Whispering Minds (18 page)

this isn’t ovr

He squealed out of the lot.

Determined, I caught a cab to Clarence’s office. It was already after seven. His light remained on, though the front door was locked. I made my way to the side of the building and noticed Granny’s car in the parking lot. Hope swelled that at least one person had been waiting for me.

I peered into Clarence’s lit window and watched him tidy up for the night. I rehearsed what I’d say, but the more times I practiced my speech, the stronger my doubt grew. Shame overtook me. I couldn’t face Clarence now, not after what I’d done. His light clicked off, and I crouched between the bushes for a second time, hoping the shadows would hide me, even though I knew there would be no hiding in the future. Stealing a car—even one I technically owned—couldn’t turn out well.

I cursed myself for not talking to Clarence earlier. If I had, I wouldn’t be here now. Not in the parking lot and not on the outs with Travis. Apparently, I was more like my parents than I cared to admit, bumbling through life from one day to the next without ever considering the long-term impact.

But I couldn’t turn back the clock now. All I could do was move forward. As soon as Clarence’s headlights disappeared around the corner, I ran to Granny’s car and felt for the magnetic box that held the spare key under the bumper. I’d always mocked her over-cautious behavior—“What’s the point of locking a door in the first place if everyone knows where to find the spare?” She’d shake her head as she replaced the house key on the front step and tell me that someday I’d be thankful for her emergency planning.

With my first auto theft out of the way, I made my way to Collin’s apartment. While my belongings didn’t amount to much, I couldn’t leave my messenger bag there.

Or the turkey hat.
I’d let Clarence down enough and didn’t want to lose his turkey hat to my stupidity.

The windows of Collin’s apartment were dark. Not wanting to attract attention from a chatty tenant, I quietly navigated past the pizza boxes stinking up the hall. Two doors down from Collin’s, I stumbled over a ripped seam in the carpet and smashed into a wall. I prayed nobody would notice over the blaring music. I hated this part of college living and was thankful that Collin’s apartment seemed like another world from the rest of the dumpy complex.

His door was locked. Unlike Granny, Collin didn’t prescribe to the extra key theory. Taking a cue from television, I slipped a bobby pin from my hair and bent it. I slid the end into the lock and jiggled it around. Something popped. I twisted the knob, amazed at how easily I had broken in. Crime, it seemed, didn’t take a whole lot of genius.

I entered the dark apartment and made my way back to Collin’s room. Just seeing the unmade bed made me want to throw up, and anger welled up inside. I sat down at his desk determined to hurt him in some way. Collin spent hours in front of his computer each day, and I doubted very much that our utopian project was the driving force behind this excessive time.

In seconds I bypassed security—again, a skill I didn’t know I possessed, but was thankful for—and scanned the desktop for any info that might pertain to the picture Collin had bragged about to Travis. While copying a dozen promising files onto my flash drive, I rummaged through the desk drawers until I found the computer’s start up disk. I popped it in and wiped the hard drive. When I finished, I nabbed my psychology notebooks from the top of the desk and collected all the flash drives and CDs I could find. These I dumped in my messenger bag.

Turning off the bedroom light, I made my way down the hall. Just as I reached the kitchen, a key scraped in the front door lock.

I backpedalled to Collin’s room. His roommate didn’t worry me, as Braydin usually left for the bar shortly after getting home. On the other hand, the very idea of Collin catching me in his apartment made me tremble uncontrollably.

Footsteps echoed down the hall.

Sweat broke out over my body, the smell of fear oppressive in the small space beside the desk. The acrid burn of smoke filled my lungs, and I knew if I didn’t get out of there, I’d black out.

The bathroom door slammed shut.

Careful to avoid the photo equipment crowding the living room, I ran for the door, only to wind up face to face with that Chrissy girl. I smiled and stepped past her. She was already drunk, her eyes red-rimmed and her lipstick slapped on crookedly. Her shirt fell off her shoulder. I took another step—grabbed Clarence’s hat off the coffee table on the way past—and looked back.

Idiot. Keep going.

But I couldn’t.

I grabbed Chrissy’s hand and tugged her behind me. “Be quiet and come on.”

She hesitated against my pull and looked over her shoulder toward the bathroom.

“Do you want to stay here? With him?” I hissed the words as quietly as I could.
God help me, what am I doing?

She shook her head, listed to the side and fell away from me.

“If you want out, now is your chance. Your only chance, because I’m not coming back.”

The toilet flushed. Water turned on.

“I’m out of here.”

I ran down the hall, hoping she would follow, yet not wanting her to if it meant I’d get caught. The door shut and footsteps sounded in the hall behind me. Down the stairs. Out into the night. I threw my bag in the car. Seconds were all we had left. “Get in.”

She did. Slowly, uncoordinated. I leaned across and pulled her inside. Slammed the door. Above us, in the apartment, Collin’s bedroom light turned on. Good. Braydin probably thought Chrissy was playing hide and seek.

I tromped on the gas, felt the car slide and straightened the wheel. I prayed he would never find her again. “Put your seatbelt on.”

Her fingers fumbled to work the belt.

“Chrissy?” She looked at me with hollow eyes that made me wonder if I even had her name right. “Chrissy?”

This time she nodded.

“Where do you want me to take you?”

The answer came in the form of a sob, long and drawn out, like it started in her stomach and stretched thin into the chilly air of the car. She shook her head and let her tears fall.

Nice job.

One basket case taking care of another.

This should be fun.

I’d had enough of the Dozen. “Shut up.”

