Fatal Secrets

by Richie Tankersley Cusick

  “What?”

  She frowned, not realizing she’d spoken aloud or that Charles had heard. “Nothing.”

  “You said she was talking about something …” Charles spoke carefully. “Don’t shut me out, Ryan. I care about her, too.”

  “I can’t.” Ryan turned again and started for the hall. “I can’t talk about her. Maybe someday. But not now.”

  She jumped as Charles grabbed her elbow. She hadn’t even heard him get up or cross the room.

  “When you do feel like it,” he said, “talk to me, Ryan.”

  She stared into his face, saw his half smile, winced as his fingers tightened on her arm.

  “I’m here for you,” Charles whispered. “It would mean so much to me.”

  Chapter 7

  So,” Mrs. McCauIey said. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

  Ryan sat up, blinking against the light, and saw her mother standing rigidly beside the bed. A quick glance at the clock told her she’d only been napping an hour, but her head felt like it had been in a coma for weeks.

  “I fell in the garage,” she mumbled.

  “And hit your head. Charles told me.” Mrs. McCauley sighed.

  Then why bother to ask? “I’m okay now,” Ryan added.

  “I’d hardly call hallucinating okay.” Mrs. McCauley bowed her head, her fingers plucking at the hem of her skirt. “Actually, I’m glad we’re talking. There’s something I think you should know about.”

  “What?”

  “I had a talk with Mrs. Corbett this afternoon—”

  “The school counselor? Why?”

  “Don’t get upset, Ryan, everything is all right. She called and asked if I had a minute, so I went by.” Mrs. McCauley’s fingers twisted more tightly, but Ryan couldn’t see her expression. “She’s … disturbed about you.”

  She’s disturbed … that’s really funny … I’m losing my mind, and she’s disturbed … “What’d she say?” Ryan was apprehensive.

  “It’s about school,” Mrs. McCauley said slowly. “Your grades … how you’re so distracted … depressed …” Her voice trailed away. “I told her it hasn’t been easy for any of us. That you have all this … this”—she made a frustrated gesture—“guilt. And of course she understands, but she thinks maybe it would help—”

  “Guilt?” Ryan echoed as her mother glanced at her. “And what do you say, Mom, about this guilt of mine?”

  “Mrs. Corbett says it’s normal, your having these lapses in class, perfectly normal, after what happened to Marissa—”

  “I didn’t let her drown,” Ryan whispered, and she hated her mother in that split second for tearing her eyes away, for not looking at her, for letting seconds go by before she answered.

  “Of course you didn’t, Ryan, for God’s sake, nobody thinks—”

  Mrs. McCauley jumped as there was a knock on the door and Steve peered in.

  “Phoebe’s here. She says you’re supposed to go caroling.”

  “I don’t want to go.” Ryan threw back the covers and moved past both of them into the hall.

  “You’re going!” Phoebe’s voice carried up from downstairs. “I’m not going if you don’t go!”

  “Then stay home!” Ryan yelled down.

  “You can’t do this to me! I told you we’re all going to Michael Kilmer’s afterward.” Phoebe bounded up the stairs and confronted Ryan with her most desperate look. “You’ve got to go! My whole future depends on it!”

  “Oh, go on, Ryan.” Steve grinned. “I’m driving your mom over to Morrisville to see her friends, anyway. And you wouldn’t want Phoebe’s tragic future on your conscience.…” His voice trailed off as his grin faded. Carefully he reached out and touched Ryan’s head, giving a long, low whistle. “Wow … is this where you hit yourself?”

  “Yes,” Ryan grumbled. “When I fell.”

  “Well, you must have fallen awful hard.” Steve looked concerned. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone hit—”

  “Well, hello!” interrupted a cheery voice. “Am I missing something exciting?”

  Grouped at the head of the stairs, they all turned as Ryan’s bedroom door opened and Charles peered out in surprise. Ryan saw the gleam in Phoebe’s eyes and gave an inward groan.

  “Maybe.” Phoebe dimpled. “You must be Charles.”

  “Ah, so you’ve heard of me.” He cast Ryan an amused look. “And you’re undoubtedly the one and only Phoebe I’ve heard so much about.”

