Trace of Evil

by Alice Blanchard

  Everything thundered to a halt. “Grace. Step away from the ledge, okay?”

  “And here’s the weird part…”

  “Grace, I’m serious. Take my hand.”

  “We all agreed … we had to stick together … we told ourselves we had a pact. A coven. A sisterhood.”

  “Stop talking,” Natalie said heatedly. “Do you understand? Not another word.”

  Grace shook her head fiercely. She looked at Natalie as if she were already dead inside. “None of us said we should stop. Not a single one of us questioned what we were doing. Isn’t that disgusting?”

  “Grace, listen to me,” Natalie pleaded. “Whatever you say can and will be used against you.”

  Grace shook her head violently. “Yeah, I get it. You want to protect me.”

  “It doesn’t matter that I’m your sister … do you understand? Please stop talking. I’m advising you … you don’t want to incriminate yourself.”

  Grace rested her fingers delicately on her forehead. “It felt like a dream. Lindsey went first … then we all took turns, while Willow screamed and tried to get away.”

  Natalie’s arms flew up, trying to push away the words. Trying to find a way out of this nightmare. So tangled up in the revelation that any attempt to free herself would only make it worse, like a crow caught in a snare.

  “I couldn’t believe it was happening,” Grace confessed. “Willow was lying on the ground, crying and trying to defend herself, and then … Lindsey handed me the knife and told me to do it. But I just couldn’t. Do you believe me, Natalie? I couldn’t do it. But Lindsey threatened me and said that if I didn’t do it, they’d have to kill me, too. They’d stab us both. Me and Willow. So I did it. A fog came over me, and I thought, Oh God, is this really happening? I was stabbing my own sister. I was totally freaking out, and I stabbed her again and again. We were all screaming and yelling … We went ballistic.”

  Tears sprang to Natalie’s eyes. “Shut the fuck up.”

  “We had it all planned. We tricked her into it. I begged and pleaded with Willow to drive me over to the farm that day. I made up some bullshit excuse … so we drove over there, and Lindsey, Daisy, and Bunny were all waiting. We surrounded her, and Lindsey hit her over the head with a log, and Willow went down. At the time, I remember thinking—why should she get everything, when I get nothing? That was stuck in my head. I hated her. But I wasn’t alone, you see. We all hated her, because she was so fucking perfect and everybody loved her … all the guys wanted to fuck her. Gregg, Brandon, Justin, all of them. We couldn’t compete. It made us sick. And so we hatched a plot. I didn’t think I could cross that line, but it’s much easier than you think. I’m not a bad person, Natalie—you know that. I don’t know what happened to me that day … something cracked inside my head, and for the rest of my life I didn’t want to believe it. I’d almost convinced myself Justin killed her. I can even picture it in my head. I told myself it was just a bad dream, you know? That we didn’t really do it…”

  Natalie’s veins had filled with ice. “Grace … please. Say it isn’t true. Tell me you’re mixing things up in your head.”

  She hugged herself and gazed across the lake. “I’ve ruined everything, and I have no idea how it happened, because I’ve always followed the rules. But I must be bad, right? There must be something wrong with me, Natalie. Because look at all the grief I’ve caused. You don’t know how many times I wished I could take it all back. But we went a little crazy that day. A little insane. I can’t explain it. I’ve had to live with it for years now, and I just can’t face it anymore. I’ve never been so scared in my life.”

  “That’s okay,” Natalie whispered. “I’m here.”

  “When it was over, we stood there with blood on our hands, blood on our raincoats,” Grace said tonelessly. “We had to blame someone, so we made up a story about Willow breaking up with Justin—we chose him. I called him from Willow’s phone and pretended to be her. I could mimic her voice perfectly. I told him to meet me at the farm in half an hour. Then we covered our tracks as best we could, and it was raining really hard by the time we left. We got rid of Willow’s phone and threw the knife in the lake. Then we drove to Lindsey’s house, since her mom wasn’t home, and washed the blood off our raincoats and used bleach for the bottoms of our shoes. I’d learned a lot from Dad about covering up a crime. It wasn’t just you who was listening.”

  Natalie stood in stunned silence.

