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"So the test went well, then," Delia said, placing a bowl of mashed potatoes in front of me. She'd made a small chicken in the slow cooker, surrounded by vegetables, and it smelled unbelievable.
"I guess. I didn't find anything about Eliza, except that a long time ago he had a secret crush on her. But then, I'm sure so do most of the guys in school. Some of the girls, too. And some teachers."
"She is a pretty girl." Delia placed a couple of juicy chicken slices onto my plate.
"Not so pretty inside, though," I said, and then wished I hadn't. It didn't seem right, saying negative things about a missing girl.
"Really? Or is that a bit of envy talking?" She eyed me as she slid the plate to me.
I shrugged. "Maybe a little. I'll never be that pretty or popular. But she seemed...all wrapped up in herself and her friends. I don't think she cares about other people all that much."
Delia sat in her chair and pulled it forward. "You are plenty pretty, Lorelei. You don't need to be popular. You don't need that kind of attention." She cut a bit of chicken and chewed it thoughtfully. "I think Eliza may outgrow the self-centered trait. She's still young."
If she were ever found. Alive.
I shuddered inwardly.
"I guess."
We ate in silence for a few minutes. I wondered whether I should tell Delia about Mick's death wish for his father.
"Spit it out, Lorelei," she said. "Not the chicken. I mean whatever it is you're not telling me."
"Mick wishes his father dead," I said slowly.
Delia looked at me, frowning. "Really? Did you find out why?"
I shook my head. "No. It freaked me out so much I just withdrew from his mind."
"I don't blame you. Strange. His father seems like a nice man. He does so much for the youth in this town. He and Mick work the soup kitchen each holiday. But then, we don't know what goes on behind closed doors."
"Delia, do you have any...talents of your own?"
Delia looked up from her mashed potatoes, her face surprised. "Why do you ask that?"
"I've just always had a feeling that you do have your own gifts but you never use them."
She slowly moved her fork around her potatoes. "I can find the dead, Lorelei."
I blinked at her. "You can?"
"Yes. I hear whispering when the body of a deceased person is near."
Whispering. Like the child I heard whisper in my ear. I watched her, my eyes wide with shock. "Delia, you didn't hear whispering yesterday in the woods, when we were searching for Eliza?"
She paused. "I heard whispering but not for Eliza."
"Who was the whispering for?"
She shook her head sadly. "A child, I think. No. I'm sure. It was a child. But she died decades ago."
I stared at her, feeling like a goose had walked over my grave.
"Delia," I began. "I heard her, too."
Tapping. The sound of intermittent tapping penetrated my sleep. Even in the midst of a fog-like dream, I was trying to make sense of the sound. In the dream I floated up and glided toward the window, lifting the filmy curtain to one side.
Someone hovered on the other side of it. I almost didn't notice her there, because she wore her normal garb. Black clothes. Black combat boots. She was dressed the way she had been the last time I'd seen her. Black mini-skirt, torn black stockings. Black t-shirt under a black leather jacket. I looked down, my forehead touching the window gla.s.s, to see the toes of her boots barely sc.r.a.ping against the brick below the windowpane.
Kerry, you'll ruin your boots.
Yeah. And these are real leather, too. Sucks. Her voice was soft in my head, like a memory.
What are you doing out there? I looked at her face, so pale it seemed to hold a bluish hue.
She looked at me sadly and gave me a closed-lipped smile. Be careful, Lorelei.
Where have you been? I asked her.
But she was floating backward now, the fingers of one hand moving in a farewell motion.
Kerry. Wait.
And another tap sounded. And another.
I opened my eyes, my heart thudding against my chest. The tapping was something hitting the window gla.s.s. I blinked the dream away, but felt an intense sense of deja vu as it faded.
Another tap against the window.
I slowly pulled the thick quilt back and swung my feet onto the cold hardwood floor. As I walked toward the window, I felt goose b.u.mps lift on my skin.
Tap. Pause. Tap. Pause.
Holy s.h.i.t. Please don't be Kerry, dead. Please, please, please...
I reached out and lifted the curtain with trembling fingers.
Nothing. Blackness beyond the large old maple tree out front.
Tap.
I jumped, stepped forward and looked down, my forehead pressing against the cold gla.s.s.
