Emerald Eyes

by Alicia Danielle Voss-Guillén

  Strange But True

  This was the dreaded confirmation I had come to expect only seconds before. I felt my face grow cold and drawn, and I turned to Tucker, who nodded grimly in agreement with Nicky.

  I uttered a tiny cry. “But where-what-how?” I couldn’t construct a coherent question.

  Tucker took over, his voice quiet and rational. “Vanessa Hollingsworth drowned in this lake three years ago,” he told me, resting his hand over mine (which, of course, I liked a little too much). “Almost exactly three years ago, in fact,” he continued. “I’m pretty sure it was June. She went out on her boat with some of her friends, and they dropped anchor to go diving off the deck.

  “She went down once and never surfaced. They found her later with her foot caught in an underwater tree root. Chet’s never taken a boat out since.” My thoughts flitted to Chet’s closed-up boathouse and the fact that he had never once offered to take Mom and me for a boat ride. Up to this point, I hadn’t given it much thought, but looking back, I understood. “She was only sixteen, your age,” Tucker went on, “and of course, Chet and his wife were totally devastated.”

  “His wife?” I repeated, my head starting to hurt. “So it was before the divorce?”

  “Yep,” said Nicky, unusually expressionless. “Vanessa’s drowning was actually kinda the reason for the divorce. Chet went crazy with grief, so I’ve heard, started drinking a lot, that type of thing. His wife, Rebecca, finally gave up and left him. As far as anyone around here knows, that was the last he’s ever heard from her.”

  “It was strange, though,” Tucker picked up, as I listened in rapture to this strange but true story. “Chet didn’t seem very bothered by Rebecca’s leaving. It was almost like…” He paused. “Like he was so consumed with grief over losing Vanessa that nothing else mattered to him at all.”

  “She was a daddy’s girl if I ever met one,” Nicky said, a hint of disgust in his voice. “She was a spoiled brat, and she had Chet wrapped around her little finger. He gave her everything she wanted. He had to. She’d whine like a baby till he gave in. And once she got her way, she’d hang on Chet and act like he was the greatest guy that ever lived.”

  I did a quick sum in my head. “If Vanessa were still alive,” I said slowly, “she’d be nineteen, like you guys.” I looked searchingly at Nicky and Tucker. “How well did you know her?”

  Nicky rolled his eyes. “Too well,” he replied. “She’d drag us along to Club Beach with her, trying to show off in her designer clothes and her expensive jewelry, flirted with us like mad. Tuck turned her down once when she asked him out, and I tell you, I have never seen an angrier female! And I’ve seen angry ones,” he added with a laugh.

  “I don’t date snobs,” Tucker interjected. “But Nick here gave in to her once, just because he wanted the notch in his belt or something.”

  Nicky laughed again. “It wasn’t the most pleasant date, I have to say. That girl didn’t know how to be nice. Kissing her was like kissing a rattlesnake.” He made a face. “Pure poison.”

  “You kissed her?” I asked.

  Nicky shrugged. “Hey, she was beautiful, and I was stupid. It’s lucky that’s all I did.”

  Curiosity got the better of me. “Was she beautiful? What did she look like?” I wondered, intrigued.

  Nicky glanced at Tucker, then said, “She was one of those chicks who’s all curves, with long black wavy hair, and her eyes…” he hesitated “her eyes were exactly like yours, Molly. Huge and clear and emerald green.”

  I gasped, a short, strangled sound, and clutched my towel to my face. “That’s why—that’s why,” I stammered, coming to a stunning realization, “that’s why Chet’s always staring at me! Of course that’s why! He’s even mentioned the rare color of my eyes! They remind him of Vanessa!”

  Tucker nodded grimly. “I figured they would. I mean, they reminded Nicky and me of Vanessa, the first time we saw you. I had to shut Nick up. I didn’t know how much you knew about…everything, and I figured it’s better to be safe than sorry. I know Chet doesn’t usually talk to anyone about Vanessa, but to tell the truth, I’m kinda shocked he didn’t tell you and your mom about her, your mom being his girlfriend and all.”

  Nicky twisted his mouth. “I’m shocked, and I’m not,” he said. “Chet’s a little off, if you ask me. I mean, he’s so secretive. After Vanessa drowned and Rebecca left, he changed the name of the lake from Emerald Lake to Secret Lake. It’s his right, as owner of the resort, but to me it indicates that there’s something weird and hush-hush going on.”

