Malice (14 page)

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Authors: Amity Hope

BOOK: Malice
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I shrugged. “Sure. Why not.” If I told her no, she’d just pester me about it. Levi was gone, I was sure there was nothing to find. I thought it best to let her quench her curiosity.

I reached past her and pushed the door open. The room was already spotless; the bed made, throw pillows artfully strewn about, the oversized rug vacuumed, decorative trinkets in their rightful places. I turned to Daphne, noting her disappointment. She edged past me. I followed her into the room with Finola close behind.

“Your mom doesn’t waste any time, does she?” Daphne muttered. She placed her hands on her hips as she circled the room. To my surprise she dropped down and peeked under the bed. Finola and I shared an amused glance when she went to the dresser next and pulled open each and every drawer. The small closet was next on her quest. It, too, was empty and she turned to us with a frown.

“Daph,” Finola scolded, “I don’t think you’re going to find anything. You watch too much TV. I’m sure Levi was careful not to leave anything behind.”

I turned to Finola, who I thought was being reasonable until she spoke her last few words.

“You sound like you think he has something to hide. You heard my mom. He’s been planning on checking out for awhile. I just didn’t know.” My gaze swung from Finola to Daphne. “Just what is it you think he did?”

Daphne eased against the dresser, resting gracefully against it. “I know you think I’m being melodramatic, but I’m telling you Sam, there’s something amiss here.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose.

“You know, I hate to say it, but maybe she’s right,” Finola hesitantly said. “I do think it’s odd that this happened after Levi came to town. He spent time with both Jude and Bree. And now they’ve both just disappeared? And maybe I wouldn’t think anything of it, but now that we know Levi left town too, it does seem odd. Don’t you think? Especially since no one remembers even seeing Bree and Jude together. We both know that if they did have a relationship, they had no reason to hide it. So why did they?”

She was right. Yet something still didn’t make sense.

“What, exactly, is it that you think Levi is guilty of? What is it that you think he did? Even if he has something to do with them taking off, they left willingly.”

Finola sighed and turned to Daphne. “She’s right. They did leave willingly.”

Daphne still didn’t look convinced. “I’m not so sure about that. I just wish I had a way to prove it.”

“Are you sure this animosity isn’t just from him rejecting you?” I winced, knowing I shouldn’t have asked but I’d been unable to stop myself. I braced myself for what I thought would be an explosive response.

Instead, she shook her head slowly. “I won’t deny I was interested in him at first. But you’ve heard what people have had to say. He’s rubbed a lot of people the wrong way.”

“She’s right,” Finola agreed. “He has. Including me, and my grandma, and from what Grandma said, just about everyone he talked to has decided they don’t like the guy.”

According to Tristan, Cecily could also be added to that list.

For the first time, I felt a trace of doubt about our former guest.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 14

Shortly after realizing there was nothing incriminating to be found in the Ash Suite, Daphne decided to be on her way. She was probably on the lookout for excitement elsewhere. She took Finola with her.

Magnolia would be home soon and I wanted to talk to Mom before she came back. I padded down the stairs and found Mom in the kitchen. She was stirring an enormous pot of split pea soup. A batch of cheddar biscuits rested on the cooling rack on the counter.

“They didn’t stick around long,” she said as she put the lid back on the pot.

“You know how Daphne is. She doesn’t like to be in one place too long.”

“That girl does like to keep things interesting,” Mom said as she leaned back against the counter. “I have to say, I’m a bit relieved that Mr. Devane has taken his leave.”

“Because of Daphne?”

“Not entirely but yes, that adds to it,” she said evasively.

“Meaning…?”

“Oh, I don’t know. I just don’t think he’s the kind of guy that she should get tangled up with,” Mom said.

I didn’t bother to inform her that Daphne’s crush had ended nearly as quickly as it had begun. That seemed irrelevant at this point. I had other concerns that were more prevalent.

I picked at my fingernail, trying to appear disinterested in the conversation. “Why not?”

I glanced up at Mom and she grimaced.

“I can’t quite pinpoint it, but there’s just something about him.”

I dropped my hand and my eyebrows shot up. So much for pretending I didn’t care. My interest was piqued and there was no way to hide it.

“Something…like what?”

She hesitated as indecision bounced across her features. I decided to try to prod her along. “I’ve heard several people say that he made them uncomfortable.”

She nodded slowly. “I heard the same. Although, I have to say, he was perfectly polite when he was here. However…”

A thunderous look crossed her face and my intuition kicked into overdrive.

“What?” I demanded. “You obviously have something to say.”

“You know I don’t like to gossip about guests,” she murmured.

