Dead, Actually Part 18

'You sanctimonious p.r.i.c.k! Im onto you! I know what youre trying to pull with my parents! I told them!

'What! His eyes narrowed and his mouth pulled into a firm hard line. Why had I ever thought he was good-looking?

'And I told them about Macey! Yes! I know about that too!

His face whitened for a moment but it was only a moment. And then he smiled. A slow, sly smile. Superior. 'And I take it from the fact that youre here and they arent that they didnt believe you, right? His smile broadened. 'Poor Willow. Just a poor little rich girl with no one to love her; no one to believe her . . .

Okay, he knew how to fight dirty; it couldnt have hurt more if hed physically slapped me. But I stood firm; I wasnt going to let him get to me. I wasnt . . . 'Theyll work it out, Simon. Theyre not stupid. I know you think they are, but- He moved in closer. And laughed. 'Are you kidding me? Those two have their heads so far up their a.s.ses they couldnt spot a scam if it came at them gift-wrapped. Get used to it, Willow Im going to be in your life for a long time. He smirked. 'Well, at least till the money runs out.

Hed reached me, only inches from my body. Instinct told me to back away, but I didnt want him to see that he was getting to me. Too late I realised my mistake. His hands clamped around my arms and he dragged me against him. 'But that doesnt mean Im not here for a good time as well.

'Let me go! You rotten, slimy b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Let me g- His lips were on mine. I pushed as hard as I could, I kicked and squirmed. His lips felt hot and slimy, his hands so creepy I thought I might vomit but he held tight. My one thought was to get free to get away. But his hands were everywhere, blocking every move. I clawed and kicked, but he was bigger; stronger. My head crashed against his shoulder and as his lips released mine, I opened my mouth and bared my teeth. But he was faster and a hand clamped around my throat . . . He squeezed . . . Oh G.o.d . . . My breathing was getting shallower maybe I was going to pa.s.s out. Oh G.o.d, dont let me pa.s.s out! Please . . .

Then over his shoulder, I saw it: JoJo. Her one precious stiletto poised; her eyes boring into Simons head as she took aim.

And thats all it took.

Somehow I did it . . . I pushed . . . With one last thrust I pushed at him and then let out the scream of my life.

It worked in the sense that it stunned him. He didnt let go, but he lost focus for a moment. It was all I needed; I jerked back to free myself, but even as I felt his grip tighten again all h.e.l.l broke loose.

It was the shrill screech of a banshee. A wild woman. And it was coming from behind me.

And then there was a blur a tangle of bodies, screeching and crying and someone screaming for it all to stop.

Was it me? Was I the one screeching? Only seconds had pa.s.sed, but my mind was a haze. My head thumped; my throat burned. I looked down. I was free of Simon and I didnt think I was screaming but he was on the floor with a mad woman on top of him trying to scratch his eyes out. He was the one screaming for help.

She was fighting for me? My mother was fighting for me? The screeches were from her. What if she got hurt? I dived to drag her off but my hands were shaking so badly . . . Then Dad was there; his roar was guttural as he dragged Simon to his feet and pushed him up against a wall. Dad was shaking. His voice came from far away. 'You low b.a.s.t.a.r.d! Dont you ever, ever lay a finger on my daughter again! Do you hear? I ought to beat you senseless!

Like I was watching from a distance, I saw Simons eyes widen. 'What do you mean? I told you what she and Macey were like! She barged in here and came on to me!

'I . . . N . . .! Words wouldnt come; my mouth wouldnt work.

Mimi grabbed my arms and made me look into her face. 'Willow? Go to your room. Do you hear me? Go to your room.

My eyes felt huge, my body shook. My breaths were gasps.

My legs barely carried me, but I made it to the bed, crawling under the covers that I somehow pulled up over my head.

Through the night I heard voices, felt a cool washer bathing my face. I obliged when asked to 'open up; remembered the sticky sweet medicine sliding down my bruised throat . . .

But these were just fragments, because for the most part, I slept. Slept properly for the first time in what seemed to be forever.

Chapter Sixteen.

