Pure (Book 1, Pure Series)

by Mesick, Catherine

  I hurried over, and reflexively I checked to make sure the iron charm was tucked under my sweater. In my haste to get out of the school to look for Annamaria and Bryony, I had neglected to put on my coat. I didn't know exactly why I hid it, but I still harbored a half-formed suspicion that GM would not approve of the charm.

  I got into the car.

  GM looked at me disapprovingly. "You should have put on your coat while you were waiting for me. It is too cold for you to go without it."

  "Sorry," I said. "I just didn't think about it."

  I pushed my backpack off of my lap and onto the car floor and started to pull my coat on.

  "No, no," GM said. "Don't bother with that now. I will get you home quickly."

  She turned on the heater and eased the car away from the curb in preparation for her usual rapid acceleration.

  "GM, wait!" I cried.

  GM hit the brakes and turned to look at me in surprise.

  "I didn't mean to startle you," I said apologetically – I had spoken much louder than I had intended to.

  "Is something wrong?" GM asked.

  "No. GM, can we go somewhere else? Before we go home, I mean?"

  "Where?"

  I was relieved that GM didn't sound angry – she simply sounded puzzled.

  "There's a girl – Irina Neverov – she's one of the two students who disappeared. I wanted to go see her mother – to talk to her."

  GM smiled sympathetically and patted me on the hand. "Of course, Solnyshko. I remember Irina has been your friend ever since the two of you were little girls."

  I suddenly felt guilty. Irina and I had been friends back in elementary school, and I realized that GM thought I wanted to comfort Irina's mother, when I actually wanted to question her. I had to console myself with the thought that if I succeeded in my investigations, I might be able to return Irina to her parents.

  "Where does Irina's mother live?" GM asked.

  I consulted my heaven-sent piece of paper and gave GM the address. "I don't have any directions, though."

  "We'll find it, Solnyshko. Don't worry." GM pulled away from the curb gently, and then took off as she usually did.

  I had to smile. Even when she didn't know exactly where she was going, GM still drove like she was on a racecourse. She never used GPS, either, preferring to rely on what she called her 'inner map.'

  GM guided the car through traffic expertly and very soon slowed for a moment near a worn and faded sign that read 'Hunter's Glen.'

  "I believe we will find that address in this development," GM said.

  She turned into the neighborhood and after a few turns, we pulled onto the street that was listed on my note. We stopped in front of a house with green siding. I glanced up at the number on the house. We had found the right place.

  "I think this is it," GM said quietly. "Would you like me to come in with you, or would you like to go in alone?"

  "I'd like to go in alone."

  GM nodded. "I'll wait, Solnyshko. Do not hurry."

  "Thanks, GM." I got out of the car.

  I walked up the short concrete drive toward the house, pulling on my coat. I was nervous as I approached the door. I wasn't entirely sure what I was going to say to Irina's mother.

  I knocked at the door tentatively.

  There was no answer, and my nervousness increased.

  I knocked again.

  I could hear someone hurrying toward the door, and the door flew open.

  A woman in a drab skirt and blouse with frazzled hair escaping from a ponytail appeared in the doorway.

  She looked at me suspiciously. "What do you want?"

  I was about to speak when the woman darted a glance over my shoulder, and her eyes narrowed angrily.

  I turned and followed the woman's gaze. She was staring at GM's sports car, which gleamed in the fall sunlight.

  "You're another one of Irina's fancy friends aren't you?" she asked.

  "You don't understand," I stammered. "That's not my car."

  "Spare me," the woman snapped. "What do you want?"

  "I'm sorry," I said. "I don't mean to intrude. I'm hoping I can talk to you about Irina. May I come in?"

  The woman's stony expression did not change, but she stepped back to allow me to enter.

  I followed the woman into a small living room. A pile of neatly folded laundry sat on one chair, and stacks of newspapers and mail sat on a coffee table.

  The woman sank onto a floral sofa and crossed one leg over the other. She stared at me steadily.

