.”

  Behind him, the door to the store opened and the old lady exited with her milk. Something in her eyes told me she thought we were nothing more than punks.

  My eyes flicked to the beach where Melissa and her friends were playing in the waves. God, she was hot. I wished we were over there and none of this dead body crud had ever happened. What a difference a day makes.

  I turned back to Noah, who was eying us with contempt. “That’s what I thought. Neither of you pussies has the stones to make me do a thing.” He huffed a snide laugh.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Jonah’s face pinking as his eyes bunched. I glanced down to his tightening fists. Ah, hell. I’d only seen him like this once, last year when he blew a gasket over something I’d said about his parents. It wasn’t pretty.

  I stepped back a fraction, knowing what was about to happen.

  And did it ever. Just not like I’d imagined.

  Jonah crumpled to the ground in a heap when Noah cold-cocked him. He stood glaring down at my friend, his face a cold mask of contempt as he spit on Jonah’s cheek. “It’s time for you to man up, little boy. Man up or shut up.”

  As Noah pivoted and strode away like they’d done nothing more than discuss the weather, I realized that we probably had in fact been cursed.

  The Menace

  I held out my hand to help Jonah up. He brushed me away and dabbed the blood from his nose. Noah was such a douchebag. I couldn’t wait until I was big enough to beat his ass for all the times he’d tormented us.

  I crouched down, not looking directly into my friend’s eyes, instead studying the litter in the gutter as a gust of ocean air blew a Hershey’s wrapper up, swirled it in a 360, then carried it away like a bird in flight.

  Beside me, Jonah sniffed, but I didn’t glance over to see if he was crying. Surely he hadn’t let his brother make him cry in public. But then again, I’d never seen Noah go off on him like that before.

  I opened my mouth to say we could concoct a cool revenge scheme—Ex-lax pills in a batch of brownies or something—when the old woman from the store slammed her car door and started our way.

  Oh, crap.

  I scrambled to my feet. “Come on, dude. Let’s go.” Maybe it was her black shawl thing, or her gray hair, or Gus’ story, but my mind was on witch hyper-drive and her beady eyes were freakin’ me the heck out.

  Jonah glanced up. He must’ve seen her too, because he sprung to his feet and stumbled back into the storefront.

  We spun for the road without another word.

  “Boys?” Her voice was startlingly soft, but still commanding.

  We had no choice but to stop and turn. My mom had raised me to respect my elders. Even creepy, witch-like ones.

  “Ma’am?” Jonah slapped on his perfectly innocent eyes.

  I shivered when I realized the parking lot was empty except for the three of us.

  She adjusted her shawl. “You were asking Gus about a woman? Lettie?”

  I swallowed, my nervousness battling my sudden curiosity. I nodded and stepped in her direction. “Yes, ma’am. Did you know her?”

  “Dude!” Jonah hissed under his breath, obviously upset I was consorting with a potential witch.

  She glanced at Jonah’s face and pulled a Kleenex from her purse. “Your lip is bleeding, young man.”

  I could feel his hesitation. She obviously did, too, because she made no move to come closer. She just stood there, the tissue outstretched in her hand. Finally, she sat on the bench a few feet from us. “I just thought you might want to know what I remembered about the old woman Gus told you about. I didn’t come over here to bother you.”

  I nudged Jonah with my elbow. “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.” I sat next to her and Jonah reluctantly sat on the edge furthest away.

  She reached across me and handed him the Kleenex.

  “Thanks,” he said and held it to his lip.

  “So why’d you let that boy do that to you, anyway?” she asked.

  Jonah’s gaze stayed glued to his lap. “He’s my older brother.”

  “Ah,” she said as she settled back into the bench, but she didn’t say more.

  “So,” I said, trying to get things back on track. “Lettie? Was she really a . . . a witch?” I choked out the last word.

  The woman huffed out a sarcastic half-laugh. “The people of this town weave some pretty fantastic tales.” She looked me in the eye. “What’s your name, young man?”

  “Reed, ma’am.”

  “Well, Reed, I know exactly who Gus was talking about—and she was no witch. She was just a harmless, old, misunderstood woman. Her name wasn’t even Lettie. It was Mildred Spencer. And I’ll never forget her because I nearly killed her dog.”

  “Her dog?” Jonah asked, caught up in her story and practically leaning on me. I shoved him back.

  “Yes, her dog. Now, that thing was a mean, flea-bitten mongrel. An absolute menace to society. It constantly got into everyone’s trash, growled and snapped at everyone but children, bothered people on the beach. It was horridly filthy. Why she kept it, I have no idea. I’m pretty certain she was a bit touched in the head.” She made small circling motions at her temple to indicate the other woman must’ve been a Froot Loop.

  “So you killed her dog because it was mean?” I think my jaw dropped. This old lady was a dog murderer?

  She laughed. “I said I nearly killed her dog. And I think it would’ve done society a favor if I had. But, it was an accident. It darted out in front of my car and I only grazed it. But she absolutely went crazy like I’d done it on purpose.”

  “Wow,” Jonah said.