The next day was surreal. My whole body felt heavy; Id slept for sixteen hours and the minute Id woken my mind had offered up a blow-by-blow replay of the day before. Yet, even with these vivid images rolling over, it was still hard to fully comprehend. Had it all been real?

The cemetery scene had happened. Woolly-headed or not, there was no way my imagination could have created the hurt Id seen in Seths eyes; no way I would have imagined the pain that betrayal caused.

Or the heart-tearing horror of having my parents not believe me.

But the rest. Simon. My body shuddered and I gingerly ran my fingers over my throat. OMG, hed . . . My heart picked up speed . . . I couldnt go there.

My parents? Had my parents really fought Simon for me? Or had my emotionally overloaded brain flipped and Id conjured an alternate universe where I made things the way I wanted them to be?

But if that was the case, Id know almost instantly, because thered be no JoJo, and Macey and Seth would ring or appear any minute. And in my deepest of hearts I knew neither of those things were going to happen. Which meant it was probably all true.

I pressed my fingers against my temples; thinking hurt. Fragments of the night that had followed flittered in and out of my memory. Had my parents been here then? Or was that just a dream? A sickly, squeamish feeling curled around in my stomach. What was I supposed to do? Just barge on down there? But what if nothing had changed? And what if Simon was still here?

Simon. Oh G.o.d, I was going to have to think about it sometime. I remembered some of the attack. I remembered . . . JoJo? Hadnt JoJo . . .? I looked around the room she wasnt there. Had she gone? Was it over? Relief warred with guilt. I should have thanked her . . .

Gingerly I slid off the bed and pushed to my feet. No wooziness. In fact, I felt better than Id thought I was going to. I hit the bathroom first, and then the closet, where I found JoJo. Shed obviously been there a while, and evidence of a frenzied search sat in haphazard piles of clothes and shoes. Finding JoJo in my closet, and making a h.e.l.l of a mess, proved that this was no alternate universe, but didnt relieve my stress. 'JoJo?

She looked straight at me; her face was even more pale than ever. 'Nothings changed.

'I disagree. You were ready to help me yesterday.

'Momentary aberration. Im over it.

I shrugged. 'I suppose I can guess what youre doing?

'Well, they are one-off Christian Louboutin. She stopped and offered an impatient shrug. 'And I need the other one.

'Its not here, JoJo, I reminded her softly. 'Its never been here. You lost it at the accident. Remember?

'Oh . . . It was all she said. And Ill admit, it rocked me. For a week shed been spewing abuse and then all of a sudden it was just, 'Oh?

'Are you okay?

'Im dead, Willow. Remember? Am I okay? You work it out. But for the first time there was no real venom in her voice. Just resigned-but-bitter acceptance.

'Im sorry, JoJo. I picked up a couple of tops and shoved them back on the shelf. 'I . . . um . . . thanks for yesterday. She ignored me. 'Look, I kind of feel like I owe you . . . I dont suppose youve remembered anything else?

Shed moved up a shelf and was tossing handbags. 'Only that time is running out. And I have to help my father.

'But why? If I knew why, maybe Id be closer to finding an answer.

'And if I knew "why" Id tell you! I gave you everything yesterday!

Rock-a-bye Baby. I studied her for a while. I knew it would be useless to ask her to stop wrecking my closet. 'JoJo, I asked slowly, 'do you remember why you chose that park to meet Kristie?

She frowned and stared back at me for a long time. 'Developers . . . she answered, still frowning. 'I remember going to see the developers for Dad . . .

It didnt help. But I noted the softening in her. 'Please, Willow. Im getting really scared for him.

Those words refused to leave me; they echoed in my head all through my shower and as I dressed, and they were still weighing heavily as I finally went downstairs. I was proving by the minute that I couldnt even save myself, let alone anyone else. But shed looked so afraid. And I knew what that felt like.

On the way down, again I rang Seth and Macey but still neither answered. Oh G.o.d. I had so much to tell them. Maybe theyd called through the night? Maybe Id missed the calls? I checked my phone: no, nothing. No missed calls. But Macey believed me! Shed told me. Desperate, I sent a message to both of them. But even though I stood staring, willing the phone to beep, nothing ricocheted back and there was nothing I could do to stem the new load of desolation that dumped itself over me.

