Clarity (17 page)

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Authors: Kim Harrington

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Social Issues, #Dating & Sex

BOOK: Clarity
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A look came over his face. Was it pity? “Sure, follow me.”

I nearly had to run down the hallway to keep up with his long strides. He was silent during our short walk, so I took in the surroundings. A flickering fluorescent light in the ceiling. A cigarette burn on the vinyl floor. The gray walls that begged for a paint job.

Detective Toscano stopped abruptly, and I nearly bumped into his back. “You’ve got two minutes,” he said, and opened the door.

Perry jumped in his seat at the sound of the door slamming open, but his panic eased when he saw me. I tried to smile, but he’d know it was fake anyway. I didn’t know if I was allowed to hug him or not. It all felt so surreal, like we were the victims of an elaborate prank.

I wish.

I sat in the chair opposite him and folded my hands on the table. “Are you all right?”

He shrugged.

“They treating you okay?”

“Yeah. They haven’t done much. Gave me a soda.”

“You weren’t questioned?”

“I think they’re waiting on a lawyer.”

“Mr. Spellman must have told them,” I said. “The Spellmans’ lawyer is going to represent you. He’s on his way here. They’ll probably start questioning you when he gets here.”

He nodded, staring down at his hands. His face was a sickly shade of green. I figured there was a fifty-fifty chance he’d vomit all over the table.

“It’s going to be fine, Perry.”

“You don’t know that,” he whispered.

“You didn’t do this, right?” I asked, trying to keep the quiver out of my voice.

“No.” He looked me dead in the eyes. “I didn’t.”

I pushed any doubts I had away and focused on helping my brother. I grabbed his hands. “They can’t charge you if you didn’t do it.”

“Sure they can. It happens all the time.”

“Only in movies and mystery novels,” I said, knowing that wasn’t completely true.

Perry didn’t reply, just stared down, his spirit broken. I strained to think of something else to say, but the words eluded me, so I squeezed his hands tighter. We sat there,
holding hands in silence, until Detective Toscano returned and told me my time was up.

He led me back to the waiting area. Gabriel was gone. A dignified, gray-haired man in a suit was talking in low tones to my mother, who looked horrified.

“What is it?” I said, hurrying up to them.

The man looked at me quizzically.

Mom said, “This is my daughter, Clarity.” Then she turned to me, “This is Mr. Nelson, Perry’s lawyer.”

“Nice to meet you,” I said, though I really wanted to skip the pleasantries and find out what was going on.

“There’s a problem,” Mom said. “When they executed the search warrant they found something.”

“The murder weapon? It must have been planted! There’s no way —”

“No, not the weapon,” Mr. Nelson said. He stood stiffly and spoke in a soft, yet authoritative voice. “They found the security tape from the restaurant parking lot. The one that shows your brother leaving with the victim the night she was killed.”

The tape that was stolen. Stupid Perry! “He probably took it so they wouldn’t see him with Victoria and think he did it,” I said. “He
didn’t
do it, though.”

“An action like that adds to the pile of circumstantial evidence that he says did. Taking that tape and hiding it shows a purposeful attempt to cover something up.” He sighed. “I wish he hadn’t done that. It’s going to make this much more difficult.”

“I need to see that tape. The real killer might be on there.”

“Clarity,” he said, “according to the police, the real killer is already in custody.”

The lawyer kept repeating that there was nothing we could do and told us to leave. He’d call when the police had reached a decision whether to arrest Perry or let him go home. It would most likely be several hours.

Mom went home, but I couldn’t go back there. I imagined myself pacing the hall and listening to my mother’s imminent breakdown. Instead, I headed to the one place that could calm my nerves. The beach.

I realized from the sun’s position in the sky that it was the afternoon and I hadn’t eaten lunch. But I wasn’t the slightest bit hungry. I held my sandals and walked barefoot on the warm sand, avoiding areas dense with people. I didn’t want to risk seeing anyone from school. Word about Perry was probably spreading like an STD.

I cut a path toward the water, intending to let the waves lap at my feet. But instead, I stopped. I came upon a sight that, days ago, would have filled me with butterflies. Gabriel was only a few feet away, in front of me, sitting on the sand. He had on cargo shorts. His shirt was off, tossed to the side. His back was tan and muscled. As he stared out at the sea, I wished I had my mother’s gift so I could read his mind.

