Broken Hearts (15 page)

He froze there in a panic. That was when the police came up the stairs and found him.

Dave swore he was innocent, and after a long investigation, the police had to let him go. No proof. No evidence.

Poor Dave, Melissa thought, remembering his troubled face, his nervous eyes, his trembling chin when he tried to explain it all to her.

Dave couldn't return to a normal life. No one would let him.

Too many people in Shadyside, too many of his own friends, believed that he was a murderer.

First, the cheating incident. Then Josie's murder. Then breaking into the McClains' house. Then the attack on Erica.

Even if the police couldn't prove it, most of the town believed Dave was guilty.

For his sake, Dave's parents moved and sent him away to a boarding school upstate. Dave was gone, but the rumors about him continued.

Melissa hated the way kids talked about Dave. How could they be so sure he was a murderer? Why were they so willing and eager to believe that Dave was guilty?

It all seemed so clear and simple to some kids Melissa knew. Dave had hated Josie. Everyone knew that.

When Josie turned him in for cheating and he got kicked off the wrestling team because of it, he went berserk and killed her. That was the story a lot of people believed.

Then he broke into the McClains' house to get his threatening valentines back. Erica caught him in the act. Dave didn't want her to tell the police about the valentines. So he tried to kill her too.

That was the story some people believed.

And Melissa?

Melissa didn't know what to believe. She knew Dave really well. She'd been dating him for a long time. He trusted her. He confided in her.

Dave had a wild, impulsive side, Melissa knew. And he had an angry side. Sending those threatening valentines was a really dumb, messed-up thing to do.

But Dave wasn't a murderer. Melissa
knew
him. He wasn't a murderer.

Was
he?

Luke walked across the den and put his arms
around Melissa. He didn't say anything. His wool sweater felt scratchy against her cheek.

“Here it is a whole year later,” Melissa said wistfully. “And there are still so many questions, so many unanswered questions.”

“We have to try to put it behind us,” Luke said softly.

“But how?” Melissa demanded.

He let go of her and shrugged. “I don't know.” He lowered his eyes. “I still think about Rachel a lot,” he confessed.

Outside the window the sky darkened as the heavy clouds continued to gather. The shadows on the den carpet lengthened as Melissa gazed at Luke. She suddenly felt as if the darkness was trying to swallow her up.

“I know it was hard for you,” Melissa said softly. “To stop going over there, I mean.”

He nodded solemnly. “It was harder on Rachel,” he replied. “Erica told me it was a real setback for Rachel.” His voice broke. “But what could I do? I had to get on with my life.”

Luke stepped past Melissa and peered out the window, pressing both hands down on the window sill. The gray light glinted in his glasses. His eyes seemed wild, unfocused.

“I don't know
what
I was thinking,” he said, talking to himself as much as to Melissa. “I mean, going over there every day. I guess I thought I was making a big difference in Rachel's life, helping her get better.” He uttered a pained sigh. “It took me so long to realize that Rachel will
never
get better.”

Melissa didn't reply for a long while. The den was blanketed in silence, silence and deepening shadows. A car door slammed somewhere down the block. Two dogs started to bark.

“I've become pretty friendly with Erica,” Melissa said. “I go to visit Rachel every week, and then I stay and talk with Erica. I—I feel so sorry for her.”

“What do you mean?” Luke asked softly, turning to face her.

“Well, it took her so long to recover from that knife wound. And—well—she seems so lonely. The McClains still can't afford a full-time nurse for Rachel, so—”

“Let's change the subject,” Luke said sharply.

“Yeah, good idea,” Melissa quickly agreed. “That was all a year ago. It's over. Done.” She crossed the room to the desk and picked up the stack of mail.

“Do you know about the skating party?” Luke asked. “On Valentine's Day? At Fear Lake?”

“Ice-skating?” she asked, concentrating on the envelopes.

“No, roller-skating on ice,” Luke joked, rolling his eyes.

“Huh? Sorry. I wasn't listening.” Melissa lowered the envelopes and grinned at him. “What were you saying? Roller-skating on ice?”

Luke chuckled. “There's a Valentine's Day party on Fear Lake. A skating party. Do you want to go?”

“Yeah. Okay. Great,” Melissa replied. Her grin faded. “Only, I'm a terrible skater. I spend more time on my butt than on my feet. Weak ankles, I guess.”

“I'll give you some lessons,” Luke promised. He
saw that she had turned her attention back to the mail. “Hey, what's that?”

“Looks like a card. For me,” she replied, pleased. She started to pull the envelope open. “A valentine, I bet. Aren't you a little early, Luke?”

“I didn't send it,” Luke protested, crossing the den with long strides, stepping up behind her to read it over her shoulder.

The front of the card was a bouquet of flowers. Melissa unfolded it and read the handwritten message. She gasped.

Roses are red

Violets are blue,

On Valentine's Day

You'll be dead too.

E
rica stared into the dressing table mirror as she brushed Rachel's long, copper-colored hair. Outside Rachel's bedroom window, the gray clouds were lowering in the late-afternoon sky.

The radiator against the wall hissed noisily, the only sound other than the soft
whoosh
of the hairbrush through Rachel's long hair.

Erica, wearing faded jeans and an oversize gray sweatshirt, studied her sister's face in the mirror. She's so pretty, Erica thought. I wonder if she'll always be this pretty. I wonder if her face will stay as young as her mind.

Lowering her eyes, she noticed that Rachel was hugging something tightly in her hands. “What is that?” she asked her sister, breaking the tranquil silence. “What are you holding?”

Rachel held up the small brown teddy bear. Erica
recognized it at once. It was the teddy bear Luke had given Rachel more than a year ago.

