T*Witches: Don’t Think Twice

by H. B. Gilmour

  Over the next few days, Brianna took her first steps toward getting well. It meant getting help — quickly — the kind that could only come from parents.

  Brianna’s mom was shocked and so very ashamed she hadn’t seen it. She’d been so busy, working to stay independent, she had really thought her daughter was doing well. Mrs. Waxman came down hard on herself.

  Emily stepped up to the emotional plate, assuring Bree’s mom that it wasn’t at all unusual for a parent not to realize what was happening. “If your daughter wants to hide something from you” — she paused to wink at Cam and Alex — “there’s not much you can do. They know exactly how.” She quoted studies showing that even the most attentive parents don’t always notice. And that the important thing was getting Brianna help. Cam was proud of her mom. Alex was proud of her legal guardian.

  Then Dave stepped up to the practical plate. Calling in one of the doctors his firm had worked with in the past, they double-teamed Eric Waxman until he understood just how serious, how dangerous his daughter’s condition was and exacted a promise that the neglectful Hollywood mogul would shell out whatever it took for Brianna’s well-being.

  Shame, guilt, and the possibility that his child would land on the cover of People as the latest Hollywood eating disorder casualty soon had Bree’s dad securing a bed for her at a highly regarded rehab. The place was secluded, tucked away, expensive, and very private. And, after checking the stats, Dave announced that its success rate was top-notch.

  Neither he nor Brianna’s dad would divulge the clinic’s name right now — at least not until Brianna’s recovery was well under way.

  “Nothing but the best for my best girl,” Alex and Cam overheard Mr. Waxman bragging.

  “Bree’s condition must be contagious,” Cam said, disgustedly. “’Cause I just so lost my appetite.”

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  SAYING GOOD-BYE

  Saying good-bye to their friend was the hardest thing the Six Pack, as a group, ever had to do. But on a weekday afternoon at the end of March, they gathered to support her, reassure her, help her … and show her they loved her.

  They made her a card and a gift basket. Kristen put in the teddy bear she slept with, so Brianna might feel more secure. Amanda made her a power bracelet, “for health and inner strength.” Beth gave Bree a journal; Sukari a good luck stone with the word BELIEVE carved into it. Cam had inserted a Discman into the basket, and Alex had burned a CD with meaningful songs. Mostly, they gave her hugs.

  They promised, one by one, that e-mails would be flying and phone bills would mount. They’d be in touch every single day.

  Later, at Pie in the Sky, the Six Pack, minus one, sat in their usual booth and, over pizza, tried to understand. How could their closest friend have an eating disorder — and they not know it? Were they all self-absorbed? Or was Bree just that good at hiding her problem?

  Why hadn’t anyone realized the girl’s obsessive dieting had gotten out of hand, and she’d become an anorexic? No one except Kristen had figured it out, and she’d been sworn to secrecy. A secret she’d nearly choked on, so as not to “betray” a friend.

  The definition of friendship was now something they were all choking on. Wouldn’t Kris have been a better friend if she’d just told someone, an adult?

  Sukari insisted that’s what she would have done. “If it’s something that serious, where’s the decision? You do what’s best for the person, even against her will. That’s what makes a friend.”

  Beth reminded Suke that unless she’d really been in Kris’s shoes, she couldn’t really know what she would have done. Then the curly-haired girl put her arm around Kristen. “You made a choice. You did what you could. I think you’re an incredible friend.”

  The tears around the table flowed so freely that Dylan, at the next booth with his friends, jokingly sent a pail and mop over.

  Alex was relieved that Brianna was getting help, but she couldn’t stop thinking that Bree’s good fortune was their rotten luck. The notes had not been about Miranda. So, as far as finding their mother was concerned, they were back where they started.

  Or were they?

  “Are we even sure now that our mother is in an asylum?” Cam backpedaled.

  “There’s a reason Thantos wanted that picture destroyed, that he went ballistic when it was printed,” she told Cam on the way home. “He so didn’t want anyone to know where he was.”

  “And Fredo did say, ‘She went mad. She had to be put away.’” Cam shuddered, remembering their uncle’s callous words.

