Shadow of a Life (27 page)

“
You’d like him.” I managed
a smile.

“
It sure is bright in here.
Why are all your lights on?”

I blushed. “I was nervous.”

“
Let’s turn some of them
off. If any of your neighbors know that your Dad is out of town,
they’ll wonder why the place is all lit up. If your neighbors come
over, you can bet I won’t be spending the night.”

“
You’re spending the
night?”

“
There’s no way I’m leaving
you here by yourself.”

My night had just become very
interesting. I looked down then and realized I was standing there
in my fuzzy pink pajama pants and an old t-shirt with dancing teddy
bears. My face burned even more. I couldn’t exactly go upstairs and
change without Peter noticing and possibly saying something so I
decided to just stick it out. The damage had already been
done.

It was 10:30, but I was wide awake. I
didn’t know if I would ever be able to sleep again. Together Peter
and I grabbed a pile of blankets and pillows from an upstairs linen
closet and made beds for ourselves in my living room. I took the
couch and Peter, ever the cavalier one, took the floor. We popped a
bowl of popcorn and sat down in front of the TV. There were a
couple of late night comedy talk shows on and we watched them
without much enthusiasm. The last time I remember looking at the
clock it was about 1 a.m. I don’t know which of us fell asleep
first, but I didn’t wake up again until my phone started ringing
and vibrating around five-thirty. I’d never been so glad to hear
Sophia’s voice in my life.

“
Sophia,” I yelled into the
phone. The sudden noise woke Peter and he jumped up and looked
around. I covered the mouthpiece and mouthed happily, “It’s
Sophia.”

“
You’re mighty chipper for
this time in the morning. I figured I’d be leaving a message on
your voicemail.”

“
There hasn’t been a lot of
sleeping going on lately.”

“
How come?”

“
Well, for starters,
Jeremiah and Elsa paid me a visit last night.”

“
Are you
kidding
me?”

“
I wish I was.” I could hear
Nick in the background asking what was wrong. Sophia whispered to
him and then came back on the line.

“
What happened? Are they
still there? What do they want? Why won’t they stop following
me?”

“
One question at a time,
please.”

She paused before answering and
inhaled sharply. “I heard a voice in the background. Are they there
now?” she whispered into the phone.

“
No. That’s
Peter.”

“
Peter’s there this
early?”

“
I was scared to be alone
last night . . . so he stayed with me.”

“
Oh. That was nice, I
guess.”

I couldn’t see Sophia through the
phone but I could sense a sly smile spreading across her face. I’m
sure she patted herself on the back for pulling Peter into the
crazy adventure and successfully getting us together.

“
So, tell me everything that
happened. And please, start at the beginning.”

I related to Sophia everything that
had gone on the night before, starting when I stepped out onto the
widow’s walk by myself after Peter had gone home. She was
understandably upset that Jeremiah and Elsa were passing her
picture around town. Many of our friends had seen Sophia with us
around Marion and we were sure that if Jeremiah and Elsa kept
pushing the subject, someone would eventually finger us. When
Jeremiah and Elsa returned to my house, they would most likely not
be as “friendly” as they had been the first time.

“
Jamie? Nick and I are in
Miami right now. We should be home in a few hours. Is there
somewhere you can go until then so that you’re safe—somewhere with
a lot of people?”

“
Uhh . . . yeah. We’ll find
someplace. Call as soon as you get here.”

“
I will. Be
safe.”

We hung up and I explained
to Peter what the plan was. I wasn’t sure exactly how to proceed
with my morning rituals.
Should I shower
while he’s here?
It might be weird—plus, I
don’t want to go upstairs alone.

I decided instead to change into some
clean clothes and do a quick freshen up in the bathroom. I washed
my face and pulled my hair into a ponytail. I used deodorant and a
little mascara, glad I didn’t have an acne problem because
otherwise I wouldn’t be able to get away with so little makeup.
Finally, I dabbed the smallest of drops of perfume on my wrists and
neck and ran back down the stairs, looking over my shoulder the
entire way. Peter was just coming out of the kitchen, his face
shining as if he had just splashed water on it. Now that the sun
was up, my house didn’t feel quite as scary. I reversed what I’d
done the night before and went around opening curtains and shades.
If our visitors were going to return, I wanted to see them
coming.

It was still early—barely after
six—and I wasn’t sure where we should go. Peter’s stomach was
already growling so we made packets of instant oatmeal for
breakfast, taking it to the front porch to eat. The morning was a
little cool and the air smelled salty from the breeze rolling in
off the ocean. Usually I loved those kinds of mornings. When we
finished our meager breakfast we packed the letters mentioning
Jeremiah and Elsa, the photo of the Goodwin family, and my notebook
into a bag and left my house.

We walked to a nearby park, stopping
at Peter’s house on the way so he could change into some clean
clothes. A lot of people liked to go for morning runs on the park’s
paths and we thought it would be a good place to wait until stores
started opening for business. We’d decide then where to go
next.

I spent the time in the park reading
one of the books I’d checked out from the library more than a week
before. I wanted to lose myself in the story so that my mind would
stop replaying the events of the night before. I offered another
book to Peter, but he opted to lie in the grass and take a nap
instead.

At eight o’clock my phone rang again.
That time it was my dad, checking in with me for the
day.

“
How was your
night?”

“
It was okay,” I
lied.

“
You sound tired. Are you
still in bed?”

I decided I better tell him the truth
since I ran the risk of him hearing background noise. “Actually,
I’m at the park right now.”

“
The park? What in heaven’s
name are you doing at the park this early in the
morning?”

“
I thought it would be a
good idea to get some exercise. A lot of people come here to run or
walk.”