As if he could read mine, he turned around.

“Hey,” he said, standing. He brushed the sand off his shorts. His taut chest was a welcome sight, but even that couldn’t make me smile.

Confused feelings rushed at me. My physical attraction to him was so strong, but my mind held back my heart. He didn’t believe in me or my family. He scorned me for my gift, and he wouldn’t even tell me why. Why did he care if I was psychic? Did that change the kind of person I was?

I could see the conflict on his face, too. He hated what my family did for a living. He probably believed my brother was a killer.

But he had feelings for me. I knew it. I saw it in his eyes.

He opened his arms. I ignored the part of me that wanted to push him away. I needed someone right now. I needed support. And he was here, offering it. I rushed into him and wrapped my arms around him, letting his heat envelop me. He hugged me, tight and warm.

“I’m so worried about him,” I said.

“I understand,” he whispered, as he ran his hands through my hair.

“I love Perry more than anything in the world.”

“I know,” Gabriel said. “I know what it’s like.”

His hands came to rest on my chin, turning my face up to look at him. He gazed into my eyes for a long moment.

A lump of frustration stuck in my throat. His touch was tantalizing and I wished that I didn’t enjoy it so much. Wished that I didn’t want more from this guy who clearly disliked part of who I was.

I could see the struggle in his eyes. Stick to his convictions? Or give in to his feelings?

My heart pounded harder than the surf behind us.

Finally, he spoke. “I’m tired of trying to hate you.”

Then he leaned in and kissed me.

I surrendered my head to my heart and let myself go. I was tired of fighting the attraction, worrying about my pride. I returned his kiss eagerly. I lost myself in the taste of his mouth and the feeling of his hands cupping my face. I was swept away in the moment, as wave after wave crashed onto the shore behind us.

I eventually had to break away to breathe. I pulled back to look at him, my hands trailing up his arms and onto his biceps. I turned my head to the side as he laid a trail of kisses down my neck.

Something caught my eye.

His tattoo.

I could see it a bit now. It was a word, written in cursive. Probably a name. Part of me didn’t want to read it. If it was a girl, someone he had loved and left behind in New York, I’d feel insanely jealous, even though I had no right to. Curiosity got the better of me, though.

I tilted my head further. I silently prayed,
Please let it say Mom. Please say Mom. Please say Mom.

It was a name, in flowery, feminine letters.

Not Mom.

Victoria.

TWENTY

BEFORE I COULD SCREAM, SOMEONE ELSE DID.

I broke away from Gabriel and stumbled back a few steps. He didn’t notice my distress over his tattoo. His eyes were elsewhere.

A ways down the beach, a woman was screaming hysterically. A small crowd had gathered in the area, circling around something. Gabriel took off, and I ran after him. As we got closer, the woman stopped screaming and fainted into a man’s arms. The circle of people grew, amid gasps and exclamations.

I didn’t want to see what they were looking at. It couldn’t be anything good. My worst fear was that it was a baby dolphin, beached and dying. I couldn’t watch that. I skidded to a stop in the sand, but Gabriel grabbed my hand and pulled me forward between two people in the crowd, until we saw what lay on the shore.

It wasn’t a dolphin.

Worse. It was a person.

My mind screamed at myself to turn away, look away, run away, but my muscles wouldn’t comply. I could only stare. It
was a female, her face covered in seaweed. She wore jean shorts and a T-shirt. Where her skin showed, her body was discolored and bloated.

I needed to know who she was. While everyone else stood and stared, I knelt onto the sand and reached forward to slide the seaweed off her face.

I’m sitting on the beach, staring at the black expanse of the ocean. It must be the middle of the night because it’s dark and deserted. But I sense movement. I turn around and see a shadow. Someone’s coming toward me.

“Hello,” I call out.

Whoever it is doesn’t answer, but speeds up, coming at me with determination. I’m suddenly scared. A trickle of sweat slips down my back.

My instincts kick in. I leap up and run for the boardwalk. I risk a glance over my shoulder. The shadow is charging after me. Getting closer. The stairs are too far away; I’ll never make it. I dash under the boardwalk, hoping to become invisible in the darkness.