  “So let’s kick it up a notch,” Alex suggested. “We have, like, this massive amount of research to do. Molly McCracken said the pic was snapped in California. Boot up the search engine and type in ‘Loony Bins, CA.’ We start.”

  Cam hesitated. “But what about Molly? Our uncle’s probably the one who sent that car careening around the corner to mow down her husband. I keep feeling we should be able to help her.”

  Alex agreed, and then she realized how they could do just that.

  Thankfully, David Barnes didn’t ask too many questions. He just jumped in with two feet, becoming Mrs. McCracken’s pro bono lawyer and getting Molly the money she was owed from Starstruck, “the big score” the magazine had tried to send her husband. Interns at Dave’s law firm also helped, finding housing, child care, and even counseling for Elias’s widow.

  “You’re the best, Dad!” Cam hugged her father hard when she found out what he’d done.

  “Uh, yeah, what she said,” Alex agreed shyly. She took a pass on the hug. This time.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  SECRETS AND LIES

  Ileana returned to the amphitheater feeling changed, different, and proud of herself. She had made a choice, the sort of choice she’d never really considered before. She’d chosen the welfare of others over her own selfish concerns and was about to see truth and justice rendered once and for all.

  And she’d been given the chance to do it by her grandmother! Her own flesh and blood.

  Ileana laughed at the expression. Leila was not exactly “flesh and blood.” She was spirit, the spirit of a wise and beautiful woman who was Ileana’s own grandmother. Amazing!

  “What have I missed? What’s happened?” Ileana whispered to Karsh, after tiptoeing down the aisle and slipping back into her seat beside him.

  “I might ask you the same thing,” Karsh said, examining her glowing face, on which the hint of a smile still shone. “What’s happened to you? You look positively … transformed.”

  Yes, do tell us all!

  Lady Rhianna hadn’t spoken the words aloud but fired them silently at Ileana and Karsh like a schoolmarm hurling an eraser. She then turned to the Accused’s table — where Thantos sat glaring and Fredo, grinning — and slyly answered Ileana’s question. “Lord Thantos has produced several more witnesses, all attesting to his sterling character. Lord Karsh has presented others, of opposite opinion. We are now ready to vote.”

  Fredo stood abruptly. “Order in the court. Order in the court,” he demanded. “No one asked me anything! When do I get to tell my side of the story?”

  “Sit down,” his brother commanded. “You have no side!” And Fredo did.

  “Wait.” Ileana stepped forward. “If it pleases the court …”

  “I’m sure it doesn’t,” Rhianna responded.

  “I have another witness. Someone who knows the truth. Someone from whom the murderer could not hide.” She narrowed her startling eyes at Thantos, who stared back, his jaw set.

  Fredo started to whimper, but Thantos clapped his huge paw over his brother’s face.

  “Let her play this out. It should be very interesting,” he said.

  “Oh, it will be,” Ileana retorted.

  She bowed her head, and as Leila had instructed her, tossed a handful of mugwort and marjoram into the center of the amphitheater. She chanted, “I call on the spirit of a mother proud and unbowed, she who dwells in a world beyond. I call on the one who
knows the truth and no fear. I call the spirit of Leila DuBaer!”

  A blinding light filled the room, and then, though no windows were open, a gust of swirling wind formed, tornadolike, directly in front of the trio of the Exalted Elders. Ladies Rhianna and Fan and Lord Grivveniss were shocked into silence, along with everyone in the room. They watched in awe as the swirling took shape, silhouetted now in an unearthly glow. In seconds, the regal spirit of Leila DuBaer appeared.

  Thantos’s rage got stuck in this throat. He started. “This is a hoax. She cannot …!” For once, the mighty tracker could not finish his thought.

  Lady Rhianna was awestruck. “How did …?”

  Grivenniss finished the sentence, “… she do that?”

  Karsh was overcome with pride — and panic. He did not know the depth of Ileana’s talents and perhaps never would. He feared for her.

  “The spirits of our dead cannot rest,” Ileana declared, “… not until justice is served. Even if the spirit must reveal a heinous family secret.”

  Karsh stood and bowed his head. “Lady Leila, we welcome you.”

  “You know I can’t stay,” the spirit whispered, lifting her head to gaze at the Elders.

  Ileana charged forward. “I will be brief. Just a few moments ago you told me that your son Aron was murdered at the hand of his own brother.”