  She looked over. “Your lip’s not bleeding anymore.”

  “Thanks.” He dropped the hand from his lip and crumpled up the tissue in his fist. “What happened to the dog?”

  “I don’t know. She rushed it to Dr. Thomlin, then they both disappeared shortly after that. He may know more. But, all I can tell you is this town was happy to see them go.”

  “So,” I started, all of this getting me thinking, “if the old woman with the dog wasn’t Lettie, then who was?”

  She shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  Jonah and I exchanged a look. As relieved as I was that it looked like we may not be cursed by a witch, we sure were getting nowhere fast.

  The Hero

  After lunch, Jonah and I sat on my back patio, silently contemplating everything we’d heard that morning. Just behind our backs, only a measly wall separated us from the bone of a potential witch, or at least a mean old woman.

  Either one was creepy.

  Mom poked her head out the back door. “Hey, boys.” She smiled her special smile that she reserved only for Jonah. “Hi, sweetie. Yo
u stayin’ for dinner?”

  Jonah glanced up and she caught her first good look at his face.

  “Oh, my God! What happened to you?” She rushed over and tugged his chin up. “Who did this?” Her brows turned down and she shot me a quick look.

  “Noah,” he mumbled.

  “Your brother?” She sounded shocked. Why, I don’t know. She knew what a prick he was.

  He nodded.

  “Does it hurt?” She shook her head. “Of course it does. Stupid question. Let me get you something. Then you call your parents and tell them you’re staying the night. You’re not going home to that. If they have a problem, you let me talk to them.” She stomped to the back door. “Did you tell them about this?”

  Jonah looked down at his tennis shoes and I felt sorry for him. “No, ma’am.”

  We’d been through this with my mom and his parents in a dozen different situations probably a hundred times. They forgot where he was, his dad drank too much and humiliated him, his weird mom left him and his siblings to be cared for by his shithead of a brother . . . and on and on. It turned out the same way every time, but my mom never let Jonah be embarrassed about it. And he loved her for it. I couldn’t blame him.

  I’m sure it all had something to do with her childhood, but she never really talked about it. I never saw my grandparents, and when I asked about it, she would only say that they were “negligent” and that she was determined to raise me and my sister differently. Sometimes I wondered if she was raising Jonah, too.

  “Sorry, man,” I said when my mom was gone.

  “It’s all right,” Jonah said. “She’s cool.”

  I nodded and kicked at the wooden deck plank under my sneaker. “Wanna go to the beach?” We still had a few hours of daylight.

  “Nah.”

  “Video games?”

  “Nah.”

  “So, what do you wanna do, then?”

  He glanced up at me, squinting against the summer sun. A big, gray bird zipped by behind him to my mom’s feeder. He shrugged. “I wanna find out who Lettie is.”

  My stomach knotted. “How?”

  “Why don’t we go ask the vet, Dr. Thomlin, like the old lady at the store said? Maybe he’ll remember something about the woman whose dog got ran over.”

  I sucked in a breath. What did we have to lose? “Okay.”

  Jonah nodded. “Just let me go call my mom real quick and let her know I’m staying over.”

  “I’ll meet you out front after I tell Mom we’re heading into town. I’ll tell her we’re going to mess around at the beach.”

  Jonah grinned. “Cool.”

  Dr. Thomlin’s office smelled like wet dog and antiseptic. Pictures of all different dog and cat breeds lined the walls, as well as pamphlets about animal health and all natural dog food.

  We waited several minutes while the middle-aged, frumpy receptionist eyed us—probably because we came with no pets—until Dr. Thomlin was available.

  Finally, the tall, reed-thin man with wire-rimmed glasses and his pants hiked up a little too high for fashion, stepped into the lobby. “Boys? I’m the vet. What can I do for you?”

  We jumped up from the squeaky vinyl seats and I wiped my hands on my jeans, suddenly nervous, though I wasn’t sure why. He was our third person to ask about the mysterious Lettie.

  Jonah jumped right in. “Sir, we’ve been looking for a woman who disappeared from town several years ago. We’ve been told you might remember her because she brought her dog to you when it was run over.”

  The vet tilted his head, obviously puzzled. “Well, uh, wow . . . can’t say as I know about any women who’ve gone missing around here.” He scratched his stubbled chin. “When did you say this was?”

  I swallowed. “It would’ve been about forty years ago, sir.”

  His eyes widened, obviously taken aback. “Forty years?”

  “Yes.”

  “Now, why are you looking for someone who disappeared long before you were born?”

  We both shrugged and kept our mouths shut.

  He squinted his eyes and started to back away as if suspicious. “It’s a family thing,” I spouted off the first thing that came to mind.

  “Ah.” He slicked a hand across his balding head. “And why did you come to me again?”

  I shuffled on my feet and I could sense Jonah’s growing anxiety. “We were told you were one of the last people to see them before they disappeared from town when she brought her dog in after it was run over. We were hoping you’d know what happened to them.”