  Great, Mom, what else have you told him about our lives? Ryan closed her eyes. No, Phoebe, don’t—

  “We’re going caroling. Want to come?”

  “He’d be bored,” Ryan said.

  “I don’t think he would.” Mrs. McCauley smiled. “I think it’s a fine idea. Go ahead, Charles, it’ll be fun.”

  “Michael’s not expecting another guest,” Ryan broke in.

  “Oh, he won’t care!” Phoebe’s dimples deepened as Charles reached out to shake her hand. “Lots of kids are coming. Dad even loaned me the van. Please come. You can be Ryan’s date!”

  “No,” Ryan said.

  “Well … I was going to ask Ryan to show me around town tonight, but … sure. I’d love to.” Charles smiled, casting Ryan a sly glance. “Come on, Ryan, we’re practically old friends. Don’t be shy.”

  “This isn’t a date thing,” Ryan said quickly and saw Steve throw her a sympathetic look. “It’s just a bunch of kids getting together. No dates.”

  “Don’t wait up for Ryan, Mrs. McCauley! She can spend the night at my house!” Phoebe’s hand was still locked in Charles’s, and she began to pull him downstairs. “Oh, I’m so glad you said yes!”

  “Me, too,” Charles said smoothly. “I haven’t been caroling since I was a kid. I probably won’t even remember the songs.”

  “We’ll teach you.” Phoebe nodded eagerly. “Won’t we, Ryan?”

  “You can,” Ryan tossed back. “You’re so good at stuff like that.”

  “Okay. I don’t mind a bit!”

  As the threesome bundled up and trooped outside, Ryan cast a miserable look back at the porch. Mom looked happy, but Steve had an uneasy expression that matched the way Ryan felt.

  “I just love this time of year, don’t you?” Phoebe chattered as she headed the van through town. “All the Christmas decorations—everything’s so beautiful. Especially in the snow.”

  Ryan huddled in the back, where she didn’t have to talk to Charles. It startled her when he reached back and patted her shoulder, then turned around to smile.

  “I love the snow, too. So clean and pure.”

  “I don’t even mind driving in it. Not like ice,” Phoebe babbled. “I hate driving on ice.”

  “Ice,” Charles murmured. “It’s so dangerous, ice. So scary.”

  “Let’s not talk about ice,” Phoebe said quickly. “Let’s talk about you.”

  “There’s nothing to tell, really. I lead an extremely boring life.”

  “You don’t look boring,” Phoebe’s glance was coy. “What do you like to do?”

  “The unexpected.” Charles’s smile broadened. “I’m a great believer in surprises.”

  “Ooh, I like that!” Phoebe giggled. “Most guys are so predictable.”

  “Are they?” Charles shrugged. “I like to think I’m not like other guys.”

  “Oh, look!” Phoebe honked the horn and waved. “There’s everybody over there!” In her excitement the van went too quickly around a corner, and Phoebe slid into Charles.

  “Hey, it’s okay.” He grinned. “It’s a nice change having a girl throw herself at me.” As Phoebe laughed, Charles glanced back at Ryan, but she looked away.

  The evening should have been fun, but to Ryan it was only an endless blur. As she listlessly trailed the merry group of carolers up and down neighborhood streets, she felt conspicuously separate from everyone else. Phoebe and Michael were snuggled up together, singing offkey harmony, and every time Ryan looked up, Charles was watching her w
ith a concerned smile. She tried to beg off from the party, but Phoebe wouldn’t hear of it, and once they’d reached Michael’s house miles out in the country, she resigned herself to being trapped. With the party in full swing around her, Ryan finally managed to find an empty room and settled herself down to wait.

  “So there you are,” a voice greeted her from the doorway, and her heart sank as Charles sat beside her. “You’re missing out on all the fun.”

  “I want to miss the fun.” Ryan leaned back and shut her eyes. “I don’t feel much like fun right now.”

  When he didn’t answer, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was smiling and holding out a cup.

  “No, thank you,” she said.

  “Oh, go on, drink it. It’s only hot cider.”

  “I don’t want it.”

  Charles sighed and set the cup down on the table in front of her. “I’ll leave it here in case you change your mind.”

