Games of Fire (48 page)

“I should have remembered,” Spencer told her as the police talked to their parents by the door. “That isn’t a night I’m likely ever to forget.”

Sophie shook her head. “I forgot them, too. Everything’s been so crazy … and maybe I didn’t want to remember what happened.”

He leaned over and kissed her temple just as her phone buzzed beside her.

“Jessie.” She told Spencer, pushing
talk
and bringing the phone to her ear. “Hey!”

“Did you figure out who it was?” Jessie said, sounding breathless and excited. “What did the police say? Are they going to arrest them? Do you remember their names?”

Sophie chuckled. “Jessie, slow down!”

Jessie gave a sheepish giggle. “Sorry. I’m just so happy they’ll finally put a stop to all this.
We’re going to miss you at school.”

Sophie sighed. “Yeah, me too.”

“So, what are you going to do now?”

“Wait, I guess,” she said with a shrug. “Nothing else to do.”

“But it’ll be over soon!” Jessie said optimistically. “Things will go back to normal.” Sophie couldn’t think of a single thing she would have liked better. “Are you going to phone Joe and let him know or do you want me to? He’s been so worried and stressed about this.”

“I’ll call him,” she said. “I haven’t talked to him in a while.”

Jessie hesitated a moment, then gave an overly forced, “Okay! I have to go, but I’ll text you later, okay?” She hung up before Sophie could respond.

Joe
picked up on the third ring, sounding breathless as if he’d run to the phone. “Hello?”

“Hey!” she said, putting as much cheer into the single word as possible.

“Hey!” he said in return, sounding surprised. “How are you? Everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She told him about her discovery and the police being called, yet again. When she finished, Joe was quiet for so long, she thought he’d hung up. “Joe?”

“Yeah, sorry. I’m here. I was just thinking.” A resounding
bong, bong,
like the sound of someone pounding on metal under water echoed from his end. “Look, I have to do something, but I’ll call you later tonight.”

Sophie shrugged. “Okay.”

“Everything’s going to be okay, Sophie. I promise.”

They hung up. Sophie tossed her phone down next to her on the bed and sighed.

“He’s right,” Spencer said. “Everything will be okay.”

It had to be true if two people said it, right?

From the next room, a cell phone broke into a very disturbing rendition of the Macarena. Jackie hurried to get it. She returned a moment later, holding the phone to one ear and pressing a hand over the other as if the quiet room was too loud.

“What? Jamie, slow down! Where are you?”

There was a loud clatter, the sound of a band saw roaring to life, the grind of metal and angry winds. Somewhere in all that was the faint buzz of words too muffled to hear properly.

Next to Sophie, Spencer rose to his feet, still holding on tightly to Sophie’s hand. “Mom?”

Without looking at him, Jackie put up one finger for him to wait. “I don’t understand what you’re … ” Her eyebrows knit together. On the other end, Jamie’s voice grew louder, like he was shouting into the receiver. “What do you mean she’s missing?” Her hand flew to her throat. Her blue eyes became the only color on her face. “Where is she?”

“Who’s missing?” Spencer demanded, no longer obliging to the quiet signal she was giving him. “Mom!”

Her mother’s eyes darted over to him. The terror in them had Sophie getting off the bed. Her fingers tightened in Spencer’s.

“Aimee
.”

“Jamie said she went home to grab some things and never came back,” Jackie told the police officers, visibly trembling.

“How long ago was this?” the taller of the two asked, head bent over the tiny notebook in his large hand.

Fingers fumbling with her cell phone, Jackie looked at Sophie’s mom for the answer. When none was forthcoming, she guessed. “I think a few hours.”

The officer sighed, not unkindly. “A person has to be missing for forty-eight hours before we can officially file a missing person’s report.”

“She might have gone to a friend
’s or to the store,” the second officer supplied helpfully.

“But I will make a note of it in my report,” the first one said, tapping his notebook. “In the meantime, keep all phone lines clear in case she phones. Call us if anything changes.”

From her place next to Jackie on the corner of the bed, Sophie’s mother rose to her feet, ever the gracious hostess as she showed the officers to the door. By the window, her father paced. Sophie wasn’t sure if his agitation was due to Aimee’s disappearance or just the flow of stress that seemed endless of late. Jackie remained seated, wringing the phone anxiously between her hands. A moment later, Sophie’s mom returned and sat next to her. She put her arms around the smaller woman and murmured quiet, reassuring things while rubbing her back and shoulders.

But all of that was lost on Sophie. Her only focus was the stone-faced figure next to her, the one that had said nothing since the news was given. She’d watched him, his face, his posture for even the slightest clue to his thoughts and feelings, but it was like trying to decipher a brick wall.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Sophie whispered, wishing she couldn’t taste the bitter tang at the back of her throat. Was it so wrong that she didn’t care one way or another if the girl was missing?

Spencer didn’t so much as bat an eyelash. He sat staring down at his knees with an unnatural blankness.

Sophie didn’t push him, secretly angry with herself for being angry at him. It annoyed her that he cared. It annoyed her that she wished he wouldn’t. He’d once loved Aimee, so of course he was concerned. But this was the same bitch that had torn out his heart! How could he still care?

The dilemma had her moving away from him, wishing she could as easily move away from her own selfish thoughts. It wasn’t right that she felt nothing for this new bit of information. She somehow felt completely isolated from the situation by her hatred. The girl had been evil and evil never went away. The police officer had probably been right. She was probably getting her talons done or tangled in the back seat of some other dude’s car. Who knew? Whatever the case may be, like a virus, she would return to ruin more lives soon enough.

Her disturbing level of animosity had her scurrying into the bathroom and locking herself inside. She all but threw herself at the sink and turned the faucet on cold. Her hands shook violently as she thrust them beneath the gushing water and splashed her face.