  I gasped and instinctively pressed my fingers to my eyes. “Emerald Lake?” I recalled what Chet had said about my rare, emerald green eyes. “Did he name it for Vanessa, for her eyes?”

  “That’s what we’re thinking,” answered Tucker, “especially since he changed the name right after she died. Vanessa was Chet’s life.”

  “That’s putting it mildly,” Nicky added. “Naturally, Chet’s got the upper hand with the management of the resort, and he has all of us who own summer houses here on an honor system. If we can be trusted not to mention Vanessa to outsiders—people who just pass through, stay at the hotel, whatever—we flash some ID and eat and play free on all of the resort facilities.”

  “That’s why I butted in on your conversation with Nicky the other night at Club Beach,” Tucker explained to me. “You and your mom didn’t know about Vanessa, and we’re not supposed to talk about her. So you can’t breathe a word to anyone, except maybe to your mom in private. I think that as Chet’s girlfriend, she has the right to know that he’s keeping things from her.”

  “This is crazy,” I breathed. “May I ask why Chet doesn’t want anyone mentioning his daughter? He must have some reason.”

  Tucker shrugged. “It’s the same reason he renamed the lake. No one knows why, really. He has a secret, though; that much is clear.”

  Nicky leaned forward conspiratorially. “I think I might have a vague idea of what it is.”

  “What?” I asked, baffled. “And how does all this have anything to do with my almost drowning?”

  Haunting

  Nicky came over and sat down beside Tucker and me. I felt Tucker’s arm slip around my shoulders, lending me support—and nothing else, I told myself for the hundredth time. I braced myself for whatever Nicky was going to tell me, but I was blown away when he opened his mouth to speak.

  “About a year ago,” he began, “Tuck and I were out on his boat at night. We heard a big splash in the water next to us, and naturally, we thought it was just a fish or something….” He paused, and my bones grew chill. “But when we glanced over to see what it was,” he continued, his voice quiet and strangely serious, “we saw her, Molly, swimming through the water like a mermaid. She threw back her head and sneered and laughed at us, and then she disappeared, completely vanished. I’m not putting you on, Molly; Tuck saw her, too. He can give you all the details.” Nicky’s tone was low and ominous. “Vanessa Hollingsworth,” he proclaimed, “haunts Secret Lake.”

  I looked up at Tucker, horrified. He pulled me even closer to him. “It’s true, Molly,” he whispered. “I was there. She swims these waters day and night; we hear her sometimes during the day—strange little noises that a fish could never make—but we’ve only seen her that once. We might be the only ones who ever have, but that’s reason enough why we don’t go boating after sunset anymore.”

  “And you’re saying,” I asked, my voice high and trembling, “that those were Vanessa’s fingers and hands that I felt—icy cold like death? You’re saying that it was Vanessa who tried to drown me—twice?”

  “We’re saying,” answered Nicky, “that it sure seems to be that way.”

  I let out another awful cry, and sounded like a strangled cat. “But why?” I protested. “Why would Vanessa Hollingsworth want me dead?”

  “That,” said Nicky grimly, “I can’t answer.”

  After that, none of us said much for quite a while. Nicky hauled the boat ancho
r aboard, and Tucker started the engine and took us back to his family’s dock at full speed. I didn’t enjoy the ride, and I don’t think the guys did, either. All three of us had had our fill of Secret Lake for the day.

  Back at the Andersons’ summer house, we tried our best to relax and chill out. Tucker took our untouched cooler of snack food and pop off the speedboat, and we all lingered for a couple of hours at the Andersons’ swimming pool, munching on cold hamburgers and chips and washing them down with Cokes. Tucker’s mom (who was very friendly) came out on the pool deck at one point for the express purpose of meeting me! When she shook my hand, she mentioned that Tucker had told her a lot about me.

  I felt my cheeks turn rosy, but I fought against a surfacing rush of excitement and returned her greeting graciously.

  By the time Tucker drove me home about five o’clock, I was feeling slightly less uptight about what I had learned that day concerning Vanessa Hollingsworth. But, as soon as we had covered the short distance and were within view of Chet’s house, I felt my stomach beginning to turn somersaults.

  “Tucker,” I confessed, as he rang in at the gate, “I’m really scared.”