  “It feels like I’ve been living inside a nightmare for twenty years,” Grace said. “It drove Bunny crazy—literally. It drew me closer to Daisy than ever. So close, she trusted me a thousand percent. Completely. Absolutely. This was our deepest, darkest secret. Our sisterhood. But then, everything fell apart when she got pregnant … because, fuck, it was horrible. She totally fell apart once she realized the baby was coming. She blamed herself for her previous miscarriages—she thought it was punishment for what we did to Willow. But this time, she told me, she couldn’t live with the lies. She wasn’t going to keep our secret anymore. She said … and this was her reasoning … she couldn’t bring a child into the world without a clear conscience in front of God.” Grace made a face. “Can you believe that? She was never a religious person. She and Brandon barely went to church. But now, all of a sudden, she wants to confess everything. She was going to tell her minister about it … to confess her sins to him.”

  “Grace, listen to me. We can figure this out. Come back to the car and let’s talk.”

  “No, baby girl,” Grace said sadly.

  Tears sprang to Natalie’s eyes. “Just come back with me … please.”

  “I tried talking her out of it—Daisy. I told her to let it go, but she wouldn’t listen to reason,” Grace went on, needing to unburden herself. “I couldn’t believe my best friend was about to ruin everything. It had taken the four of us forever to get over it and put it behind us and build up our lives. But now, Daisy was going to destroy everything in a heartbeat and take the rest of us down with her. She was going to ruin everything, and I couldn’t let that happen. I just couldn’t. She told me her minster was a good guy, that he’d keep it confidential, but that wasn’t her decision to make. It was supposed to be the four of us deciding together. This wasn’t about me, it was about Ellie and Ellie’s future. It was about our children and everything we’d built for ourselves in this town. I couldn’t let her guilt-trip me into destroying my daughter’s life. I had to stop her.”

  Natalie didn’t dare move, fearing that the fragility of Grace’s emotional state would disintegrate if she reacted in any way.

  “It happened so fast,” Grace whispered, deep lines of stress forming on her lovely face. “I didn’t plan it that way. I went over to Daisy’s house after school to talk her out of this crazy notion that somehow the truth was going to save her. I was convinced I could change her mind. I was on a mission. I was determined to save us all, no matter what … but then, before I knew it, she was dead.” Grace gasped for breath, her hands balled into fists. “I’m so sorry, Natalie. I haven’t slept in days, and my head’s all messed up … but I’m not a cold-blooded monster. You know that, right?”

  Natalie didn’t know how to respond to any of this. She could barely remember who Grace was or what she used to represent—all the best parts of her. “You’re my sister, and I love you,” she said mechanically. “I’m here to help.” Desperate now. “Please, Grace, step away from the ledge.”

  Grace shook her head. “I’m an average person. A normal, everyday teacher and mother, for God’s sake. But now people are going to think I’m a terrible human being, and I can’t live with that. I tried making up for it, Natalie. We all did—we tried to make amends. But with Daisy, I had no choice. She was going to ruin our lives. And that was something I couldn’t allow.”

  Police sirens wailed in the distance, and Grace turned her head.

  “Careful,” Natalie said, trying to focus on getting them down off the cliff. The second she had the opportunity, Nata
lie would grab her and not let go.

  “I did it for Ellie,” Grace admitted. “I did it to protect her.”

  Natalie’s insides hurt, a horrible sinking feeling. “Let’s go sit in my car and talk things over. Next steps,” she said gently. “I promise you, everything’s going to be all right. I’ll make sure of that.”

  Grace shook her head stubbornly.

  “Please, just … take my hand.”

  “Listen to me. I love you, and you’re going to be fine. Better than fine, Natalie. You’re going to have an amazing life.”

  She saw the crazed determination in her sister’s eyes and realized what she was up against. “No…”

  “Promise me you’ll take good care of her?”

  Natalie inched forward. “I’m going to protect you both. Understand? I’m going to do what’s best for you and Ellie. Trust me.” She sprang into action, all hope vanishing. She lunged forward, but Grace fought back, fiercely lashing out and slamming her fist into Natalie’s nose.

  Despite the throbbing pain, Natalie grabbed her sister by the wrists, and the crumbling rock face gave out, and Grace went over the side of the cliff with a scream.