  I stood awkwardly by the coffee table. I wasn't sure what to say exactly, so I just plunged ahead. "Mrs. Neverov—"

  "Dolores," she interjected sharply. "It's Dolores Silver, but just call me by my first name."

  I winced. Of course I had known that her last name wasn't Neverov, but I had forgotten in my nervousness. "Dolores," I said. "I know you've been over everything with the police, but is there anything you can tell me?"

  "About what?" Dolores asked impatiently.

  I shifted from one foot to the other uneasily. "Is there anything you can tell me about the way Irina disappeared?"

  Dolores shrugged. "She was at her father's house, and then she wasn't. That's all I know."

  "Isn't there anything?" I asked. "Anything at all that you've heard? Even something that seems insignificant may be important. I'm trying to help Irina and all of the others who have disappeared."

  "I know nothing about my daughter," Dolores said stiffly.

  "Dolores, please. Irina is missing."

  Dolores sat forward, suddenly animated. "Irina is not missing."

  "What do you mean, she's not missing?"

  "I mean she's not missing this time," Dolores said heatedly. "She's been missing all along. The fact that she's missing now doesn't make any difference."

  I was starting to get worried. Was Dolores Silver crazy? "I still don't know what you mean."

  "Irina went missing from my life when she went to live with him." Dolores spat the last word with venom. Her face had gone red, and a vein was standing out on her neck.

  "She chose him! She chose to live with her father! That's when she disappeared from my life."

  I felt my face begin to burn. I understood what she meant now.

  "If her father had cared about her, this never would have happened!" Dolores screamed. "And if she had cared about me, this never would have happened. She would have been at home with me where she belonged. I would have kept her safe!"

  Dolores slumped back against the sofa and buried her head in her hands. She began to cry.

  "I'm sorry," I said quietly.

  I went to the door and let myself out.

  As I walked down the drive to GM's car, my heart went out to Irina, wherever she was. Irina had been horrible to me for years, but now I realized that she had problems of her own.

  Chapter 9.

  That night I got ready for bed early. I took off the iron charm and set it on the table by my bed. I set my phone down, too, and climbed under the covers.

  I wasn't quite ready to sleep yet, but I was tired, and I needed to lie down. I threw an elbow over my eyes. The day had been draining, and I was no closer to discovering what was going on in the town.

  My phone rang, startling me. I glanced at it. It was Simon.

  I answered it. "Hey, Simon."

  "You sound tired. Did I wake you?"

  Simon's words were casual, but there was something anxious in his tone.

  "No, I wasn't sleeping," I replied. "Is everything okay? You sound like something's bothering you."

  There was a long pause before Simon answered. "Katie, I don't want you to get upset. But I think we should call off the investigation, and I mean both of us. My parents don't know anything about James's disappearance and—"

  Simon broke off.

  "And what, Simon?"

  Simon sighed heavily. "Katie, don't you ever watch the evening news?"

  "No. I was a little too worn out to watch the ne
ws. I went to see Irina's mother, and things didn't go so well."

  "Maybe that's for the best," Simon said. "I really think you should stop looking into things."

  "At the moment, I'm inclined to agree with you," I said. "But why won't you tell me what's wrong? Did something happen?"

  "Katie, they found one of the missing people."

  I felt a rush of excitement. "Simon, that's wonderful. Maybe they'll all be found now."

  "Not this way, I hope," Simon said grimly. "When they found him, he was dead."

  Cold spread through my body. "Oh, Simon. It wasn't—"

  "No, it wasn't James," Simon replied quickly.

  "Then—"

  "It was Mr. Hightower."

  "Mr. Hightower?"

  "Yeah, they found him near the Old Grove. The body was not in good condition, but they identified him by a large ruby ring he used to wear. Katie, they said most of his bones had been broken, and his face and body had been shredded. Whoever killed him was a real psycho."

  The chill in my body deepened. "He was shredded?"

  "Yes," Simon replied grimly. "Do you see now why I think it's a good idea to stop the investigation?"