  “He was,” Leila replied sadly.

  “How do you know? Were you there?” Ileana gently asked.

  “I didn’t have to be there. I know my sons. The murderer confessed to me — he was so … proud! Of what he’d done.”

  “I ask you now, cherished spirit, is the murderer of your son Aron in this amphitheater?”

  “He is.” For a split second, Leila’s regal bearing faltered. Her light began to soften, to fade.

  Dizzy with dread and excitement, Ileana panicked. No! She couldn’t leave, not yet. She hurried on. “Can you point him out?”

  The spirit turned slowly. An outstretched arm pointed straight to the table of the Accused. Ileana held her breath.

  Leila’s steely gaze fell on Thantos. “How could you?”

  And then, slowly at first, but deliberately, like a Ouija board’s pointer, she turned, her accusing finger moved past Thantos. It stopped when it landed on … Fredo. When Leila spoke, it was clear she was using the last of her earthly energy. “You were supposed to take care of him!” she cried to Thantos. “He was incapable of taking care of himself! You made a vow. Were you so enraged at my disapproval of your bride that you exacted revenge by betraying me? By breaking your promise? How else to explain why you allowed Fredo to kill my beloved Aron?”

  The reaction to Leila’s stunning revelation was profound and protracted. There was not a soul in the Coventry Island Unity Council amphitheater who was not shocked, scandalized — even traumatized — by the truth. A truth no one had even considered. For the first time, even the trio of Exalted Elders sat speechless.

  The silence was broken by Fredo’s sons, Tsuris and Vey, who carne charging down the center of the amphitheater, faces scarlet with rage. “It’s a trick!” Tsuris yelled. “She did something, she made you all blind! My father is innocent!”

  “Tell them, Uncle Thantos,” Vey pleaded, reaching out to the mighty tracker. Thantos roughly shook the boy away. Without a word, he got up, turning to stalk out of the amphitheater.

  His move jolted Ileana out of her shock. “No! I command you to stay!” she shouted. “I don’t know what you did to her, to Leila, but you made her lie! You would revile the spirit of your own mother, anything to save your murderous skin!”

  Thantos spun toward her. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it abruptly. Staring at Ileana, he seemed to lose certainty. With a strange, almost pitiful glance at Karsh, the hulking tracker fell back into his chair and stared glumly at the trio of Exalted Elders.

  “Let our father have his say!” Tsuris demanded. “He will clear this up!”

  “He fears nothing! We fear nothing!” Vey called.

  “Quiet!” Lady Rhianna, angry, shaken, but dignified as ever, found her voice and turned back to her old friend. “Karsh, what say you?”

  Karsh’s eyes filled with tears. He’d known — a part of him, anyway — that it hadn’t been Thantos. But he never suspected it was Fredo. That the youngest son’s stupidity was more dangerous than Thantos’s power. He nodded at Rhianna. “Let him speak.”

  Fredo was overjoyed. The manic, goat-bearded warlock gloated. “Like Mama said, I’m the one, the man, the warlock! I flattened Aron with a stone. With one single heavy-duty rock. You wouldn’t believe how much damage one rock can do. I didn’t even believe it. But I had to make a choice. Aron even asked me to. He said, ‘Whose side are you on, Fredo?’ So I showed him.”

  “I don’t believe you!” Ileana shouted.

  “Why not?” Fredo asked innocently. “I didn’t mean to take Aron out of the game for good. I just wanted to show my other brother — you know, Thantos — how solid I was for him. They used to argue all the time. I mean, I thought Thantos would be ecstatic. But, oh, boy, was he ever mad at me.”

  “You’re lying,” Ileana accused. “Why are you lying for him?”

  “How can you accuse me of lying, fair Ileana? It was you who summoned up a witness. You who called on the spirit of the dead to appear here. You wanted the truth, you got it.”

  Thantos hauled himself to his feet. “Haven’t we had enough of this grim circus?” he thundered.

  Stubbornly, Ileana refused to believe it. “Of course you’d like to stop him now. Now that he’s lied to clear your name!”

  “Can I tell her?” Fredo’s glittering snake eyes turned pleadingly to his brother. “Oh, please, let me tell her.”