Chrissy jerked forward in her seat. Immediately, she ceased crying. Her instant reaction reminded me of my mom’s behavior around my dad. Chrissy was used to being dominated. I reached over and gently touched her arm. “I wasn’t talking to you.”

She sniffled and nodded.

“Behind you is a blanket.” Granny always carried one in her car for emergencies. Even in the heat of summer, a handmade quilt graced the backseat.

Chrissy stared straight ahead, hiccupping softly.

“Chrissy, you’re freezing. Reach behind you and take the quilt from the back seat.”

When she did, I instructed her to cover up with it.

“Do you want to come with me?”

She closed her eyes and let her head fall against the headrest. “Please.”

“No problem.”

Big problem.

I turned the radio on softly and cranked up the heat. “Why don’t you sleep? It will be at least an hour before we get there.”

As we headed out of town, I considered stopping by Trav’s to get my things, but I couldn’t risk it. I had to get to Medville before someone realized Granny’s car was missing. Every headlight made me squirm. By the time I was halfway to Granny’s, sweat soaked my shirt. I pondered calling Clarence and turning myself in to ease my punishment. Before I had the chance, my pocket vibrated.

I eased to the side of the road and pulled out my old, old cell. Two phones ago.

My blood ran cold. How could it be in my pocket? Unknown by me for two whole months?

I didn’t want you to know.

“Luna?”

It’s mine. Ours, really. I took it from you, but like everything in your house, the service is almost out.

I flipped it open to a missed call. After a moment, a voicemail from the phone company flashed across the screen. “If payment is not received by January 2
^nd
, services to this number will be discontinued.”

By rote I punched in Trav’s number.

He answered on the first ring.

“It’s me. What number showed up on your phone just now?” I held my breath, silently willing him not to hang up.

Silence.

“The number, Travis? What number showed up on your screen?” The edge in my voice sent shivers down my own spine.

“Restricted. I wouldn’t have answered otherwise.”

“Don’t hang up.” I couldn’t keep the pleading out of my voice. I hadn’t realized until now just how much I missed him. How much he meant to me. “Say something.”

“Trust me. You don’t want to know what’s on my mind.”

“I’m sorry, Travis. I don’t even know…”

“What don’t you know? What you did? Look on the internet.”

Chapter 24

My anger exploded, louder than expected in the confines of Granny’s car. Chrissy jumped in her sleep, murmured something and settled back down under the blanket.

It’s nothing.

“What did you do, Indie?”

Nothing. Much.

Music played in the background. Bach covering the unrest. I felt the tug of comfort, and the yellow room wavered in my mind.

The realization hit me. Bach’s music lulled me into forgetfulness, something I could ill-afford right now. I pushed against my temples and concentrated on the sky, focusing on the constellations instead of Bach’s soothing melody.

* * *

Rae’s knitting needles clacked.
It isn’t what it seems.

Angel agreeing.
Like people, computers can lie.

Indie?
Einstein put his chemistry notes aside.

Bach’s music swelled, filling the tiny space with angry notes.

Innocent sweetness.
Yes?

Please tell me you didn’t sleep with him.

Little girl giggles. A squeal.

Brutus.
The truth, Indie. Now.

I don’t remember. It wasn’t always me with him. Sometimes it was her.

* * *

Fell’s voice penetrated my fear.
Don’t listen to them. They’re trying to hurt you. Just close your eyes and forget they exist.

I shook my head to clear it and turned on the radio to a hard rock station.

What did I know? Nothing. Not for sure. I was crazy, that’s all. Crazy. Hallucinating. Talking to myself. A mess. A washed up mess. When I looked in the rearview mirror, I saw Chrissy’s face in my own—washed out and tired. Sick from the inside.

I wondered how long I had looked this way. Forever? A week? Two? When had things changed? Really changed? And who had the answers I needed? Who could save me?

Nobody, Gemini.

You must save yourself.

I will save you.

I won’t.

Nobody, but you.

I turned the radio loud enough to cover the voices and accelerated onto the road. By the time I reached Medville, I’d pulled myself together as best I could. Which was good, because as soon as I turned into Granny’s driveway, I knew someone had been there. A soft glow lit up the living room. Scared, but with no other place to go, I left Chrissy sleeping in the car and made my way to the work bench in the garage. After grabbing a hammer, I snuck forward and peered in the glass.

Nothing.

The unlocked door squeaked open and warm air rushed out to greet me. Someone had cranked the heat. Light spilled in from the end of the hall where the living room began. Voices of unseen speakers chattered away.

I crept down the hall and pressed myself against the wall. Canned laughter—a laundry detergent commercial. The television.

But who?

My guts clenched as I peeked around the corner into the empty room. The contents of the coffee table drawers littered the floor. Magazines, pillows and blankets had been tossed about, as had trinkets from the fireplace mantle. I turned off the television and listened for a response, spinning in circles to make sure no one could sneak up behind me.

Quiet emptiness.

I glanced in each room. Each mess mimicked that from the front room, as if every cupboard, closet and drawer had purged itself onto the floor. Scattered piles littered my every step. Nothing smashed, just riffled through.

It wasn’t a break-in so much as a search.

But for what?

Almost as scared of a police investigation as a robber, I pushed forward to make sure the vandals were gone. Granny’s rainy-day, coffee-can cash fund was missing from the freezer. Several small vases from the hall by the bedrooms had disappeared, as had Granny’s jewelry box and the necklace hanger from her closet. Her mink stole and alligator pumps made the growing list of missing items. A porcelain cardinal sat on the desk, the spare key next to it.