  "Yes, I do see why," I said.

  "I'm glad you agree," Simon replied.

  "You must be terrified about James," I said.

  "I'm worried about James and you. I don't want to see either one of you end up like Mr. Hightower. It's best that we stay out of the police's way and let them do their job. I care about you, Katie, and I want you to be safe."

  "I want you to be safe, too," I said.

  "Are we still on for tomorrow night?" Simon asked.

  I was startled by the question. "You mean you still want to go to the movies, even though we now know what happened to Mr. Hightower? And with James still missing? Are you sure you feel up to it?"

  "Yes, like I said before, sitting at home does no good."

  "Okay," I replied. "Then I guess we're still on."

  "Goodnight, Katie."

  "Goodnight, Simon."

  I set the phone down and pulled my covers around me more tightly. Hearing about Mr. Hightower's gruesome demise had left me feeling shaken. I could see why it was a good idea to stop the investigation. I could also see why I couldn't stop now – I had to find out what was going on before anyone else was killed.

  Was Mr. Hightower's death the work of Gleb Mstislav? I had a feeling that it was. What could I do – what could anyone do against a creature like Gleb – whatever he was?

  I thought of William. Would he come if I called for him? But what if he didn't want to see me? What if he even saw me as an obstacle to his own investigations? I decided not to call for him – wondering was better than finding out for certain that he wasn't interested in seeing me.

  I switched off the light and resolved to get back to work tomorrow without Simon. I hoped no one else was torn apart during the night.

  Saturday morning, I showered and dressed quickly and hurried downstairs.

  GM was already seated in the kitchen drinking a cup of tea when I walked in.

  "Good morning, Solnyshko. Would you like me to make you some eggs? Or maybe oatmeal?"

  "No thanks, GM. I'm just going to have some yogurt and fruit."

  I got what I needed and sat down at the table across from GM. I shot her a furtive glance.

  GM would have read the paper and would know about the fact that the body of Mr. Hightower had been found. I didn't know if GM would agree to drive me around today. I knew that walking around on my own would be out of the question.

  "GM?" I tried hard to sound casual as I stirred my yogurt. "There are a couple of places I would like to go today. Would you mind driving me?"

  "Where is it that you wish to go?"

  Before I'd fallen asleep last night, I had worked out a plan. "You know how I went to see Irina's mother yesterday? I'd like to go see her father today. I'd also like to go see Mrs. Hannity. She's the neighbor of Mr. Del Gatto – he was my English teacher. He's one of the people who disappeared."

  I waited, scarcely daring to breathe.

  "What time would you like to go?" GM did not sound troubled.

  I relaxed. "We can go whenever you want. Whenever it's convenient for you."

  GM smiled. "All right. How about after lunch?"

  "That sounds great, GM. Thanks."

  "Of course, Solnyshko. We should be safe enough during the day. Terrible things only seem to happen at night."

  After breakfast, I went up to my room – there was one last thing I still needed to check on. I looked up Mrs. Hannity's address online. I had been to her neighborhood before, and I remembered that it was near the Old Grove. I hoped that I was right about that – it was an important part of my plan this afternoon. I found her address and mapped it out. Luckily, I was right. Her house was near the Old Grove.

  Then I turned to my homework, and I forced myself to concentrate, telling myself it wasn't healthy to obsess over what I was going to do that afternoon.

  When the aroma of cooking chicken wafted up to me, I shut my math book and my notebook and ran downstairs.

  GM was just setting a bowl full of salad on the table when I walked into the kitchen.

  "Smells delicious," I said.

  GM walked over and kissed me on the forehead. "I've got chicken and sweet potatoes baking. It's almost done."

  I set the table, and GM pulled the chicken and sweet potatoes out of the oven. Soon we were eating lunch.

  I was so eager to begin the day's investigation that I couldn't help eating a little too quickly.

  "Relax, Solnyshko. You will injure your digestion."

  I made an effort to slow down. I was relieved when GM finally finished her lunch, and the two of us went out to the car.