  He, of course, knew exactly what I was referring to. “Molly…” he trailed, driving through the entrance and along the sweep of Chet’s circle drive to the front porch. “We’ll work this out, okay? Everything’s gonna be all right, so don’t worry.” He laid a comforting hand on my forearm.

  I had to smile at his gesture and the confidence in his voice. “Thanks, Tucker,” I said softly, simultaneously wondering how Tucker planned to “work this out” and how in the world I was going to keep myself from worrying about the ghost of Secret Lake. “Thank you for today, too,” I added, turning to get out of his BMW. “Your speedboat is amazing, and it was great hanging out at your house, too, and meeting your mom. She’s really nice.”

  Tucker smiled sweetly. “So are you,” he replied, so quietly that I thought I must have imagined it. But then he said, “You’re a great girl, Molly. I’m really glad I met you,” and I realized that I hadn’t imagined it, after all.

  We’re just friends, I told myself firmly. Tucker is three whole years older than I am! “I’m glad I met you, too, Tucker,” I returned, very honestly, as he walked me up the porch steps to the front door.

  He looked down at me, studying me, and for just a moment in time an expression, strange and yet familiar, glazed his blue eyes. Before I could interpret it, though, it was gone, and once again, I blamed my imagination.

  “Have a great evening, Molly,” he told me. “I’ll call you soon.” My heart leaped at that. I was starting to be annoyed with my heart! Then, whispering, Tucker added, “Don’t you dare go near Secret Lake until we get to the bottom of all this, you hear? And don’t you let Vanessa Hollingsworth spoil your vacation, either.”

  “I won’t,” I answered simply, and rang the doorbell for Gabbie.

  Obsession

  It was strange and creepy, walking upstairs and entering my suite, knowing that it once had been Vanessa Hollingsworth’s bedroom. That explained the teen-esque décor, the tiny white lights along the ceiling. Had she, I wondered, chosen the emerald and mint color scheme? Or had it been Chet, who’d named Emerald Lake, who was obsessed with her eye color, which was also mine? I shivered at the thoughts running through my head, and tried desperately to clear them, but to no avail.

  I stripped from my shorts and sun top and swimsuit and stepped into the warm, soothing shower. I found myself imagining Vanessa, standing beneath the strong, massaging spray as I was, working expensive shampoo through her long black wavy hair, as she had doubtless done hundreds of times.

  From then on, Vanessa became a fearsome obsession. No matter what I did or where I went, it was as though she were following me, watching me, silent and invisible. She was out to get me, I knew she was! But why? I inwardly cried. What did she want with me? What would she have gained if she’d succeeded in drowning me?

  Around seven that evening, Chet, as usual, took Mom and me out to eat. This restaurant offered outdoor seating on a deck overlooking Secret Lake. When Chet asked for a table there, I almost died on the spot. No way did I want to be so close to that horrible lake, to look at it while I ate my meal!

  “Please,” I begged, attempting to contain the urgency I felt, “let’s sit inside the restaurant!”

  “But, Molly,” cried Mom, “it’s a gorgeous evening! You don’t really want to stay cooped up inside, do you? We’ll have a wonderful view of the sunset this way!”

  “I don’t care!” I protested, groping for excuses. “It’s—it’s too hot outside!”

  Chet looked hard into my eyes, and in that awful moment I could see that he wasn’t buying my reasoning. Even worse, I could detect in him suspicion, and—what else was that I saw?—an awful sort of understanding. He knew. He knew. He could read my fears! I shook my head to clear it. Calm down, I told myself. You’re overreacting. But I wasn’t sure that I was.

  “Come now, Miss Molly,” Chet said, with a superficial-sounding suavity. “It isn’t hot in the least.”

  We sat on the deck. I chose the chair at our table that was farthest from the lake. Not wanting to look at that awful, lapping water, I bent my head low and studied the list of fancy-sounding entrees inside my menu.

  After we had ordered, Mom asked me about my day on the lake with Tucker and Nicky.

  Naturally, I talked it up, carefully omitting my near-drowning experience, and the conversation I had had with the guys, that fateful conversation through which I had learned about Vanessa Hollingsworth.

  I did my best not to look Chet’s way as I spoke. I worried that he might be able to detect something in me, in my voice…or my emerald eyes. Also, it was just plain strange and somehow terrifying to look at that man with the newly acquired knowledge that he was a father. The father of a dead girl whom he was keeping all to himself.

