The Edge of the Shadows (5 page)

EIGHT

B
ecca was at her locker at the end of the school day when Hayley Cartwright offered her a ride. Hayley could drop her off anywhere she wanted to go, she said, and she added mentally
Because I want to know if what she said means something
, which was startling in its clarity. Becca had removed the AUD box's ear bud as she often did at the end of the day, in order to practice “those mental on/off buttons, sweet girl,” as her grandmother would have said. The point was to allow the whispers to fade, to make them white noise the way the wind outside your house is white noise. Most of the time, Becca was a total failure at this, and the sounds of everyone's whispers swarmed her.

But through those whispers, Hayley's thoughts had come at Becca so clearly that she knew her face registered her surprise. Hayley said in response, “What?”

Becca said, “It's only that I was just thinking about how I was going to get where I'm going and it's like you read my mind.”

“I wish,” Hayley said. “So. You want a ride?”

“Sure. Yeah.” Becca found the books she needed for her homework, and she went on to say that she'd appreciate the ride because she hadn't brought her bike with her as she normally did when Derric had something going on. So, yeah, she was basically stuck.

They were on their way to the Cartwrights' pickup when they were waylaid by Isis Martin. She wasn't alone but rather had her brother with her. She called out, “Here he is, you guys. I want you to meet Aidan.”

Becca hadn't talked to the boy since she'd run into him at South Whidbey Commons. They shared no classes, and at lunch he avoided everyone, always sitting alone in the corner, either at a table or on the floor. Now, his sister was pulling him across the parking lot. His face was expressionless. He looked like someone who was wearing a mask.

Less than pathetic
appeared to come from one of the two Martins.
Dyed hair how weird
seemed to come from Hayley, as did
hoping to replace Derric . . . no way . . .
which was the limit of what Becca caught since Isis went into conversation full steam ahead.

She said, “
Here
he is,” as they all met near Hayley's truck. “This is Aidan. We're heading up to that hardware place. What's the name, Aidan? I have a list somewhere. Oh, here it is. It was in my statistics book. God, I hate statistics. So we're going to the hardware store and I've got a slew of things Nancy wants. She's our grandam. Nancy Howard. I mentioned her before, right? She hates being called Grandma so we have to call her by her first name. Lord, Aidan,
say
something. Don't be so clueless.”

That San Diego Internet story . . . because if she's looking
made skeleton fingers dance down Becca's spine. Her gaze went to Aidan as if dragged there by a magnetic force. He was watching her with enigmatic eyes. How, she wondered, had he managed to perfect having no expression? She strained to hear something more from his whispers but Isis's thought nonsense was fracturing the inside of Becca's skull.
Please she's got to
 . . .
the only way
 . . .
being friends oh right like that's possible
 . . .
should never have even thought about
 . . .
he liked it and loves me and even now there's no one who can make him
 . . .
I was always there . . . more important than anything
and on and on it went. Becca fumbled for her ear bud, turned up the AUD box volume, and felt soothed by the resulting blast of static.

She said, “Your grandma introduced us.”

“She
did
? Nancy? When? Oh my God! Were
you
the girl he met when he met Seth Darrow? Weird! 'Cause he said . . . well, it doesn't matter. But Aidan, why didn't you tell me you already knew Becca?”

“You didn't give me a chance.” When Aidan finally spoke, it was something of a surprise. There was a weariness underlying the boredom in his voice. He said, “Let's go,” and without a glance in Hayley's direction, he turned and went off the way they'd come.

Isis said, “God, he's
so
rude.”

Then she was gone, off across the parking lot again. Hayley looked at Becca and shrugged. But even with the AUD box plugged in to block the whispers, Becca could tell something was going on with Hayley. She wondered if it was the mention of Seth, Hayley's former boyfriend. Hayley clarified matters when they got into the old pickup with
SMUGGLERS COVE
FARM AND FLOWERS
fading on the doors.

They were on the curving road that would take them from the high school into Langley village. The woods grew right to the edges of this road, and Hayley was taking care to watch for deer. She said to Becca without looking in her direction, “It's got to be Aidan. I was wondering about it, but it's got to be.”

“What?”

“You know how you said she was scared?”

“I did?”

“Yeah. You said Isis was scared.
Is
scared. You said that at lunch.”

Becca looked down at her backpack on the floor of the pickup. She said cautiously, “Oh. I forgot,” and prepared herself to keep from revealing any of the whispers she'd sorted through as Isis was babbling away in the New Commons.

“I wanted to ask you about why you said it. At first I thought, Well, Isis wants us to like her and she's scared that we won't,” Hayley said. “Only, even at lunch it seemed like something more. And I was going to ask you if you thought the same thing. Like . . . if you thought something going on with her because of what you said. Only . . . now I think it's Aidan.”