My dad’s side of the phone was quiet
for a moment. “Is someone there with you?”

“
Uhh . . . Peter met me
here. He wanted to exercise, too.” I kicked Peter as he snickered
beside me on the grass. It was a lame excuse and we were definitely
not getting any exercise.

“
Well, okay, I guess,” Dad
said hesitantly. “How was your day yesterday? You mentioned looking
into your family history. Did you end up doing that?”

“
Yeah, I did. Mom told me
where to find some letters written by some of my
great-grandparents. They were kind of interesting. One of the
letters mentioned a mysterious trunk that was locked and the person
who owned it couldn’t open it. It read just like a mystery and you
know I like that, Dad.”

He laughed. “That does sound like
something right up your alley. Maybe it’s the mystery trunk your
Mom inherited from her parents that wouldn’t fit into the
attic.”

“
Huh?”

“
You know, the trunk in my
den.”

“
No, I don’t
know.”

“
You really don’t remember?
When we moved into the house we tried to haul that big old trunk
your mother inherited up to the attic with the rest of her
leftovers, but it was too hard to maneuver it up the spiral
staircase in your room and up into the attic. We put it in the
closet in my den—behind the bookcases.”

“
Do you know what’s in the
trunk?” I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. Peter perked up and
turned toward me with questioning eyes at the mention of the word
“trunk.”

“
Nope. Lillian just
mentioned something about old family stuff. I don’t know that I’ve
ever looked inside it.”

My heart raced. “Dad, would it be okay
if I tried to open it? Mom told me I could go through her stuff.” I
crossed my fingers and closed my eyes tight, hoping he would say
yes, but knowing that if the answer was no I was going to open the
trunk anyway.

“
That’s fine with me and I’m
sure your mom won’t care, either. It will give you something to do
today, but please don’t make a mess of my den.”

“
I won’t, Dad. I promise.” I
grabbed Peter’s hand and squeezed it tight, nodding my head up and
down as I did so. He could only hear my part of the conversation,
but I think he’d gotten the gist of it.

“
I better get going. It
looks like I
will
make it home tomorrow rather than Saturday.”

“
That’s great. I can’t wait
to see you.”

I wasn’t sure if I was ready for Dad
to come home or not. I didn’t like having to explain my odd
behavior to him, but I liked the idea of not being alone at night.
That night, Sophia and Nick would be back and then the next night
Dad would be home.

“
Did your dad just tell you
that he knows where the trunk is?” Peter asked excitedly when I’d
hung up.

“
Yes
,” I squealed. “I knew there was more to that part of the
story. I had a strange feeling about it. The trunk in my dad’s den
has to be the one that belonged to the Goodwins.”

“
Want to go check right
now?”

“
No. I mean, yes, but we
can’t. I promised Sophia we would stay in public view until she got
here. Grrr, this is going to be a long day,” I groaned.

“
We should probably tell
Camille what’s going on.”

I looked at my watch. “You’re right,
but I guarantee she’s not awake yet. Unless we want her to be a
grouch all day, we better wait at least another hour until we
call.”

“
Fine, but now I’m anxious
again. We need to do something to keep my mind busy.”

“
We could actually exercise
like I told my dad.”

“
I don’t want to get all
sweaty—and I’m in flip-flops.”

“
I offered you a book to
read.”

“
Ha. Ha. Ha. Just what I
hoped for,” he said sarcastically.

“
Don’t you ever
read?”

“
Sure, whenever I have to in
order to pass my classes at school.”

“
Really, Peter? That’s just
sad. You can learn so much from books. I thought you liked
history.”

“
I read the National
Geographic. And honestly, I do read an occasional book for fun. I
just don’t know how some people can read a book and, immediately
upon finishing it and closing its cover, open up another one and
begin to read again.”

“
By ‘some people,’ you mean
me.” It was a statement, not a question. I didn’t really take
offense to it, though. It was pretty much the truth—until I met
Sophia.

“
There could be worse
habits, I guess.”

I laughed. “Please don’t tell me
you’re one of those guys who spends all his days playing video
games.”

“
I won’t lie. I do play
video games, but I consider myself to be a well-rounded person. I
already told you I read once in a while. I have a few favorite TV
shows I watch. I get exercise when I’m hanging out with the guys .
. . kicking a soccer ball around, hitting a baseball, throwing a
Frisbee. Oh, and you know I’m great at going down
slides.”

“
How could I forget?” I
laughed.

“
Do you still like to play
sports?”

“
Honestly? Not that much
anymore. I used to be somewhat of a tomboy. Whatever the guys were
playing at recess, I was playing, too. The last few years I haven’t
been as active, I guess. I pretty much get all my exercise from
riding my bike everywhere.”

“
Maybe we should change
that. You can exercise with me this summer.”

“
We might have to get our
exercise running from scary ghosts, you know.”

“
I hope we don’t ever have
to see the ‘scary’ ghosts again,” Peter said, using his fingers to
make the shape of quotation marks.

“
That would be nice, but
Peter—the more I think about it the more I’m convinced that
Jeremiah and Elsa are somehow part of Sophia and Nick’s unfinished
business.”

“
Really? You don’t think it
has anything to do with the
Mary
Celeste
?”

“
Honestly, no. I don’t.
Every lead we’ve tried to follow about that ship has ended in
nothing. We’ve gone over all the known facts a million times and
there’ve been no new revelations. I don’t know for sure yet, but
Sophia most likely even saw the remains of the
Mary Celeste
and she’s still
here.
But
, every
time we found something concerning the Goodwins yesterday, I had
the sensation that we were on the right path. What if her way of
extrication is somehow connected to the ghosts who were her captors
for most of her real life?”