  "Where to first?" GM asked as she settled behind the wheel.

  "Let's go to see Irina's father," I said. I gave her the address.

  "Very good," GM replied.

  She backed the car down the driveway and zoomed off.

  Before long, we were pulling up to a big brick wall that surrounded a community named Sherwood Estates. We slipped through the entranceway and glided past stately homes with expansive, manicured lawns. We continued on past the Estates' country club and golf course to a set of even larger homes.

  GM soon brought the car to a stop. "This should be the place."

  I looked out at the large, imposing house before us.

  "Wow," I said.

  "Would you like me to go in with you this time?" GM asked.

  "No thanks. I'll be quick. I promise."

  I got out of the car and stood for just a moment, staring down the long paved drive at the front of the monumental house. I glanced at the equally impressive houses on either side of it. Truthfully, I wouldn't have minded if GM had come with me, but I knew I couldn't let her find out what I was up to.

  I walked up the drive to the front door and took a deep breath. Thanks to the mysterious paper, I knew Mr. Neverov was out of town, but I hoped maybe he didn't live alone, and I would be able to learn something helpful.

  I reached for the big brass knocker on the door and gave it a few short raps. The sound was much louder than I had expected, and I couldn't help wincing.

  Nothing happened, and after a moment, I knocked again.

  As before, nothing happened. I began to look around for signs that someone might be home. As I glanced around the front of the imposing house, I noticed very faint trails of black smoke. I squinted at the smoke trails. They were hard to see, but they were definitely there – writhing in the air and forming bizarre and grotesque shapes. The effect was strangely hypnotic.

  I blinked and looked away. I knocked once more.

  Just as I was starting to think I should give up, the door opened a few inches, and a woman in black-rimmed glasses with her hair in a severe bun looked out at me.

  "Hi," I said, feeling very unsure of myself. "I'm from Irina's school, and I was wondering—"

  "If t
his is about selling Girl Scout cookies," the woman said impatiently, "Mr. Neverov's household already has a source. We certainly don't need another one."

  The woman withdrew.

  I held out a hand. "Wait! This isn't about Girl Scout cookies – besides this is the wrong time of year for those anyway. It's about Irina."

  The woman leaned out again, looking more impatient than ever. "What about Irina?"

  "I-I'm worried about her. May I come in?"

  The woman sighed. "Very well."

  She let me into a highly polished hall and led me past a large, ornate room with immense sofas and fragile-looking curios.

  I paused to look.

  "Come along, now," the woman said sharply. "You are not to go in there. The items in that room are too delicate to be handled by children."

  "But I'm not—"

  "Come along," the woman said.

  I followed her dutifully.

  "I don't have the faintest idea where to put you," the woman muttered as she led me through the expensive-looking house, her heels clicking sharply on the floor. "I'll have to place you somewhere where you can't break anything."

  Eventually, the woman led me to a room and opened the door.

  The woman waved a hand. "In you go. Putting you in here isn't ideal, but it's the only place where Mr. Neverov's antiques will be safe from little fingers. This is Mr. Neverov's office. Do not touch anything."

  I walked into a mostly-bare room with a desk, three chairs, and a row of metal filing cabinets. The lack of decoration in the office was in stark contrast to the rest of the house.

  The woman turned to go, but then stopped. "I almost forgot. What's your name? There's no point in my talking to Mr. Neverov if I don't have your name."

  "It's Katie Wickliff. What's your name? In case I need it for some reason?"

  "I am Ms. Finch. I am Mr. Neverov's executive assistant." The woman started to leave again.

  "Wait!" I said. "Is Mr. Neverov back then? I'd heard he was out of town."

  "Mr. Neverov is on vacation," Ms. Finch replied stiffly.

  "He's on vacation?" I was shocked.

  Ms. Finch regarded me coldly. "Mr. Neverov is a very busy man and deserves his rest. His coming home will not bring Irina back. He is in constant contact with the police, and they keep him apprised of each new development."