Becca glanced at Hayley. She drove with hands at two o'clock and ten o'clock, and she never took her eyes off the road, which made Becca feel safe with her. But she didn't trust “safe with her.” She couldn't afford to. So she drew from her own experience and said, “Coming here to the island when you're not, say, a baby? It's way hard. Everyone's known everyone else from pre-school. It's a freak-out having to try to make friends because people all seem to be already in fixed groups.”

Hayley glanced at her, then. “You did okay. You're doing okay.”

“On the outside, maybe. On the inside? Not so much.”

“You've got Derric and Seth. You've got Jenn. You know me, not as good as you know them, but you still know me and here we are in the truck together and it's not like I'm freaking you out, am I?”

Becca smiled. The last thing Hayley Cartwright would be able to do was freak anyone out. She was way too nice. And Becca, too, felt something flowing from Isis Martin. It
seemed
to be fear but she didn't know of what. She said, “Why Aidan?”

“What? Oh. You mean why do I think whatever's going on with Isis has to do with Aidan? I didn't at first. But at lunch today . . . how she tried to get him out of the New Commons? And then just now? I mean, wow, are they completely different from each other or what? And here's something else: Where're their parents? She talks and talks but so far she hasn't said word one about her mom and dad.”

Becca didn't want to go near that subject since the last thing she ever wanted to do was to talk about her own parents. But the thought of her own unwillingness to speak of her mom and stepfather prompted her to consider Hayley's words in a way she might not have done otherwise. Even the whispers that came at her from Isis and her brother had nothing to do with parents, which was odd.

She said, “I dunno, Hayley. She'll probably tell you what's going on eventually. When you talk about your family, she'll probably talk about hers, too. And if something's going on with her family that's making her act sort of strange . . .” Becca's voice faded as she saw the immediate change in Hayley. She'd said something to affect the other girl. But she didn't know what it was. She loosened the ear bud casually so that it dropped onto her shoulder, away from Hayley's view. Immediately she heard
after the walker
 . . .
the worse it gets and when there's a wheelchair
 . . .
got to deal with that because no way can Mom
 . . .
and now with Brooke being such a pill
 . . .
I don't care I don't care only don't lie Hayley because you do and you know it
 . . .
shut up shut up shut up
.

Becca was startled with the ferocity of Hayley's thoughts, all of them running beneath the pleasant exterior of the girl. Slowly, she returned the ear bud to her ear.

What she knew at the end of their conversation was pretty simple, as things turned out. If something was going on with Isis and Aidan Martin, something was going on with Hayley Cartwright, too.

NINE

D
erric and his Little Brother came out of the Cliff Motel just as Becca left Hayley's pickup. The Little Brother lived at the Cliff, not in one of the motel's rooms but in the apartment behind and above the office. His dad was in prison, his mother was long gone to meth addiction, and Josh and his little sister, Chloe, were being raised by their grandmother, who owned the place.

Both of the children knew Becca, as did their grandmother. For along with her grandkids, she'd taken in Becca as well when she'd first ridden her bike into Langley, wondering what she was going to do when her mom's plans for her fell apart in an instant.

Josh yelled, “Hey! Hi, Becca! Me 'n' Derric's going for a hike. He's takin me to th' institute.
Whidbey
Institute. Up in th' woods. You ever been there?”

At this, Derric saw Becca as well. He gave her a grin and strolled over to her. Josh accompanied him, darting around at his side. He punched the air and scuffed his feet and said, “There's
tons
of trails, Derric said.
An'
he said we can't get lost 'cause he's got a map only we've got compasses, too, so we're not using the map at
all
. We have it just in case.”

Derric said, “Think we should invite Becca, Josh?”

“Becca? No way. She's a girl. Bleagh. This's for
guys
. Anyways, she c'n play Barbies with Chloe.”

“Way cool,” Becca said. “I
love
Barbies.” She exchanged a look with Derric and added, “Among other things,” and stepped up to kiss him. Derric's arms went around her, and he made the kiss last.

“Yuck!” Josh shouted. “Gross! Stop it! Come
on
, you guys. We got to
go
.”

“That's telling them, Josh,” a man's voice said from the other side of the street. “Break it up, you two. Come up for air. You're out in public.”

The tone was jovial. It was also highly recognizable. While they were kissing, Derric's dad had pulled his sheriff's car into the front parking lot of the arts center. He'd got out and he stood there at the edge of the lot. He was watching them, his arms folded across his chest and his head shaking in one of those kids-will-be-kids kinds of movements.

It was odd that Dave Mathieson would be in Langley. As the undersheriff of the county, he had his office twenty-eight miles to the north in the county seat, which was the old Victorian town of Coupeville. Langley had its own tiny police department to handle the routine problems in the village, so if he'd come to town, it was an indication that something was going on.