The shadow enters. I creep farther down. It’s like a sick game of hide-and-seek. My breathing is harsh and ragged. It’s too loud; it’s going to give me away. I try to hold my breath, but I’m too terrified.

After a few moments, I glance left and right, but can’t find the shadow. Did the person give up? I start to feel like it’s over, and then arms grab me from behind, hands wrap around my neck. I can’t breathe —

“Clare!”

I opened my eyes to find Gabriel dragging me backward,
away from the body. He dropped me on the sand and sank down beside me.

“Are you okay?”

“I saw it,” I said. “I saw her death. She was strangled under the boardwalk. I couldn’t see who did it.”

I stopped and looked up at Gabriel. “Who is she?”

He shook his head. “Don’t look.”

I pushed myself up and, dizziness be damned, trudged back to the body. My eyes first went to the ragged, bitten fingernails. Then her long brown hair. Then her face. I immediately recognized her.

Joni. It was Joni. Victoria’s best friend. The one I gave the reading to. The one I forced to give a statement to the police. The one who was terrified of Victoria’s boyfriend, Joel. And now she was dead.

Suddenly, the smell hit me like a punch. I only made it a few steps away before my stomach contents poured onto the sand. Gabriel came to my side and rubbed my back with one hand, while holding my hair back with the other, until I regained my composure.

“Joel must have killed her,” I said between deep breaths. “No one else here even knew Joni. She wasn’t even here when Victoria was here.”

“Joel is gone, though,” Gabriel said. “When the girl from Boston wouldn’t press charges for the stolen car, they let him go.”

“That doesn’t mean he didn’t kill her.”

“But he wasn’t here when she would have died.”

“How do you know? Maybe he didn’t leave town. Or
maybe he did and came back.” I raised my voice to match my rising frustration. “You and your father have your sights set on Perry and you won’t even consider anyone else, even when the evidence points that way!”

“The evidence points toward your brother!” Gabriel yelled back.

I couldn’t believe he was being so shortsighted, not even considering Joel. Seething with fury, I clenched my fists. I stepped up to him, inches from his face. “I want you to listen carefully. There will be no us. Ever. I’m done working with you. Now, I’m working against you.”

I stomped away and called over my shoulder, “Because someone has to find the real killer.”

I ran home as fast as I could. I should have been there the whole time anyway. Mom was all alone in the house, waiting for the phone call, and I was making out with the enemy on the beach. I was as angry with myself for that kiss as I was with Gabriel for his stubbornness. And on top of it all, his tattoo revealed he had a secret of his own. I couldn’t trust him. I was on my own now.

I sprinted up the porch stairs and into the house. “Mom?”

“In here.”

I burst into the kitchen. “Any calls? ”

“Not yet,” she said, placing a soda can on the table. Nate was sitting there, ripping a napkin into a thousand pieces, worry written all over his face.

“Hey,” I said, taking a seat beside him.

Mom fluttered around the kitchen like a trapped bird. She seemed to be doing anything to keep herself busy.

“I came by to keep you two company,” Nate said. “And maybe because I needed the company, too.” He tried to smile, but it quickly faltered. “I’m worried, Clare.”

“I am, too. But it’s going to be okay,” I said, straightening in my seat and trying to fill my voice with hope.

Mom turned the water off in the sink. “Has something happened?”

I took a deep breath. “Joni’s dead. Her body’s on the beach; the police are probably there now.”

Mom gasped and covered her mouth.

“That’s terrible,” Nate said. “Did she drown?”

“No. She was strangled and dumped in the water. By whoever killed Victoria and Billy, I’m sure. I think, now more than ever, this points to Joel, Victoria’s boyfriend.”

Mom nodded, her eyes staring out the window. “I hope the police see it that way.”

Mom went out to the porch for some fresh air, instructing us to sit by the phone.

“There’s something else, too,” I whispered to Nate. “I saw Gabriel’s tattoo.”

He gestured dismissively. “I don’t care about that story anymore. I’ll work on it when this is over.”

“Victoria,” I said.

“What about her?”

“The tattoo. It says ‘Victoria.’ ”

Nate’s eyes narrowed.

“It could be a coincidence,” I said. “There are thousands of Victorias out there.”

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