In the kitchen, things were a bit weird. More than a bit. Mimi was fussing and Dad didnt seem to know what to do. We were awkward, and strangely shy with each other.

'Were there any calls for me? There werent.

Silence.

They asked if I was feeling better. I was.

'Simons gone, Dad told me quietly. 'He wont be back.

A lump rose in my throat and I sucked in my lower lip to try and push it back.

More silence.

It was even stranger when Mimi gave me a present. It wasnt the gift itself it was that I couldnt remember the last time that had happened. If it ever had.

'I saw them, she said nervously as I accepted the box, 'and so I got them for you . . .

I frowned and began opening the lid of the I Billy shoe box. 'When?

She shrugged. 'A few weeks back. I thought theyd be really cute with that little white off-the-shoulder mini with the chunky belt. The one Grandma got you in Paris. She dropped her head, darting looks between me and her hands. 'I thought maybe if you had the right shoes, you might wear it more often.

'Theyre beautiful. It was true, the shoes were gorgeous. Betty Boop peep-toe platforms in black with white polka dots. Before me the dots blurred to become one grey mess, and I cleared my throat to push away the new lump that had landed there. 'I never thought you paid any attention . . .

I raised my head and her eyes held mine and she looked steady, as long as you ignored her strangling the serviette.

'I didnt think you wanted me to, Willow.

Honestly, I had no idea what to say. Admit she was right? Dad broke the moment with his puppy-like p.r.o.nouncement, 'She has heaps of other stuff. A whole spare closet full! He was like a kid on a sugar high.

'And most of it is stuff that wouldnt fit now. Mimis little laugh made me feel sad. 'I never knew whether to . . . Her voice caught.

I nodded; forced a smile. And then, because the moment had become more awkward, I slipped the shoes on. 'Look! They fit perfectly! When I pranced around the kitchen, they almost exploded with joy right there on the kitchen tiles and it struck me how easily life gets screwed up when, really, its the simple things that make us happiest. Like listening to each other. Like your mother buying you shoes. Except that they didnt fix everything; the shoes didnt block out all the pain and hurt. I wanted them to really wanted them to make all the past go away. But they didnt. They were just pretty shoes.

I looked down at them again and expected the same rush of confusion, but this time it was another rush that overtook me. Shoes. What was it with shoes?

JoJo had harked on about hers since shed arrived. And what else? My mind went suddenly blank, but I knew I was onto something important. But what? Im embarra.s.sed to admit I was kind of grateful for the diversion, because the tension of us all trying to be nicer to each other was almost as bad as the tension of being ignored by them.

In one sense it seemed wrong, offensive even, to dirty these moments with thoughts of JoJo and the Angels, but like it or not, they were stuck there in my head and they werent shifting. And they were easier to deal with than my parents, so I cracked open that mind-closet and out they tumbled, bringing every hint, clue and question with them.

So all the Angels were obsessed with shoes, but that wasnt it. Was it? No, not shoes generally. JoJos missing pink-and-white shoe. But there was something else . . .

Excusing myself, I wandered into the study. I didnt know why I hadnt thought of this before, but I had both Maceys and Seths FB pa.s.swords. As I expected, Seths let me into JoJos page. Quickly finding the post I wanted, I scrolled down. I could remember some of the blackmail list Id read on Seths phone at the cemetery. But I didnt remember anything about a baby. Surely . . .?

By the time Id finished I was leaning back in the chair, deep in thought. That was odd. There was no mention of a baby. Nothing. And yet JoJo seemed so sure that it was important.

Puzzled by something else, I switched to Google and in seconds was looking at the site Id visited earlier with Macey. This time I read more carefully, and suddenly more things were making bizarre sense. JoJo couldnt remember everything because of the trauma and also because she was running out of energy. She needed prompts; but the most interesting thing was that she couldnt create new memories. Anything she remembered was real; it had happened.

So, she hadnt made up the baby thing. Which begged the question: why wasnt it on the list? Okay, there were probably a lot of reasons, but one stood out as the most likely. Or I hoped it did. That reason was pretty simple: whoever had the phone was the same person who was involved in the baby stuff.