“Mom. It’s me. It wouldn’t be considered gossip. It’s…work related. Besides, he’s no longer a guest,” I argued.

Her shoulders slumped just a bit and I knew I’d defeated her resolve. She pushed off from the countertop. Her purse was hanging on its usual hook near the backdoor. She took it down and after rummaging around for a few moments, she produced a piece of paper. It was rumpled, as if it had been crumpled up and straightened back out again. She smoothed it out on the countertop.

Turning to me she said, “I found this in his room. It had fallen between the wall and the nightstand.”

“What is it?” I asked as I leaned in for a peek.

“It’s a list.”

“Of what?” I asked as I started to scan.

Her voice was full of tension when she said, “I really wish I knew.”

A quick perusal left me with a frown on my face. “What in the…” I shook my head as I faded off. I was utterly confused. I was also a bit afraid. “What reason could Levi have for this list? And why are Magnolia and Finola on it?”

My mind wandered to the bound book that Levi often carried with him. It had loose pages hanging out of it, more often than not. It looked as if one of those loose pages had gotten away from him.

“That’s what I’d like to know,” Mom said.

I took another look. There were ten names and they all seemed to be vaguely coded.

 

Granite Falls

Magnolia

Derek

Finola?

Bree*

Caleb?

Addison

Alex?

Constance

Riley?

Jude*

 

 

“Mom,” I said in a quivering voice, “other than Magnolia, the rest of these people are my classmates.”

“Are they?” Mom asked softly. “I recognized a few of the names, but not all of them.”

I nodded and with a shaking finger I pointed at Bree and Jude. Most of the names were crossed off. Theirs had stars next to them. The only other name that was not crossed off was my sister’s. There was no star but he had traced her name several times, giving it a bold appearance. As if her name held the most importance.

“Did you know that Bree and Jude disappeared this weekend?” Dread coiled throughout my body. Had Daphne’s suspicions been right all along? “Do you think that’s odd? Especially since Levi took off today?”

Mom gasped. “What do you mean they disappeared?”

“Well, they both left notes. But their friends and families aren’t convinced there wasn’t foul play. Honestly, I thought it was no big deal. Maybe they just wanted some time alone or something. Seeing their names here, marked like this, it kind of makes me question it. Especially since Jude claims they ran off together but neither of their friends were even aware that they were dating.”

“What would Levi want with them?” Her thunderous expression turned positively murderous. “What I would really like to know is why he has
Magnolia’s
name on here. If her name hadn’t been on the list, I probably wouldn’t have given it a second thought. I probably would’ve tossed it.” She paused, clearly lost in thought. “Do you think this has to do with her magic? Could he possibly know that she possesses the power of persuasion?” She shook her head and cut herself off. “No. I’m being ridiculous. I’ve been so worried about her that I’m just being paranoid. I’ve been making myself insane, fretting over this.”

“Mom,” I said softly. She pulled her eyes away from my sister’s name to look at me. I froze with the words clogging my throat.

“Yes?” she finally pressed.

“There’s a possibility he does know.”

Her eyes widened. “What? How? How could he possibly?”

I told her about the piggy back ride. I had no doubt, then or now, that my sister had given him a mental nudge. Had he felt it? Had he been aware?

“Why didn’t you tell me about this immediately?” she asked.

I grimaced. “In part because Magnolia asked me not to.”

“Samara! You know you need to be cautious with Magnolia’s requests.”

“I do know that. I thought I was being cautious. I convinced myself it would only stress you out more. And you’re under enough stress already,” I said softly. And now, I’d probably just inadvertently tripled that stress.

She moved her attention back to the list. “I think that I should probably hand this over to The Council.”

The police department was made up of a mixture of humans and Lamia. But the local council was
our
governing body. The members were strictly Lamia. They dealt with issues magical in nature.

“Could I…,” I cautiously began, “could I possibly have a copy?”

She looked as though she were about to protest but she shrugged. “I suppose if I don’t give you a copy, you’ll just write the names down anyway.” I nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed because she was right. “Very well.” She closed her eyes and waved her hand over the page. When she picked it up, a duplicate copy, minus the rumpling, lay beneath.

“I think I’m going to make a quick stop at Councilwoman Lebeau’s office before I pick Magnolia up,” Mom said. “If I leave right now I can get there before it closes.”

 

~*~*~

 

A knock on my door was quickly followed by a muffled, “Can I come in?”

My heart hop scotched in my chest at the sound of Tristan’s voice and I momentarily froze. Even though we spent a lot of time together, he’d almost never been in my room. I couldn’t imagine why he’d be here now. Or why Mom would’ve let him come upstairs without warning me.