“Whatcha doing here, Dad?” Derric asked his father.

Dave crossed the street to join them. He gave Becca an arm-around-the-shoulders hug. He made much of shaking Josh's little hand. He said, “Djangofest.”

As an answer, it was totally inadequate, but then the fire chief's SUV pulled into the parking lot and stopped right next to the sheriff's car. The fire chief called out, “See you inside?” to Dave Mathieson, which put the upcoming music festival and fire together.

“Might be a firebug around,” the undersheriff clarified. “Those early fires could've been carelessness. But after the fairgrounds fire, we're looking at how to protect all of the Djangofest venues. Setting a fire in the middle of a concert? That'd be a real thrill for a firebug if that's what we've got going here.” He looked down at Josh, who was listening, wide-eyed. He said, “You don't mess with matches, do you, kiddo?”

Josh shook his head solemnly. “Grammer would smack me a good one.”

At that point, Dave Mathieson should have gone off to his meeting, but he didn't. Instead, he asked the boys what they were going to do together on this fine day and when Derric mentioned the hike, he told them to skedaddle while the light in the forest around Whidbey Institute was still good. Then he gave Becca a glance that seemed rich with meaning. She decided to stay where she was in case he wanted to tell her what was up.

Derric and Josh drove off with a wave. Derric yelled, “Call you tonight, babe,” at Becca and then they were gone.

Dave said, “He thinks the world of you.”

Becca said in return, “Feeling's totally mutual.”

Dave Mathieson was silent at that, as if tossing this around in his mind. Becca wondered if he was worried about Derric and her the way parents worried when their kids got involved with each other. It was pretty much a universal worry: boys, girls, hormones, and sex.

She wanted to pull the ear bud from her ear in order to catch what was on Dave's mind. She managed to do this surreptitiously. What she heard made the breath catch in her chest.

A single word only.
Rejoice
. This was followed at once by
wonder if she knows
 . . .
betraying . . . finding out could mean all the difference
 . . .

Becca wanted to jump in and say
something
to get Dave Mathieson to reveal everything that was coursing through his mind. But she couldn't think of a single thing to say to effect this, so she forced a smile and referred to the subject that Dave himself had brought up. “He's the greatest guy, Sheriff Mathieson. But c'n I say something?”

Dave seemed to rouse himself. “Sure,” he told her.

“You got nothing to worry about with me and Derric. You know.”

He gazed at her, as if evaluating this. Then he said the unthinkable. “Becca, let me ask you this. Has Derric ever mentioned someone called Rejoice?”

• • •

BECCA WAS COMPLETELY
unready for a frontal assault. She bought time with, “Rejoice? Is that really someone's name?” to which Dave Mathieson said, “It's a girl from Uganda. From the same orphanage where my wife met Derric. He's . . .” Dave looked off in the direction that Derric had taken in his Forester. He frowned as if considering how much to say.
Don't want to mess up what the boy has going
suggested to Becca that Dave's hesitation had a lot to do with her own relationship with Derric. This pleased her since it indicated that he didn't want to cause a problem between them, especially a problem having to do with another girl. “He's been writing to her since he first came here, letters that he's never sent. It feels like . . .”
In confidence now
 . . .
from the past like a crush so it doesn't mean
 . . .
and yet unfinished business
 . . .

Becca tried to sound thoughtful. “Could it be . . . like, a journal or something? Like there's no real person at all? 'Cause it's sort of odd, isn't it? First of all, the name's kind of a non-name. And then writing letters but not sending them? If she was real, wouldn't he just've asked you to mail 'em?”

Dave considered this. “There's that,” he admitted. “But . . . well . . .”
Always holds back
 . . .
if there's a way for a breakthrough
 . . .
dad and son trust and he can trust me I swear it
 . . .

Becca furrowed her brow. She
thought
she got it and what she got was that Derric wasn't hiding the truth about Rejoice nearly as well as he thought he was. She said, “He's never said anything to me about a Rejoice, Sheriff Mathieson. And . . . well . . . I kind of think he would.”

Still he gazed at her steadily. That he was trying to read her for truth or lie was something Becca could tell even without his whispers. He wouldn't be able to read the truth from her, though. She'd been on Whidbey Island for just a year, and her biggest accomplishment so far had been perfecting her ability to lie with an innocent expression on her face.

He said with a sigh that sounded relieved but could have meant anything, “Okay, then. Can we keep it between us that I asked you about her?”

“About Rejoice? Sure,” Becca said.