  He had started back toward the door, but now he stopped and faced her, and the hurt on his face caught her off-guard.

  “You know,” Charles said slowly, “if I hadn’t shown up when I did at the house earlier, you might have frozen to death. At the very least, you could have ended up with pneumonia.” A muscle moved in his jaw, and his voice lowered. “I don’t understand why you’re acting this way. I don’t think I deserve it.”

  As Ryan stared, Charles opened his mouth as if to say more, then seemed to change his mind. He let himself out, closing the door behind him.

  Taken aback, Ryan sat there, her mind in a whirl. She could still see the expression on his face, hear the confusion in his voice. I’ve been acting so mean to him. She remembered him offering to change rooms with her … talking so sweetly about Marissa … bringing the Christmas tree … “I thought you needed brightening up.…”

  “Oh, Ryan, you’re such a bitch sometimes,” she groaned. So what if Charles seemed a little self-centered—maybe he was really insecure and that was his way of covering up. Maybe he really is hurting about Marissa—just as much as me.…

  Ryan picked up the cider and sipped it. No matter how different Charles seemed, that didn’t give her the right to be rude. Especially when he really might have saved my life tonight. Not wanting to think any more about her close call, Ryan downed the rest of her drink and went out to join the others.

  The party was getting wilder by the minute. Charles didn’t seem to be anywhere around, and Ryan caught up with Phoebe in the kitchen.

  “Phoebe, have you seen Charles?”

  “He was here a minute ago, and I wondered why you weren’t with him. Okay, what happened?”

  “Nothing. I told you before, he’s not my date.”

  “Well, you’d better get smart and latch on to him. He’s cute! And he has nice manners, unlike most of the heathens around here.”

  “Are you speaking of Michael, too?” Ryan teased.

  “If you’re not interested in Charles, I could be,” Phoebe retorted. “All that beautiful blond hair—and that smile—”

  “Look, Phoebe, if you see Charles, just tell him I’m looking for him, okay?”

  Phoebe pretended to be deep in thought. “Hmmm … this sounds almost promising—”

  “Just do it.” Ryan chuckled. She started through the doorway when the room suddenly tilted around her.

  Shocked, Ryan grabbed at the doorframe, her stomach lurching, her heart pounding in a frantic race. Above her the ceiling turned upside down, and around her the furniture went topsy-turvy. Her legs turned to rubber, and she sat down hard on the floor.

  “Phoebe”—she tried to shout, but her mouth was all cottony—“Phoebe—oh!”

  If she hadn’t felt so dizzy, she would have laughed at herself hugging the wall, even though she’d already fallen onto the floor. She wanted to laugh, it was so ridiculous, and as she tried to boost herself up, she heard Phoebe’s voice close to her ear.

  “Oh, Charles, what’s wrong with her? Is she okay?”

  “She’s fine. Come on, now, Ryan, I’ve got you, up you go—”

  “Ryan, what’s wrong?” And there was Phoebe’s face, all distorted like a funny mask, and Charles’s face blurry beside it. “Oh, don’t let anyone see her like this, she’d be so embarrassed!”

  “Phoebe.” Ryan reached for her friend’s arm, but her own hand fell uselessly away. “I really need to go home, okay?”

  “What did you do, Ryan? Did you drink something? Did you eat something bad? Are you sick?”

  “No, I always look like this!” Ryan heard herself laughing and saw Phoebe and Charles exchange looks. “Oh—oh—the room’s going again. I’m going with it—”

  “Catch her!” Phoebe yelled at Charles. “Oh, God, Ryan, I’ve got to get you home. Did you take something? Medicine? What’s wrong with her, Charles?”

  Ryan tugged on her sleeve. “You’ll have to drive me home.”

  Phoebe nodded, helping Charles hold Ryan up. “Okay, wait just a second while I tell Michael—”

  “Come on, Phoebe, there’s no reason for you to leave,” Charles broke in. “I’m ready to call it a night anyway. I can borrow your car and bring it back.”

  “No, just keep it. Take Ryan home, and I’ll get a ride and pick up the van tomorrow.” Phoebe glanced worriedly at Ryan’s glazed expression. “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

  Charles accepted the keys Phoebe handed him. “She didn’t feel too good earlier. This is probably just a delayed reaction. Don’t worry—she probably just needs some sleep.”