And I was betting it was the mother.

I went back to the list. I didnt know these people all that well, but as I read I tried to remember everything Seth had told me about them. And what Id learned at the party and on the yacht.

As I read down, one entry jumped out at me. It was about Kristie. It wasnt anything I didnt know; there were no surprises. But as I read the words, my heart started thumping. Id heard those words before. Those exact words had been uttered by one of the Angels. My mouth dried and I had to force the saliva down my throat.

I could be wrong, but I didnt think so. OMG I knew who had the phone.

My head whirled; snippets of conversations filtered into my brain. Swallowing, I went back to the list again. I needed rea.s.surance. Painful as it was, I tried to relive the scene at the cemetery when the accusations were being hurled right before they turned on me. It wasnt fun, but the exercise helped me to put 'crimes against names and mentally cross them off. Counting off, I guessed about Jade and how her mum had made her money. I knew about Kristie and Davo and Seth. I knew about Pete; so I ticked them all off the list. Seth said Mitch was 'the geek, so it didnt take much to nail him as the hacker. Had I heard that Christian was stressing out about the exams? Could he have been Mitchs customer? Or was I stretching? Zack? I hadnt really heard much about him. Nothing really fitted. Not that it mattered what hed done, I was just really trying to match people up so I could eliminate the 'crimes. Still, I pushed on with my twisted game of Perfect Match. I admit some were guesses, but they were educated guesses. However, as I matched the cryptic clues to the names, I was eventually left with just one person. One name.

One person who wasnt mentioned on the Facebook list.

The same person I knew had uttered the words about Kristie. Information she couldnt have had unless she had the phone. I had her on two fronts. Whod have thought bad grammar would bring someone down?

My mind reeled, there was so much to absorb and dissect. OMG, if it was true, Id solved the whole thing. A sense of awe overcame me, of quiet pride overridden by amazement. Shoot maybe I could be Veronica Mars after all!

But there was still the little issue of proof . . .

I glanced at the door. I hated having to do this on this morning of all mornings. But it had to be done. Back in the kitchen I took a deep breath and cleared my throat. 'Mimi, Dad? Im really sorry, but I have to go out; its important.

I expected a barrage of questions, but they didnt come. Both tried to look happy and both failed. That didnt help and I was shaking slightly as I took the cordless and slipped out onto the deck. Beyond the gla.s.sed railing the waves pounded onto the sand, echoing my own thundering heartbeats as I dialled, but I knew I wasnt going to get out of this h.e.l.lhole by cowering in a corner licking my wounds. I could do this.

'Kristie?

'Willow, I have nothing to say to you. Please dont call me again, do you hear? Youve caused enough trouble . . .

I heard the crack in her voice and jumped in. 'Kristie, please listen. I didnt do any of this and Im begging you to listen to me. When she didnt hang up I rushed on. 'Kristie, I dont have the phone and never have; Ive been set up by someone very clever; cleverer than I thought they were.

I heard her sharp intake of breath. 'What are you saying?

Grateful for the chance to keep talking, I hurried to get it all out. 'I know who has the phone. Im not sure how I can prove it, but Im going to confront her and hope she cracks. But I need to confirm one thing with you, and please, please tell me the truth. I sensed her hesitation. 'Its nothing hard, Kris, I just need you to tell me who you told about that last conversation with JoJo.

'No one! Well, no one other than you and Seth.

'Youre absolutely sure?

'Absolutely . . .

Relief, and rapidly building stress. My emotions roller-coastered between the two. 'Thank you, Kris, and please dont tell anyone that weve spoken. Okay? Ill let you know how I get on. Bye.

I still couldnt exactly place the Rock-a-bye Baby thing, but I knew it fitted in there somewhere. The words rolled around in my head, just as they had when Id been going over the list. And more little snippets kept flashing at me like LED Christmas lights; things I hadnt really noticed before. Like whod b.u.mped into me and knocked my bag when we were getting off the boat at the marina. And all the grabbing hands when my bag was taken at the cemetery. I was sure my mind wasnt playing tricks shed been there, in the thick of things.