• • •

THE TRUTH WAS
that Becca knew all about Rejoice. The truth was that Rejoice was Derric's sister. The truth was that he'd never told anyone at the Ugandan orphanage that among the children with him whom they'd picked up off the street in Kampala was a two-year-old girl who didn't remember that the boy sharing the cardboard cartons in the alley in which they'd been discovered was her older brother. That Becca knew all this was purest chance. For she was the person who'd found the letters that Derric had written to his sister and hidden from the world, along with his shame at having kept their very relationship his most closely guarded secret.

Becca could have told Derric's father all of this. But aside from wishing not ever to betray Derric, she also believed that the story of Rejoice had to come from Derric and not from her. He wasn't ready to do that. That was how the situation had to stay for now.

Or so it seemed until she caught sight of an older woman in a baseball cap walking an elegant standard black poodle along Cascade Street in her direction. This was Diana Kinsale, the first adult Becca had met on Whidbey and the only person whose whispers Becca had never been able to hear, unless Diana
wanted
them heard.

Becca set off to meet her. The woman and the poodle were taking their time, with lots of stops so that Diana could admire the Cascade Mountains, the jagged range clearly visible from the top of the bluff along which the street ran. They rose far in the distance across the water and beyond the city of Everett, whose port buildings caught the sunlight of the late afternoon.

As Becca approached the woman and dog, Diana went to one of the benches along the bluff and sank down onto it. She bent to caress Oscar's floppy ears. The poodle leaned into her in his usual fashion. Diana pressed her head to the top of his. This, too, he accepted without stirring from her knees. It came to Becca that something wasn't quite right.

She called out, “Where's the rest of the pack?” referring to Diana's other four dogs.

Diana turned. She tilted her baseball cap back and exposed her face. Becca felt a shiver. Diana looked unwell.

“Becca,” the older woman said in greeting. She patted the bench. “Join me. Oscar's had his teeth cleaned today, and I'm giving him a bit of exercise before home. Well, I
was
until the view got my attention. How are you? We haven't seen you in ages.”

By
we
she meant herself and her dogs. When Becca had lived in the Cliff Motel and even when she'd lived in the tree house in Ralph Darrow's woods, she'd been a regular visitor to Diana's house outside of Langley.

Becca sat beside her. She'd always taken great comfort from being in Diana's presence, and today was no different. Diana put her arm around Becca's shoulders in a hug that stayed just where it was, and what Becca felt was what she always felt from Diana. An incredible sense of peace and warmth came over her.

“How's school?” Diana asked her. “How's life at Ralph's? How's Derric?”

“Fine, fine, and fine,” Becca said simply. Then she caught Diana inspecting her. Diana read things in people and this reading, Becca believed, came from touch. So did the comfort that she was able to provide them. Allow Diana to touch you and your troubles weren't gone, but how you felt about those troubles was altered forever. Becca said, “Really, Mrs. Kinsale.”

“As to Derric . . . ?”

“It's nothing. Just something his dad asked me.”

“
About
Derric?”

God, she got to the meat of things fast. Becca bent to pet Oscar. He accepted the affection. Since he was a poodle, he wasn't inclined to do much more than blink at her and move his tail languidly to indicate his willingness to allow her a further show of devotion. Like his mistress, he gazed at the view. A few gulls flew over them. Two majestic bald eagles sailed by on the lookout for food. Far out in the water, a ripple suggested the presence of a seal.

“Wow,” Becca said in reaction to all of this.

“Heavenly, isn't it?” Diana replied. And then she said, “Are you avoiding it?”

Becca knew exactly what she meant. Diana had picked up on her indecision. She meant was Becca avoiding the subject of Derric and his father? The answer was yes.

She said to Diana, “It's a loyalty thing.”

“Loyalty to Derric?”

“I know something. His dad asked me about it.”

“I take it you said nothing.”

“That's about it. It's not illegal or anything. It's just something private.”

“Between you and Derric?”

“Yeah.”

“Ah. Parents worry, you know.”

Becca felt herself getting hot. “It's not
that
. Just something personal about Derric that his dad wants to know and it didn't feel right for me to tell him.”

“Because of what he might do?”

“Because of how he might feel.”

Diana shot her a look. “Are you thinking you can control how people feel?”

“I'm thinking how Derric feels is more important to me than how his dad feels. What I also think is he should tell his dad and tell his mom but he doesn't want to, so it's not up to me to do the telling for him. I didn't like lying to the sheriff, though.”

Diana turned from reading her face. She said, “Trust.”

“What?”

“I think trust is the next step for you.” And then Diana added meditatively, “Could be it's the next step for everyone.”

“Next step where?”

“Next step on life's journey.”

Becca scowled. “You're doing that Yoda thing again, Mrs. Kinsale,” she told her in warning. “Next you'll start sounding like a fortune cookie.”

Diana laughed. “There are worse things,” she told her. “I quite like fortune cookies.”