  Ryan felt chilled to the bone and could hardly feel herself walking to the van. She leaned against Charles as Phoebe gave him directions and hurriedly piled blankets on the floor.

  “You lie down and bundle up back here, Ryan,” Phoebe insisted. “Then you can sleep on the way.”

  “Good thinking,” Charles said admiringly. “Everyone should have such a good friend.”

  “That’s what I keep telling her.” Phoebe chuckled and waved as they took off.

  Ryan felt like a sack of lead. She was conscious of the hard floor beneath her and the mountain of blankets on top of her, but her mind was too fuzzy to comprehend more. The only sounds were the motor’s hum, the whine of the heater, and the tick of the wipers brushing snow. As she gave in to the rocking motion of the van, her eyes grew unbearably heavy. When she came to, it was because of something sensed rather than known, and as she struggled to sit up, she saw Charles leaning forward, squinting through the windshield.

  “What’s the matter?” Ryan mumbled. “Where are we?”

  Charles’s look was concerned but calm. “To tell you the truth, I’m not sure. I think we might be lost.”

  “What? We can’t be.”

  Ryan strained to see through the fogged-up windows. It was snowing again—even harder than before—and nothing in the landscape looked even remotely familiar.

  “What’d you do?” She turned accusing eyes on him, and he gave a sheepish shrug.

  “I don’t know. I must’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere. Stop looking at me like that—you act like I did it on purpose.”

  “There weren’t any turns to take until we hit town. Stop the car.” Her heart was racing now, danger signals coursing through her body.

  “But—”

  “Stop the car! I mean it, Charles, stop it right—”

  Her sentence was jolted from her as Charles yanked the wheel and the van slid sideways. Ryan hit the floor and felt the van fishtail, straighten out, then skid. There was a heavy thud as they stopped, and then she heard Charles cursing as he threw off his seat belt and shoved open the door.

  “Stay here,” he ordered, even as Ryan struggled to follow.

  “I will not,” she said groggily. “You’re crazy, you know that? People like you shouldn’t be allowed out on the road.”

  “A dog ran right in front of me. What’d you expect me to do—kill it?”

  “Did you hit it?” Ryan asked anxiously. She was so dizzy, she could hardly hold her he
ad up. I feel like I’ve been drugged.… “Where are you going?”

  “To check the van.” Charles disappeared for several minutes, then his face reappeared in the window, his expression tense. “This is great. I think we have a flat. And a missing hubcap.”

  “What about the dog?”

  “What do I care about a damn dog? I’ve got to get us out of here.”

  “Well, what are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to try and find that hubcap, and then I’m going to try and fix the tire, if the tools are here to do it with.”

  “Oh, they’re probably not.” Ryan groaned, and fell back onto the blankets. “Jinx is always using them, and Mr. Evans is always yelling at him to put them back, and he’s always forgetting.”

  “Well, just stay put.” She could hear him walking away, and she pulled herself up to the front and tried to yell at him.

  “Why don’t you see if you can find that dog?”

  “Ryan, I mean it—stay inside and keep the window up. And get under those blankets. It’s freezing out here.”

  Ryan listened for several minutes more. She could hear him muttering, and as she craned her neck through the window, she saw him walking farther and farther from the car, his head lowered, searching the ground. With all her strength she managed to inch open the door and get out. I wonder if he really did hit that dog. The poor thing could be lying out here in the cold.…

  The temperature had dropped a lot in the past few hours. Ryan gasped as the first icy blast hit her and she started walking unsteadily. If we skidded from over there, then the dog must be around here.…

  The snow was heavy and wet, already changing the landscape with deceptive drifts. Ryan blinked snow from her lashes and shielded her face with one hand, scanning the white fields for some sign of movement. Maybe it was just a shadow Charles saw.… Maybe there really wasn’t a dog at all, and he just thought he hit something.… She couldn’t bear to think of any creature lying out here, hurt and frightened and alone in the dark. She cupped her hands and whistled softly.

  “Here, dog! Come on—good dog!”

  Straining her ears, Ryan heard deep, heavy silence.…