“If you are so filled with hatred toward me, then why did you send for me?”
“Send for you? I never sent anyone for you. Truth be told, I would have paid or done anything to keep you out of all of our lives—the lives you so royally screwed up!”
The only reason she ever wanted to track down Malcolm Crane was to find Cordelia. And now he had come back to Hawthorne thinking he was going to right his wrongs. But that wasn’t going to happen. Maddie wasn’t giving anyone any more second chances. She’d already learned that the hard way.
“I wanted to bring Cordelia back. I didn’t want you back here. But now that you are, maybe you can make good use of yourself and support my mother—something you’ve failed to do for most of my life. You did know about her cancer, didn’t you?”
He looked down sadly, guilt-ridden.
“Besides, I’m heading back to school, away from Hawthorne, away from all of this, so maybe now you can help pick up the pieces of this family that you shattered years ago,” Maddie shouted, deciding that she’d spoken to her father more than she wanted to, more than he deserved.
Maddie still had questions, like how Malcolm knew to come back to Hawthorne, who was the little boy that Cordelia thought was his son, and how he could abandon his family, but she was too tired for all of it. Too many things happening at once. Her whole world was spinning at such a rapid pace that it felt as though the ground beneath her feet were actually off-kilter.
“Nice seeing you, Dad,” Maddie said, excusing herself. “Why don’t you check in with us in another ten years?”
And with that, Maddie stormed upstairs and went to bed.
After Malcolm left the house and Abigail retired to her room, Cordelia crawled into bed with Maddie, eager to talk about her reunion with Rebecca—and to discuss the man that they both equally despised.
“Thank God you were standing next to me or else I would have completely lost it and just grabbed the nearest, heaviest thing and knocked him out,” Cordelia said. Maddie knew she wasn’t kidding. “But seriously, why would he come here? What does he have to gain by coming here now?”
“I don’t know,” Maddie said sleepily. She looked at the clock; it wasn’t even eleven and she felt like she hadn’t slept in days. “Maybe he read about everything that was going on and thought, ‘Hey, their lives aren’t messed up enough, why don’t I go add more insanity to the mix?’ Who knows? All I care about is that you and Rebecca have made amends. That’s what’s most important.”
Cordelia beamed. Before they all left Fairview, Cordelia spoke to the caseworker to see what needed to be done in order for her mother to be released. Now that Cordelia had returned, Rebecca’s mood was visibly improving so rapidly that the caseworker seemed to think she could be released with outpatient care and medication sometime in the near future. Cordelia was beyond thrilled and wanted to make it happen right away. She was obviously choosing to focus on the positive events of the day and ignore the fact that Malcolm Crane had come back into their lives so unexpectedly and without good reason.
“I know. I can’t believe I did that to her. I’m so selfish. It must be a Crane trait,” Cordelia said, giggling as Maddie threw a pillow at her and it narrowly missed her head. The pillow knocked some books to the floor. But then the knocking came again.
Cordelia stopped giggling. “Is there an echo in here or do you have a ghost knocking on the walls?”
Maddie sat straight up in bed, shushing Cordelia.
There is was again. A slow knocking sound came from downstairs.
“Someone’s at the door, I think,” Maddie whispered.
“Okay,” Cordelia whispered back. “Why don’t we go see who it is?” She was obviously still giddy and acting playful. “And why are we still whispering?”
Maddie shoved Cordelia off the bed playfully and the two girls went downstairs. When they opened the front door, Cordelia’s jaw dropped. Maddie kept her composure and asked, when she saw who was standing in their doorway at that late hour, “Since when does Kate Endicott make house calls?”
“A favor?” Cordelia seemed upset that she hadn’t slammed the door in Kate’s face when she showed up at Mariner’s Way that night, which was obviously what she wanted to do.
The girls sat together whispering in the living room, trying not to awaken Abigail. Maddie was shocked that Kate had even come to the house. She must be really desperate for answers , Maddie thought.
They decided to hear Kate out. Kate quickly explained that the Endicotts didn’t believe in the supernatural or curses or anything of that nature, but they were unhappy with all the setbacks that were related to Ravenswood: the fires, as well as Bronwyn’s disappearance and Darcy’s murder. Kate Endicott would never admit that she was cursed, but she was concerned that her family had a string of bad luck following them and anyone around them.
“So I’m coming to you—for help,” Kate said quickly. Maddie could tell that she was at the end of her rope, which would be the only reason that she would ever ask for help—especially help from Cordelia.
But Cordelia wasn’t so quick to believe that Kate, of all people, would be turning to her for help. “Yeah, so, why do we need to go to your house to get answers? Are you planning on doing another ‘initiation ritual’ for me and Maddie once we get there? How are we supposed to know that we’re not walking into one of your traps?”
“Because I’m scared,” Kate said, her bottom lip quivering. Maddie had never seen Kate like this before and she was hesitant to believe it herself. “My family is about to lose everything. One of my best friends was murdered and the killer is still at large. Bronwyn is missing. Ravenswood was burned to the ground. There just seems to be so much happening around my family—I’m afraid that I’m going to be next.”