Mick stood on the ground, waving at me, his dark curls lifting in the wind. He looked up at me, his face made pale under the moonlight.
I lifted the window, the autumn chill hitting me in the face like a brick. "What are you doing down there?"
"I need to talk to you." His whisper was almost carried away by the wind.
"Now?"
He nodded. "Right now."
I hesitated, watched him for a moment. He stood still, looking up at me, his hands shoved into the pockets of his windbreaker.
I sighed and closed the window, getting out of the flannel pajamas I wore and pulling on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. I wore thick socks to bed because my feet get cold easily, so I only had to slip my feet into my slipper booties.
Grabbing a hoodie from where I'd thrown it earlier, I made my way quietly down the stairs and out the front door, closing it gently behind me.
The hysterical thought that Mick might be the one who had abducted Eliza flashed through my mind. What if I vanished next? Delia would get up and I wouldn't come out of my room because I wouldn't be there. I'd have simply disappeared.
I pushed my arms through the hoodie, wrapped my arms around myself and stood on the front steps, hesitant to move from them.
Mick approached me with his head down, watching the ground.
Bad news.
"What is it?" I asked him, my throat tight around the words.
He looked up at me, his face still tilted downward. "Kerry is missing."
I gaped at him. "What?"
"She never made it to the group home after we saw her yesterday."
"Do you think she ran away?"
He shook his head. "No way. She would've taken her stuff. She didn't have much, but what she had she was pretty possessive of. She meant to go back. She just didn't make it back there."
I felt panic blooming in me and took a deep breath, wrapping my arms more tightly around myself. "Oh, my G.o.d."
"Lorelei..."
"I know."
"I think-"
"I know."
Whoever took Eliza had taken Kerry. Now they were both gone.
Chapter Six.
Now there were two girls missing.
I went back to bed but didn't sleep. The memory of Kerry walking away from us yesterday kept running through my mind. I replayed it over and over, trying to remember who else was in the parking lot at the time. Who was coming out of the diner? Neither Mick nor I could remember. We'd been too freaked out by Kerry's anger and suspicion of us.
Had someone followed her out of the diner parking lot?
We'd watched Kerry walk across the street and enter the cemetery that a lot of kids cut through as a shortcut. Once she'd disappeared from our view, Mick and I left the parking lot and drove away. We thought that after she cooled off and had some time to think she'd be okay.
We were wrong.
"Jesus, Sheriff Will was sitting right in the diner. Whoever did it is pretty b.a.l.l.sy." I still couldn't believe it.
"The police aren't convinced that Kerry didn't run away," Mick said, sipping on his hot chocolate.
We sat at the diner again. The same table. It seemed like a good place to hang out. n.o.body bothered us. And I felt better knowing there were other people around. The fact that two girls had vanished in just a few days was leaving me nervous and jumpy. I didn't trust anybody.
"Because of her history?" I asked him.
Mick nodded. "She'd run away from home, and even foster homes, before."
"But not the group home?"
He shook his head. "Not so far. I think she likes it there."
"I think she likes you," I said, grinning. "Judging by the way she acted yesterday."
He shrugged, blushing. "Maybe. But I don't feel that way about her." His hazel gaze met mine.
I felt myself flush and looked down at the table, busying myself with my cocoa.
"Lorelei." His voice was edged with worry.
I looked up at his face and felt my heart speed up. I liked the way he said my name, and the way he looked at me. "Yeah?"
"Don't go anywhere alone, okay?"
I nodded. "I won't."
"Seriously," he said. "You have my cell number. Call me if you need or want to go somewhere and I'll come with you. At least until whoever is stealing the girls from our town is found."
Stealing the girls.
He was right. That's what was happening. A chill walked up and down my spine. I looked out the diner window at the cemetery beyond the road-the last place Kerry was seen. I'd always found cemeteries peaceful places. I'd sat against tombstones just to relax and quiet the chaos in my mind. No one had ever bothered me. It isn't the dead you have to worry about, Wentworth once told me, it's the living.
But the cemetery was the last place Kerry was seen. Looking at the tombstones now gave me an eerie feeling.
"Was someone waiting for her in there?" I murmured, more to myself than to Mick.