What is wrong with you?
She asked her spooked reflection, her face frozen in a perpetual look of horror.

She blamed her moment of temporary insanity on claustrophobia. Too many days and nights locked away in a hotel room. Too much stress and close calls against her life. Things would go back to normal as soon as the authorities caught the people after her. She promised herself a full day with the girls. Shopping, nails, lunch
, movie, dinner. Possibly in that order. It didn’t matter. She needed to get away from the chaos. She needed to get back to her normal life.

A soft knock sounded on the door, followed by her mother’s quiet, “Sophia?”

“Yeah?”

“Jackie wants to go see Jamie
… ”

Sophie flung open the bathroom door before her mother could finish. “I want to come.”

Her mother stared at her with surprise. “I don’t think—”

“I’m going crazy!” she said. “I need fresh air. I’ll stay in the car! Just don’t leave me here!”

Ten minutes later, they were all piled in the Escalade and driving through semi deserted roads towards Richmond. Sophie had been there a few times, mostly to browse the malls, but she’d never actually paid attention to the houses. She watched them now, zipping past with dizzying speeds. Nothing looked familiar, especially not the tall, brown house that rolled into view. Her father pulled up behind a Dodge Caravan and cut the engine.

“We’ll wait for you guys here,” he said, turning his head towards the backseat to peer at Jackie.

“Thank you, Ben. We won’t be long.” She threw open her door and lunged out into the dwindling daylight. She left the door open for Spencer to climb out as she hurried up the driveway towards the brightly lit porch.

Sophie didn’t move when Spencer hopped out of the SUV. She sat picking at a hangnail on her thumb, pretending she wasn’t upset about being left behind or that he hadn’t spoken to her the entire drive
, or that he hadn’t touched her once since the news. She willed herself to be understanding and sympathetic, but it just wasn’t working for her.

“Will you come in with me?” His voice was hesitant, uncertain, so soft, Sophie almost didn’t hear it.

Her head came up, her eyes blinking in surprise. She stared at him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. The left corner of his mouth twitched. “You haven’t met the rest of the crew yet.”

After having met Suzy, Aimee and Jamie, she wasn’t sure she wanted to meet the rest, but she slid across the leather bench to the door he held open. She hopped down.

“I’ll be right back,” she told her parents, accepting the hand Spencer gave her and letting him guide her up the driveway.

The house was a two story saltbox with white trim and shutters. Someone had planted daises beneath bay windows that glowed a welcoming yellow. They walked up a cobblestone path to the door. Spencer opened it and ushered her in first.

The foyer was grand with gleaming hardwood floors, a crystal chandelier and a winding staircase that strained over an arched doorway opening into what looked like a sitting area. On the right was a set of sparkling glass doors stowing away a dining room with mahogany furniture and soft, white carpet. There was another opening just beyond that, leading into a short hall and a single door that looked like it led into a powder room.

Spencer took her down the main opening, her hand still clasped firmly in his, like he was afraid she might decide to bolt. They stepped into a TV room equipped with a monster sized TV, surround sound and cream colored furniture. The carpet was white, matching the curtains and walls. Midway, it was replaced by hardwood floors that sprawled into a kitchen with cherry wood cabinets and marble counters. Something incredibly amazing bubbled on the stove, filling the entire house with the mouthwatering scent of tomatoes, roasted meat and spices. There was a set of French doors straight ahead and another opening on the left, leading down a long, narrow hallway. But none of that caught Sophie’s attention like the small gathering of people standing around an oval table just off the kitchen.

She recognized Jackie and Jamie and even Suzy, but there were two other people there she didn’t recognize, but knew straight away. The man was the spitting image of Jamie, if Jamie was in his
late thirties with brown hair and laugh lines. He wore jeans and a blue dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Beside him, looking very delicate and beautiful was a small woman in her thirties, with sleek brown hair, enormous brown eyes and a heart-shaped face. She wore a soft peach colored shirt and jeans. But despite all that, she was impossible to miss with the enormous beach ball she’d swallowed. Her belly swelled beneath the shirt, looking very painful and uncomfortable. But she cradled the mound as though it were the most precious thing in the world. Sophie knew instantly that this was Janice and Spencer’s father.

Eyes the same shade of silver as Spencer’s rose up and caught them in the doorway. They widened. Sophie stiffened, expecting a great number of things from the stories she’d been told, especially annoyance and hostility, and was surprised when the man smiled brilliantly and hurried over to them with his arms open wide in greeting.

“Spence!” He pulled his youngest son into his embrace, smacking him a few times on the back for good measure.

Spencer didn’t return the gesture. He stood stiff and unyielding. His face gave nothing away, not even when he was set back.

His father either ignored the cold shoulder or didn’t notice. His gaze swung to Sophie, dancing with interest. “You must be Spencer’s friend.”

“Sophie,” she said, offering him her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

His father beamed, taking her hand and giving it a brisk shake. “The pleasure is all mine, Sophie. Call me Mark.” Not waiting for her to agree or disagree, he turned and waved the pretty brunette over. “This is my wife, Janice.”

Janice smiled at Sophie, but there was uncertainty in her eyes, like she was being presented to a lion. She kept one hand protectively over her bulging belly while extending her other one to Sophie.

“Nice to meet you.”

Sophie knew she should dislike the woman on principle for being a cheat and a home wrecker, but it was hard to do when Janice stared at her as though expecting to be shunned. She reminded Sophie of a beaten puppy.

“Likewise,” she said, giving Janice a genuine smile.

“Love, this is Sophie,” Mark told her, placing a gentle hand on his wife’s lower back. “She’s Spencer’s friend.”