  He nodded and pinched his chin as if in deep thought. “Well, boys, I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I see hundreds of dogs each year, and I’m nearing retirement age. Heck, I rightly passed that age a while back, but I just can’t give up the work.” He gave a rueful smile. “And unfortunately, I don’t think I can help you find any missing women.”

  I felt Jonah nearly crumple in disappointment next to me.

  “Well, thanks anyway,” I said and turned to go.

  “What if I showed you this?” Jonah said and pulled the bone from his pocket. He must’ve snuck in and gotten it from my closet when he called his mom.

  “Dude! What are you doing?” I practically screamed. We were so busted now!

  Jonah ignored me and moved forward, obvious desperation pressing him on as he shoved the bone into the vet’s hands. “Please,” he said, “just look at this and see if you can help us.”

  Oh, God. We were so going to juvie.

  Dr. Thomlin examined the bone, pulling up his glasses to look at it with his naked eyes. “Come with me, boys.” He didn’t wait before he spun on his heel and headed for one of his back rooms.

  We rushed to follow and ended up in a room with two large metal sinks, a huge metal operating table, lots of canisters, medicine bottles, and a microscope. He pulled out a magnifying glass and gave the bone a thorough once over.

  “Where’d you get this?” he asked, setting the bone down.

  “Wait,” I said, “are we in trouble?”

  He actually looked taken aback. “Why would you be in trouble?”

  I pointed at the bone. “Uh, because we have that.”

  “We didn’t hurt no one, I swear,” Jonah piped up, shuffling from foot to foot.

  Dr. Thomlin smiled. “Well, I hope not. And, no, you’re not in trouble, because as far as I know, it’s not illegal to have a dog bone.”

  “A dog bone?” I echoed.

  “Yes,” he said. “Now, where did you get this?” he asked again.

  “The beach,” Jonah answered. “Along with these.” He carefully pulled out the white fabric and leather strip and placed them on the exam table next to the bone.

  Dr. Thomlin studied them for several heartbeats, then reached out with a trembling fingertip and touched the leather. “Lettie.”

  “You knew her?” I asked, my heart pounding a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

  He glanced up and I was shocked to see tears filling his eyes. “Yes. Oh, yes.” He glanced down as if he still couldn’t believe it. “Boys, you asked me about a woman. I have no idea about that. But have you ever heard about the dog who saved the baby?”

  “No,” we said in unison.

  He smiled. “Then we have a lot to talk about, don’t we? Because there’s a story you need to hear.” He picked up the weathered bone. “Yup. Miss Lettie, she was a hero.”

  “A hero?” Jonah asked once we were settled into Dr. Thomlin’s office with cold Cokes.

  “May I?” he asked, indicating the leather strap.

  “Sure.” Jonah handed it back to him.

  He held it lovingly as he began his story. “Well, Lettie was a sad case. She was a stray, maybe a German Shepherd mix, but it was hard to tell. The people around here didn’t want anything to do with her because of how she looked—I’m pretty sure she had the mange, but she wouldn’t let me get close enough to take a good look at her, and Animal Control didn’t have any better luck. She was a quick one, she was
.”

  “She was sick?” Jonah asked between sips of his drink.

  “Best as I could tell. She was skinny, malnourished, and like I said, her fur was pretty mangled and had seen better days. She wasn’t the friendliest girl, but who could blame her? Life had been rough on her. The only person who took pity on her was old Mildred Spencer, who left her scraps and a bowl of water every day. She’s the one who brought her in when she was hit by a car, and that’s how I first met her. I named her Lettie after my grandmother. Something in her sweet eyes haunted me and it seemed to fit.

  “Anyway, Miss Lettie wasn’t going to stay in this clinic and convalesce, no, sir. She escaped outta here as fast as she could and hightailed it to the beach. I figured out pretty darn quick that was where she was happiest. She loved to roam the dunes and chase the gulls and play in the waves. When she wasn’t misbehaving with the tourists, that is.” He grinned and gave a half laugh at the memory.

  “So, why didn’t you just adopt her?” I wondered.

  “I would’ve, but she wouldn’t adopt me.” He winked. “There was no taming Lettie. She was not about to stay inside. She didn’t trust anybody, but I was working on it, feeding her, talking sweet to her. I was trying. But she just didn’t seem to like grown people. Now, children, that was a whole different matter. She loved children.”

  Jonah leaned forward, a smile growing. I knew he’d always wanted a dog, but his parents wouldn’t allow it. “So what happened?”

  The doctor’s eyes clouded. “Well, one day, a family was at the beach just as a far off storm was churning up the waters. The parents weren’t paying the children any mind and the littlest girl toddled off into the water and the undertow pulled her under.” He sucked in a breath, as if the memory was fresh and painful. “Obviously, Lettie saw something was wrong and went diving into the water. She fought those waves with everything she had and pulled that baby right out.” He looked down as tears once again pooled in his eyes.

  I swallowed the lump crowding my throat. I was afraid to ask, though I thought I maybe knew the answer. “Was the baby okay?”

  He looked up and nodded. “Yes. She was fine. The sad thing was, her parents barely even acknowledged their mistake or what Lettie had done.”

 

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