  Nevertheless, Chet was listening intently to what I was telling Mom. “I am so pleased, Miss Molly,” he remarked once I had finished, “that you are taking such a liking to Secret Lake. I encourage you to enjoy it to the fullest.”

  Involuntarily, I shivered at his words.

  At the Soda Fountain

  Two days later, as I sat on the top deck back of Chet’s house, working on the summer top I was making—a sleeveless, peasant-style eyelet—Kathryn called. She had gotten my letter and demanded all the details of my new friendship with Tucker and Nicky, and everything else that had been going on.

  I filled her in (again, being careful to avoid any mention of Vanessa Hollingsworth or my frightening experiences in the lake, though I did express to her somewhat of a dislike for Chet), and we chatted it up for a long time. It was great hearing from her, and I was filled with a sharp pang of homesickness. I told Kathryn I couldn’t wait to get back to Pinewood, which was very true—for more reasons than I let on. The only thing I would really miss about The Resort at Secret Lake was being able to spend time with Tucker and Nicky.

  “But what if your mom and Chet decide to get married?” Kathryn asked worriedly. “Then you’ll have to move up there and live at Secret Lake, won’t you?”

  Her words shocked me into momentary silence. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before! I had acknowledged to myself the possibility of Mom and Chet’s eventual marriage…but things kept getting worse and worse! How could I bear to live at Secret Lake, haunted by the ghost of Vanessa, who, I was convinced, was intent on doing away with me? How could I stand living with strange and sinister Chet, having him as my stepfather, for that matter? And what about Nanny and Gramps and Pinewood High and all of my friends back home?

  “Let’s just hope that doesn’t happen,” I told Kathryn, my voice small and troubled.

  I had been wondering, ever since the revealing conversation on Tucker’s speedboat, just how I was going to break it to Mom about Vanessa. Tucker was right; as Chet’s girlfriend, Mom had the right to know about his daughter who’d died. But it w
asn’t easy finding the opportunity to talk to her. She was constantly busy with her long-distance work for the marketing firm, or else spending every spare moment hanging all over Chet.

  Finally, though, the day after I had chatted with Kathryn, Chet announced that he had to spend the afternoon at the resort management offices. Mom suggested, as she and I hadn’t had much mother-daughter time in a while, that we drive into downtown Indian Falls and get ice cream at the old-fashioned soda fountain there.

  I agreed, and sat nervous and quiet in the car as Mom navigated the hilly roads. She had asked if I wanted to drive, having recently gotten my license, but I’d declined; I had too much on my mind.

  At the soda fountain, we settled down at a booth in a private little corner of the dining area and ordered heaping hot fudge sundaes with mounds of whipped cream and extra maraschino cherries on top. After our waitress had brought them, along with two tall glasses of iced water and a fistful of paper napkins, I opened my mouth nervously.

  “Mom,” I began, “there’s something you need to know, and there’s no easy way to tell you this…” I let my voice trail off.

  Immediately, Mom looked alarmed. “Molly,” she asked, her brow creasing with worry, “are you all right?”

  I wasn’t all right; Vanessa Hollingsworth wanted me dead. I wasn’t stupid enough to venture into Secret Lake again, but I also wasn’t about to tell Mom that part of the story. “Yes, Mom,” I lied. “I’m fine. But the thing is…Nicky and Tucker and I were talking the other day…” I trailed again, mashing my whipped cream with the back of my long-handled spoon, pushing it down, down, down, until it smeared with the rest of my sundae.

  “And?” Mom prodded anxiously. “What happened, Molly?”

  “They told me,” I choked, glancing furtively about, “that Chet had a daughter.” My words were spilling fast now, my tongue tripping as I spoke. “Her name was Vanessa, she was a daddy’s girl and Chet spoiled her like anything, but then she drowned in the lake after a diving accident three years ago. Chet’s ex-wife Rebecca left him because he went totally crazy with grief, and now he doesn’t want anyone who knew Vanessa to even mention her, and he doesn’t want anyone else, including you and me, to find out that she ever existed. Nicky and Tucker weren’t really supposed to have told me this; they and everyone else who owns a summer house at the resort are on a sort of honor system. If they don’t ever talk about Vanessa, they get to use the resort facilities for free!” There. I had said it.