“Why should I help you after everything you did to me?” Cordelia shot back. “You had a big hand in destroying my family; why should I help yours?”
“Because it’s not just me that’s at risk,” Kate said flatly. “It’s all of the Sisters of Misery.” She turned to look at Maddie. “Which includes you, Maddie.”
On the road over to Kate’s house, Cordelia had to be reminded several times by Maddie why she was going along with this.
“If she wants our help so badly, why can’t we do it at our own house? Why do we have go to Kate’s?” Cordelia felt like they were following a poisonous spider back to her web.
“I don’t know, but it’s just as well. My mom has been through so much today, I’d rather not have her get angry with me on top of everything else. I can’t take any more stress.”
“You’re telling me,” Cordelia added. Maddie realized how much Cordelia must be going through. Coming back to Hawthorne, reuniting with Finn and her mother, coming face-to-face with two people she despised: Malcolm Crane and Kate Endicott. She was handling it very well. Almost too well.
Maddie sighed. “Let’s just get this over with and see what she wants us to do.”
“Fine, but if I see a boat or a blindfold or anything that reminds me of my initiation ceremony, I’m out of there.”
Maddie was in awe of Cordelia’s courage. She’d been facing the ghosts of her past all within such a short period of time and taking it all in stride. Maddie wondered if she’d hold up so well under such intense pressure.
“Humph,” Cordelia said, and then reluctantly smiled. “The only reason I’m heading over there is for your sake. And so that I can get a better look at her bruised face, courtesy of my awesome sister.”
The two girls broke into hysterics as the car wound its way down the wooded path to Kate’s house.
Kiki Endicott answered the door and looked at them with disdain. “Yes?” she asked rudely. Kate obviously hadn’t informed Kiki of the late night visit.
“Mom, it’s okay, I invited them over,” Kate said, opening the door wider to allow the girls to enter. Kiki stumbled backward. The ruby-red wine in her crystal goblet sloshed over her hand and slid down her arm. She shook her arm angrily, swearing at Kate for being clumsy, and stumbled down the corridor.
Kate laughed. “Looks like she’s going to be down for the count pretty soon,” she said as she motioned to the direction her mother went. “Just as well. I don’t need her to know that I’ve enlisted the help of psychics.”
The girls walked into the grand living room. Maddie could see the lights twinkling across the harbor from the large wraparound windows. They sat down and Cordelia pulled out a Ouija board from her large canvas bag and set it on the glass coffee table.
Kate laughed snidely. “My God, are we back in junior high or what?” she said, and then spoke directly to the board in a little girl’s voice. “Oh master Ouija, who am I going to marry?”
Maddie gave Kate a withering look—one of Kate’s trademark facial expressions given right back to her—and snapped, “Listen, Kate, we’re doing this for you as a favor. Cordelia doesn’t even have to be here, but she is, and the least you could do is be civil. Don’t you want to find Bronwyn? And figure out who killed Darcy? Jesus, Kate, what do you want?”
Kate sniffed toward Cordelia and said, “I’d like for your cousin to admit to how much she’s screwed up this town with her disappearing act, and I’d really prefer to not be playing a Parker Brothers game and expect a real answer. And I’d like you to apologize for hitting me in the face! That’s what I really want.”
Just as the words came out of her mouth a large crash sounded outside, reverberating through the room. The lights went out and they were thrown into darkness. Something pushed the three girls backward and Maddie felt something whiz by her cheek. Another smaller crash, only this time it felt closer.
The wind picked up outside suddenly, as if a storm was coming off the sea. It could only be described as a moan. The hair on Maddie’s arms stood up and her skin prickled. Kate must have experienced a similar feeling because she snapped, “Damn electrical storm.”
Then Maddie felt Kate stand up and start calling into the darkness. “Rosalinda, can you get the electric lanterns and some flashlights?”
There was a scurry of movement in the adjacent rooms. Kate’s staff was quick to act.
And then instantly the lights came back on. Maddie and Cordelia still remained in the exact positions they were in prior to the lights going out. The Ouija board still rested on the table, but the plastic eye was missing. Kate was standing in the doorway, still calling out to the help, when she turned and started back into the room.
“Ouch, for Christ’s sake,” Kate whined, grabbing her foot and hopping up and down. There were streaks of dark red blood that matched her perfectly manicured toes. She started plucking pieces of glass from the arch of her foot. A crystal picture frame lay shattered at her feet; the plastic eye of the Ouija board lay next to the broken frame, as if hurled by unseen hands at the pictures.
“Thanks, Cordelia,” Kate snapped. “Throwing that piece of crap toy at me was real mature.”
“I didn’t do it,” Cordelia said honestly.
“Whatever,” Kate mumbled angrily as she hopped over to the couch and grabbed an old blanket to sop up the blood.