The door creaked open before I had a chance to pull my scattered thoughts together.

“Sammy?” Tristan’s head peeked through the crack in the open door.

“Hey, hi,” I stammered. I was sitting in the middle of my neatly made bed. I held an open scrapbook in my hands. I discreetly tried to stuff it under a pillow.

Mom had asked me not to share the list with anyone until she had word from Councilwoman Lebeau. Mrs. Lebeau had been in a meeting when Mom stopped by. She’d left a message with her secretary. In the meantime I was trying to get the list, and its implications, out of my head.

Until this moment, the scrapbook had provided a good distraction.

“Can I come in?” He didn’t wait for an answer as he let himself in and closed the door behind him. “I miss you Sam. This not talking is driving me crazy.” He made his way over to my bed. Without waiting for an invitation, he lowered himself onto the edge of it. He’d turned so he was seated facing me. I scrambled backward, trying to put some space between us.

Usually talking with Tristan came so naturally. Not now. Now my words felt all tangled up, like they were clogging my throat and I wasn’t sure how to set them free.

“What were you doing?” he asked. He reached for the scrapbook. The edge of it was poking out from the pillow.

“Nothing,” I said. I wanted to reach out and stop him. I didn’t have time. He tugged the book out and in the next breath it rested in his lap.

He began flipping through pages. I wished for a hole to disappear into.

Page after page chronicled our friendship together. The very first picture was one of us on the swing set. It was taken only days after we met. There were pictures of us playing in the yard, eating watermelon, splashing in the ocean. He turned the pages slowly, taking in every photo, as if reliving the memory it represented.

Inexplicably, I felt like crying.

I reached for the pillow I’d unsuccessfully tried to hide the scrapbook under. I hugged it to my stomach. As if it was a security blanket. Or a shield. Hopefully it would hide my emotions better than it had hidden the book.

I waited for him to ask why I was looking at it, or why I’d put it together in the first place. I was mortified that he’d found me with it. Instead of saying anything that would make me feel more uncomfortable, he simply continued to look through it in silence. Every now and then he’d examine a picture more thoroughly, or he’d smile.

My rattling heart finally slowed down when I realized he wasn’t going to put me on the spot. He finally reached the end and slid the book away.

“There’s a lot of good stuff in there,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” I quietly demanded. I was aware that the question was rude. At the moment, I didn’t really care. I wasn’t sure that I wanted him here. Having him this close sent my emotions into a tailspin.

“I came to call a truce.”

“A truce?”

“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry. I completely overreacted the other night. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. The last thing I wanted to do was make you feel bad.” He looked and sounded so sincere. I had no reason not to believe him. That didn’t mean that it made everything okay.

My first instinct was to deny everything. I wanted to tell him he hadn’t hurt my feelings that his words hadn’t been like a wrecking ball to my heart. I was afraid if I did that, he’d argue with me.

I just wanted the conversation over. I was mortified that he wanted to talk about it.

“It’s fine,” I said as I tried to wave him off.

“It’s not,” he insisted. “Do you think maybe we can move past this? I mean I hate that you go out of your way to avoid me.”

I felt my cheeks heat up. I
had
been avoiding him. I didn’t like that he was calling me out on it. For a moment, I wanted to deny that, too. I was sure that would only make things more uncomfortable so I decided to just let it go.

“Sure, we can move past it,” I said. I wasn’t entirely sure what I was agreeing to. Driving him to school again? Having him show up at The Bella Luna whenever he felt like? Did that mean going back to our weekly tutoring schedule? I had no idea.

Another knock on the door felt like my salvation. I jumped up from my bed and hurried over to it. I swung it open and Mom’s eyes widened at the sight of Tristan in my room.

“Sorry,” she said to me. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

“Magnolia let me in,” Tristan said.

That would explain why he’d shown up at my bedroom door without warning.

“It’s nice to see you Tristan.” She turned to me and though she was trying to hide it, I could see the underlying tension. “I’d like to talk to you later. So when Tristan goes—”

“He’s leaving now,” I interrupted.

“Oh?” Mom asked. Her eyes darted to him. I heard him slide off the bed. He didn’t argue. I couldn’t help it. No matter what he said, I wasn’t ready to move past it. Even though I wanted to, my emotions felt too raw and having him in my room was only making it worse.

“Yeah, I guess I should get going,” Tristan said.

Mom gave him a nod before turning to me. “Just come down to my study when you have a chance.” She disappeared from the doorframe.

I pivoted back around to face Tristan, to tell him goodbye.

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