Erica sighed, painful memories flooding back. Glancing at the small calendar on the wall beside Rachel's dressing table, Erica realized it was almost Valentine's Day.

She sighed again and started to brush harder, starting at the crown and pulling the brush down, down through the thick, straight red hair.

“It's just the two of us now, Rachel,” Erica blurted out, thinking aloud.

“What?” Rachel asked, her voice surprisingly cold. “What did you say?” She sounded almost angry.

“Never mind,” Erica muttered.

“Is Luke coming?” Rachel asked.

The question startled Erica momentarily. Rachel hadn't asked for Luke in weeks.

“Is Luke coming?” Rachel repeated impatiently.

“No,” Erica told her softly. “Luke isn't coming anymore, remember? Luke is with Melissa now.”

“I hate Melissa!” Rachel cried, violently pushing the hairbrush away. It flew out of Erica's hand and clattered across the floor.

“Rachel, calm down,” Erica said, going to retrieve the brush.

“I
hate
Melissa! I
hate
Melissa! I
hate
Melissa!” Rachel chanted angrily, screaming more loudly each time.

“Rachel, please!” Erica pleaded. “Don't get worked up. I didn't mean for you to—”

“I
hate
Melissa! I
hate
Melissa!”

Erica cried out as she watched Rachel tear open the teddy bear in a rage. “I
hate
Melissa!” Rachel screamed, pulling handfuls of gray stuffing out of the opening she had ripped in the bear's stomach.

“Stop!” Erica lurched forward and grabbed the teddy bear out of Rachel's hand. There were clumps of stuffing in Rachel's lap. Rachel stopped chanting, but her features remained twisted in rage.

“Let's calm down, okay?” Erica pleaded, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Let me brush your hair, okay, Rachel? Nice and slow. The way you like it?”

“I hate Melissa, and I hate Luke,” Rachel said a little calmer. She stared thoughtfully at her angry reflection in the mirror.

“No, Rachel. It isn't right to hate people,” Erica said softly. “You've got to—”

The phone rang, interrupting her.

She started to the bedroom door. “I'll be right back. I'm just going to answer that,” she told her sister.

Rachel didn't reply. She continued to study herself in the mirror, seeming to be fascinated by her own reflection.

Erica hurried down the hallway to the nearest phone, which was in her bedroom. Even though it was a year later, she was still surprised by the thick, new carpeting in the hall. The old carpet, stained with Erica's blood, had been replaced before she had returned from the hospital.

She felt a stab of pain in her side. It happened every time she walked down the hallway. A reminder. A painful reminder.

“Hello?” She picked up the phone, out of breath.

“Hi, Erica. It's me, Steve.”

Erica gasped in surprise.

Steve Barron? Calling
her?

Why on earth was Steve calling? Erica had barely spoken to him since Josie's death.

“Guess you're surprised to hear from me,” Steve said, reading Erica's thoughts.

“Yeah. Uh—how
are
you?” she asked awkwardly.

“Okay. Good,” he told her. “I've—well—I've been thinking about you. I saw you at school the other day. In the lunch room. And I—well . . .”

Why does he sound so nervous? Erica wondered, listening to him stammer. He always seemed to know the right thing to say around Josie.

“There's an ice-skating party on Fear Lake on the night of Valentine's Day,” Steve said, speaking rapidly without taking a breath. “I thought maybe you might like to—uh—come with me.”

Erica was stunned.

She felt her heart skip a beat.

How weird!
she thought.

Steve Barron asking
me
out! He's a senior, and I'm only a sophomore. Besides, he never looked at me twice when Josie was alive.

“Yes, great,” she replied breathlessly.

“Good,” Steve said, sounding relieved. “The lake is almost completely frozen, so—”

“Oh, wait,” Erica interrupted. She groaned unhappily. “I can't, Steve.”

“Huh?”

“It's a Sunday, right? I can't go out that Sunday night. My mom has to go somewhere, and my dad will be away on a business trip. I promised I'd stay home to take care of Rachel.”

There was a long silence at the other end.

“Oh, wow,” Steve said finally. When he continued, he spoke with genuine concern. “You know, you have to have a life, too, Erica.”

“Tell me about it,” Erica said bitterly.

“No, really,” Steve insisted. “You can't just spend your whole life . . .” His voice trailed off.

“I know, but what can I do?”

“It's going to be a nice party,” Steve continued as if she hadn't said no. “Do you like to skate?”

“Yeah, I haven't done it for a while,” Erica said wistfully.

“Well, maybe you could get someone else to stay with Rachel and—”

“I don't think so,” Erica said, and then added, “Sorry.”

She couldn't tell if Steve was hurt or angry. “Maybe some other time?” Erica asked hopefully.

“Yeah. Okay,” Steve said brusquely. “Take care, okay?” He hung up before she could reply.

How strange, Erica thought, holding on to the receiver.

I never thought Steve even knew I was alive. I was just Josie's kid sister. The pest.

She replaced the receiver, feeling a wave of sadness wash over her. High school was supposed to be such an exciting time, she thought, uttering a loud sigh. But I spend all my time in this creepy, old house, locked
up with Rachel. I've lost all my friends. I have no dates. I can't go out or do anything. I just stay here night after night, brushing Rachel's hair.

Remembering that she had left Rachel alone, Erica turned and stepped out into the hallway. She felt another stab of pain in her side, where the letter opener had injured her.

Ignoring it, she made her way to Rachel's room and hurried inside. “Rachel?”

No reply.

Erica stopped short when she saw that the chair in front of the dressing table was empty.

“Rachel?”

Silence.

Outside the window, the clouds had darkened to an eerie green-charcoal color. The bare trees shivered and shook.