Maddie looked at Cordelia curiously. She had felt Cordelia next to her the entire time. Neither one of them had moved. Who threw the Ouija board eye across the room? And with enough force to knock over a heavy, lead-crystal picture frame?
“What picture was it?” Cordelia asked calmly.
“It doesn’t matter,” Kate snapped. “Anyway, if you wanted to hit me, you’ll have to improve your aim.”
“Believe me, Kate, if I was going to throw something at you, it would be a lot heavier than a crappy piece of plastic,” Cordelia said. “Now, I’ll ask you again, who’s in the picture?”
“Why do you care?” Kate asked.
“Because whoever is in that picture is either responsible for Bronwyn and Darcy—or is the next to die.”
Kate flipped the picture over and Maddie realized that it had been taken that afternoon at the Crestwood Yacht Club right after Cordelia disappeared. There, smiling on the deck of the yacht club with the afternoon sun glinting off the harbor, were five girls that made up the Sisters of Misery: Maddie, Kate, Hannah, Darcy, and Bridget. If Cordelia’s predictions were accurate (and they usually were frighteningly so), that meant that any one of them was the murderer, or one of them was the next in line for a gruesome fate.
“What, are you saying that I’m the murderer? Sorry, I don’t do manual labor and I’m not in a hurry to do hard time. And I don’t think that I’m being stalked by some psycho predator.”
“From the looks of things, I’d say you’re looking at plan B.”
The girls turned and were horrified to see that above the doorway there appeared to be an inverted cross crudely painted in blood.
“What the hell is that and where did it come from?” Kate insisted.
“All I know is that when people are trying to protect a house from evil, they make the sign of the cross over doorways in holy water. So—”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning that instead of keeping evil forces out, someone or something is inviting evil forces into your picture-perfect life.”
“Why do you think it’s me? There are five of us in that picture,” Kate said defensively.
“Darcy’s already dead. That pretty much counts her out. And the mark of Satan just appeared on your door. Plus, the fact that your family is the one directly descended from the witch trial judges pretty much makes you the number-one target, I’d say.”
“Cordelia,” Maddie interrupted. “Do you really think that one of us is in danger?”
“Well, that picture is associated with someone who is in trouble—real trouble,” Cordelia said in a knowing way. It reminded Maddie of when Tess had a hunch about something. There was no need to question it, because you knew she was speaking the truth.
“What about the person who took the picture?” Kate said stoically.
Maddie suddenly remembered clearly the day that the picture was taken. She’d been so concerned about Cordelia’s disappearance that Maddie hadn’t even remembered Bronwyn Maxwell being there. But she was. And she had taken the picture of them.
“Bronwyn,” Maddie said hurriedly.
And after she said the name, a dream she’d had weeks ago suddenly came to her as if it were a movie playing out in front of her.
I open my eyes and see Bronwyn gagged and bound on the dirt floor. She’s in a cellar that looks straight out of the turn of the century, which could be any of the older houses or historical properties in Hawthorne, Salem, Marblehead, or anywhere on the North Shore. It seems familiar, but I’m not sure if I’ve ever been here before. Bronwyn’s face is tear-streaked and dirty, and etched with fear. Somehow I’ve stumbled into this dream, and yet is it a dream of the past, the present, or what is yet to come? Is Bronwyn still alive? Or is the killer simply having a sadistic remembrance of the thrill of keeping Bronwyn captive?
She’s lo
oking at me in fear, and there’s so much inside me that wants to help her. But I’m at the mercy of the person who is keeping her captive. I’m looking through his eyes, not my own. I am only a watchful participant, with no ability to alter the consequences. I fear that I’m going to see Bronwyn murdered right in front of my eyes, the same way I witnessed Darcy’s death. This can’t be happening, not again. I try to reach out to her, but I feel as though I’m paralyzed. I have no control over my body. All I can do is watch. Suddenly my arms are moving—though I have no idea what is going to happen next. It’s like watching a scary movie and trying desperately to tell the victim to run, get out of there, save yourself! The monster is going to get you! But in this instance, I am watching the events play out through the monster’s eyes. I am watching a girl recoil in fear for her life, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
“Bronwyn, no!” Maddie screamed. When she opened her eyes, she realized she was on the floor, and Cordelia and Kate were looking down at her anxiously. She must have passed out. The back of her head hurt where it struck the floor.
Cordelia knelt down next to her and asked, “What did you see? What happened? Could you see where Bronwyn is? Is she still alive?”
Kate skeptically looked down at Maddie like she was a freak, as if they were putting on a show for her. “What the hell was that, Crane?”
“I saw Bronwyn. I don’t know who has her or where, but she’s definitely in danger. I—I couldn’t do anything….” Maddie started crying. “I tried to stop it. I really did.”
“Stop what?” Kate asked, her interest piqued.
“Stop her from being killed,” Maddie said stoically. “I watched her die.”
Chapter 23
The Lost Sister Page 21