  Natalie landed on her stomach, clinging to her sister’s sweaty wrists and slowly sliding toward the edge. “Hang on! I’ve got you!”

  “Let go!” Grace shrieked, freeing one of her hands and batting at Natalie’s arms, then digging her nails into her sister’s flesh. “Let me go!”

  “Please,” Natalie sobbed. “Don’t give up!”

  Grace fought ferociously to free herself with more strength than Natalie could’ve anticipated, swinging her body wildly against the side of the cliff and digging her nails so deep into the backs of Natalie’s hands that they drew blood.

  Natalie clung to her sister with every last ounce of willpower, stars exploding inside her skull, but the pull of gravity and the slipperiness of their combined sweat was too much. Terror burned through Natalie as she lost control, and Grace slipped out of her grasp. Natalie screamed and clutched at nothing, fingers grabbing air. She could sense her entire body fighting the pitch of the ledge as a stampede of gravel followed her sister over the edge, skipping and zinging out into the night.

  Natalie lay flat on her stomach on the granite ledge, breathing hard and listening to the dull echoey sound of a body impacting rocks, then a splash, and then nothing.

  “Grace? Grace?”

  She could smell dirt up her nose. It burned whenever she inhaled. Her arms felt like stretched-out socks, pawing at nothing, molecules slipping through her fingers.

  “Grace?”

  She felt a searing pain and numbness bloom inside her chest as she leaned over the edge and stared down into the abyss. The lake at night, so cold and indifferent, was pitch-black, with just a dribble of moonlight splashed across its surface.

  She strained to hear her sister’s voice above the booming of her own heart. But there was nothing. No screams. No gasping for breath. No cries for help.

  The slow withdrawal of all feeling. Shock.

  Trembling. Struggling.

  Everything thundered to a halt.

  Natalie wanted a do-over.

  Let’s hit Replay. Let’s rewind the tape.

  But that was impossible.

  Make the call. Call for help.

  She got on her phone and said, “Send rescue units to Devil’s Point. Get everybody down here. There’s a body in the water.”

  She pushed back her fear and tried to figure out her next move. Dead silence below. No one could have survived a fall like that. It was time to act. Do something. Go back down the hillside and help coordinate the search-and-rescue teams. Talk to backup. Debrief Luke. Act like a professional. Behave like a cop.

  But Natalie simply couldn’t abandon the spot where her sister had once stood.

  56

  Natalie gazed at the starry sky and tried to remember who she was. She had lost her moorings. It was almost midnight, and the temperature had dropped in Burning Lake, New York. She felt a chill as she stooped to pick up a rock, but it crumbled in her hand. The child’s game, Rock Paper Scissors, should have been called Water Rock Scissors. Water transformed rock over geologic time, breaking it down into tiny fragments and washing it away.

  The lake was now grainy in the moonlight, so hauntingly beautiful it broke her mind. Nothing made sense. There were no answers. The water had taken something precious from her. Natalie stood on the crumbling limestone edge of the cliff, with the woods behind her, trees swaying in a cool breeze. Everything in Burning Lake was shaped by the relentless winds and the rippling water. Natalie felt so small by comparison.

  If you dove from a great height, the water didn’t soften the landing. It was like hitting a concrete wall. At Devil’s Point, within seconds of being airborne, you might be speeding along at sixty miles per hour, and then, if you weren’t perfectly aligned, your bones could fracture as you hit the surface of the lake. It didn’t matter if you were a good swimmer or not. Cliff diving required great skill and a fearless attitude—feet first, arms by your sides, in a pencil-dive position. Even the slightest angle could kill you.

  It was ridiculously dangerous.

  It was disorienting.

  If you survived the initial plunge into the dark water, you might sink deep into the murk and not know where you were. If the lake was cold, as it often was in April, you might feel an urge to gasp underwater. If you panicked, you could drown. If you got injured, you could drown, since it was impossible to swim with broken bones. The rocks could kill you.

  Natalie made her way down the gently sloping cliffside and crouched on the bluffs overlooking the lake, searching for her sister’s body below and waiting for the rescue teams to arrive. The night was filled with chaos and colored lights. Firefighters and rescue personnel had to cross the lake by boat to get to such a remote area, and that took precious time. Most of the emergency assistance came from the waterfront, not the bluffs, since a cliff rescue was too dangerous at night.