  “No!” Karsh called. “Lord Thantos is right. Enough is enough.”

  “But Karsh,” Ileana protested. “Something must have happened. I must have done the spell wrong. Or …” She narrowed her fierce eyes at Thantos. “He tampered with her spirit!! He’s powerful and mean enough to do it. He made her say it was Fredo!”

  Even as she shouted it, Leila’s words echoed in her ears, “Be careful what you wish for…”

  Shaking her head, to rid herself of the terrible truth she must have known, but denied, Ileana shouted, “Fredo is just saying all that to get Thantos off the hook. Obviously, Fredo’s going back to prison. By confessing to Aron’s death, he spares the evil tracker, his murdering brother, the pain and shame due him. We can’t let the monster get away with —”

  “Monster? Evil tracker?” Fredo flashed his swamp eyes at her greedily. “He is your father, Ileana.”

  “No,” she railed. “Liar! You’re crazy, Fredo!”

  “Mad as Miranda,” he agreed. “But is that any way to talk to your uncle?”

  Thantos rose and stalked from the chamber, his hands coiled into fists, his hobnail boots echoing menacingly.

  “Uncle T, yo, wait,” his nephew Vey hollered.

  “You can’t leave our father,” Tsuris raged. “Not after all he’s done for you. He only killed Aron because he knew you wanted him to. And what about us?”

  “Yeah.” Vey smirked. “We polished off that chump photographer for you, didn’t we?”

  Ileana covered her ears and stood shaking in Karsh’s arms. The old warlock held her gently as she buried her face in his warm velvet waistcoat. “It can’t be true,” she sobbed. “Karsh, dear guardian, my oldest friend, tell me that he is lying.”

  But even as she urged the faithful warlock to say otherwise, Ileana knew that Fredo had told her the truth. Lord Thantos, the greedy tracker she despised, the twins’ evil uncle against whom she’d fought to protect them since the day of their birth, was her father.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  SAYING HELLO

  Cam connected with Brianna nearly every day — whenever Alex wasn’t on-line playing nuthouse Nancy Drew, or getting Cam to unscramble some cyber-mess she’d clicked herself into.

  At first, Bree’s rep
lies, some short, others long rants, upset Cam. Brianna was sullen, angry at “being here,” at being forced to eat, gaining a “flabalanche” of weight! She wasn’t sure where “here” was, and didn’t care. Just that it was called Rolling Hills.

  Her mom, on leave from her jobs, was staying in a nearby hotel and came to see her every day. Choosing between pride and her daughter’s well-being, Mrs. Waxman finally accepted her ex-husband’s offer of support. As for the Hollywood producer, he visited, too.

  I had to get to this sick for him to pay attention to me, Bree wrote forlornly. How twisted is that?

  But, after several weeks, Bree’s e-mails steadily became more upbeat. Aside from her own therapy, she confided, the Waxmans were getting family counseling. It wasn’t as if they’d gone from dys to functional in five easy sessions, but she’d actually gotten good and mad at her father and really let loose on him about his broken promises and messed-up priorities.

  Of course, she’d broken down crying a minute later, but her shrink was totally proud of her. Brianna claimed the doc’s Saturn would soon be wearing a bumper sticker that read: MY PATIENT IS AN HONOR NUT AT ROLLING HILLS.

  Cam wished Alex was progressing as well. Her sister, the cyber-klutz, had gotten lost on a virtual tour of three facilities in San Diego. She’d printed out reams of clinic names and locations. Started receiving a ton of brochures from spas and sanitariums all over California. She compared the pictures in the flyers to the front-page photo in Starstruck, hoping to see just the right palm tree in front of just the right front entrance to make a match. No luck so far. She haunted celebrity websites and began reading People magazine to find out which asylums burnouts of the rich and famous frequented. There were hundreds of places, thousands.

  California, Alex suggested, during week three of her clinic search, should be renamed the rehab state.

  It wasn’t until Bree began ragging on the “other loonies in the bin” that Cam knew she was actually getting better. Rolling Hills, Brianna explained, was like this huge buffet of sickos. The place was filled with substance abusers, eating disorder victims, depressives, bipolars, old-fashioned nervous breakdown sufferers, and rage-aholics in search of anger management techniques.