  Rescue efforts included a helicopter with sweeping spotlights, noisy Zodiac boats, and a dive team in scuba gear. Red and blue beacons from the police vehicles strobed against the trees across the lake, creating freakish silhouettes. It was nearly three A.M. by the time Grace’s body was pulled from the lake.

  Natalie met Luke down on the waterfront, where he’d been supervising the rescue efforts. He put his arms around her for a moment, trying to reassure her, but she felt nothing, no emotion, not a flicker. A strobing red light hit the side of his concerned face. She could hear urgent voices, could sense frantic activity going on around her. A group of rescue workers were waiting patiently for her in the water.

  She went over to the Zodiac boat that held her sister’s body and dipped her hand into the water. It was shockingly cold. She withdrew her shivering fingers.

  There were spirals of black in the olive-green water of the lake. A thin mist clung to the surface. It rolled over Grace’s lifeless eyes and settled into her shock-white mouth, like a cup ready to receive the fading stars. She was so pale, you could count the veins on her delicate eyelids. Her nails were painted raspberry pink, and her pretty blond hair made paisley swirls over her bloodless cheeks.

  The shock of it—the cold, sharp shock—jabbed at Natalie repeatedly, like a bone knife. The terror was hard to describe. She held Grace’s freezing cold hand for as long as the rescue team would let her. She tried to undo what had happened. She tried to unpack and reassemble it. She willed her teeth to stop chattering while her mind spun around in circles, thinking it could reverse time.

  You’re police, her father once told her. You can’t afford self-pity.

  She released a choked sob, and then buttoned up tight.

  Two portable klieg lights onshore lit the entire scene. This side of the lake was a designated swim area, with lifeguard towers, restrooms, and a boardwalk. The snack bar had been converted into a temporary command post. Members of the BLPD were out in force. Firemen from the surr
ounding towns, an ambulance crew, volunteer search-and-rescue organizations, and the New York DWW Forest Rangers had all come to help. The DWW had set up the dive rescue effort—Jimmy Marconi, Samuel, and the rest. They had pulled Grace’s body out of the water, and now they waited patiently for her to release Grace’s hand.

  “You ready?” Jimmy asked softly, and Natalie nodded.

  She could feel a growing weakness in her knees as she waded away from the boat, away from Grace. She caught her reflection in the rippling water.

  One of the rescue workers was rinsing the mud off his hands. He had peeled down the top of his wet suit, revealing his muscular torso. His arms were bare, and she could see them reflected in the ruffling water. She blinked, unsure of what she was looking at. Two bare arms in the water’s undulating surface. The man’s left arm had a birthmark nestled in the fleshy inner elbow. A port-wine startled butterfly.

  She looked up, up, up … all the way up. It was Samuel Winston. She’d never seen him out of his long-sleeved wet suit or his DWW vinyl jacket before. She’d never seen his bare arms. Back in college, during their one boring date, he’d worn a flannel shirt and peacoat, since it was early winter. Natalie hadn’t bumped into him again until years later, when she was a rookie cop and he was a seasoned ranger.

  Now Samuel gave her a genuinely sympathetic look and said, “I’m sorry for your loss, Natalie.”

  She stared at him. She’d known him for years, and yet, now that she looked at him, she realized what a complete stranger he was—medium-length brown hair, hazel eyes, approximately five eleven, athletic and fit, a good-looking married guy in his late thirties. His blue baseball cap bore the DWW logo.

  Words floated through her tangled brain but she couldn’t capture them quickly enough. Her thoughts were all twisted up inside her head. Her tongue felt dead. Her nostrils flared from the stench of a raccoon carcass, twenty-one years ago. Samuel’s eyes were like a brilliant mist coalescing into two piercing points.

  Some of the rangers were gathering up their gear—portable oxygen tanks, first aid kits, respiratory kits—while others slowly dragged the boat ashore. Now Samuel walked away from Natalie and headed for the waterfront parking lot, while she stared after him. Like Joey used to say, When all possibilities are eliminated, whatever remains is the answer.