In Place of Never (7 page)

My eyes stretched wide. “This is big.”

“Yeah. I can’t screw it up.”

“You get to come back each week if your song wins? What happens at the end of the three weeks?”

His chest expanded before a gust of breath rushed out. “If I make it through all three weeks, I’ll get an invitation to perform in Memphis for a panel of record execs, maybe artists. No promises though, not even then, but it’s a chance I’ll never get again.”

“Wow.”

“Mm-hmm.”

I stopped short. “Hey, can you sing? If you can’t, does that hurt your chances at moving through the rounds?”

“Depends on how good the song is.”

I wasn’t sure which question he’d answered.

My restless mind circled selfishly around the information I’d shared. What would he think of me tomorrow? His scars were battle wounds, survival marks. Mine were cuts of desperation and weakness. He and I weren’t alike. He’d realize that soon. Anton said Cross saw everything.

We moved in silence across overgrown grass. At my tree, I gripped the base and set my shoe on the first hunk of wood. “Thanks again.”

Cross nodded.

My shoe slipped.

He smiled for the first time all night. “Here.” He clenched my waist in his oversize mitts and lifted.

My feet floundered along the tree trunk seeking purchase. “I didn’t want the punch.”

“You didn’t need the coffee.”

I glared down on him.

He frowned. “You need rest. Get some sleep.”

I caught the lower branch and swung myself up, retracing my earlier steps to the attic window. My phone buzzed.

“I’ll talk to Anton and Rose tonight.”

I toppled through the window with the grace of a hippo. My phone buzzed again.

“Talk to your little sister. I bet she’d like to be included.”

I turned onto my knees and peered through the glass at the dark lawn below. No one was there. The whole night could’ve been a dream.

Except I had texts to prove my sanity and a clear memory of Cross’s reclusive smile.

Purpose

I dozed off and on, tormented by dreams and worry. The purple twinkle lights I’d bought two Halloweens ago and hung from my rafters gave a comforting hue to life. As daybreak arrived, a flurry of questions circled in my mind. The world was different. After Pru’s stunt with Jason and the Lovells’ reemergence, anything was possible. I should’ve hidden under the covers until college, but at six-fifteen I headed downstairs for coffee, eager for the day. The tiny sapling of hope Rose had supplied at the campfire grew by the second. What if the grieving fourteen-year-old me had been right to question Faith’s death when no one else had? What if today I learned something significant about the night she died? What if she wasn’t alone? What if her death wasn’t an accident? What if it wasn’t suicide?

Everything could change today.

I cracked eggs into a red ceramic bowl and added milk. Piles of chopped veggies waited on the counter. Nervous energy accomplished many things before seven AM. I wiggled the silverware drawer open and dug for the whisk. The stubborn old drawer needed to be oiled or rebuilt or kicked. No whisk. Pru made breakfast one time all year and put everything away in the wrong places. I pressed the drawer shut and hunted through the kitchen for the whisk. Nothing was where Mom had kept it.

Pru dragged into the kitchen and dropped onto a chair at the table. She sat, forehead down, moaning about the injustice of her life.

I slid a cup of coffee in her direction. “Shut up.”

She rolled her eyes up at me, resting her chin where her forehead had lain. “What’s your problem?”

“Where’s the whisk?”

She pointed.

Gah. Stuck in the utensil holder with spatulas and bowl scrapers. Jeez. “Thanks.” I beat the eggs with some seasonings and veggies, then poured them in the pan. “Hungry?”

Pru slapped the table. “What. The. Hell.”

I clutched a spatula to my chest and spun on my heels, ready to defend my sister.

She glared. Her hair and makeup looked photo shoot ready, despite the cranky expression on her tanned face.

My shoulders slumped. “What happened?”

“You. What’s going on with you? Why are you happy?”

I angled my body away, pushing eggs around the pan. “Nothing’s going on.” Was I happy? I didn’t want to crawl back into bed yet.

Pru jerked to a stand and walked to the door. “Whatever. Don’t tell me. I’m going to my room.” She ran headlong into Dad.

He braced his palms on either side of the kitchen doorway and looked over her head at me. “Good. You’re cooking. Make as much as we’ve got. Company’s on the way.” The scowl on his face aged him a decade.

Pru folded her arms. “What’s going on?” She looked at me.

I shrugged.

“Right.” She rolled her eyes and huffed.

I turned the eggs and waited for an explanation from Dad. “Really. I have no idea. Dad?”

He scooted our chairs around the table, making room for extras we never used or needed. “You probably noticed the signs going up around town. That godforsaken sideshow is back and we won’t stand for it. If it wasn’t bad enough they signed on for the River Festival, they came four weeks early.”

Pru retook her seat at the table, eyes twinkling. “Who won’t stand for it?”

Dad dipped into the basement and returned with folding chairs. “Anyone with any sense and two good eyes. Mayor Jesep, Father Frank, Sheriff Dobbs, and I are drumming up a group of townsmen to have a talk with that motley crew. Perhaps they’ll see sense and leave. If they’ve got business at the festival, they should come back then. No need to stay here all month. Nothing good will come from that.”

I turned off the stove and pushed the eggs onto a platter. “You’re asking the Lovells to leave town?”

“Yes.” Dad’s voice boomed with hostility.

Pru batted wide blue eyes. “Why?”

Dad huffed and rubbed his forehead. “They aren’t welcome here. The last time they came…” He puffed his cheeks. “The Lovells are trouble. Neither of you are to attend the River Festival this year. Until we get rid of the Lovells, you’re to avoid them completely.”

Pru laughed. “Because they’re trouble? That’s kind of weird and vague.”

He thumped his palms against the table and leaned near her mocking face. “Those nomads drag their hedonism, immorality, and free-for-all attitudes around the country, enticing young people into all forms of debauchery.” His rant ended with a pointed stare. At me.

Pru scoffed. “What’d you do, Mercy?”

“Nothing.”

She raised her palms to the sky. “Whatever.”

I set the platter on the table and shot her my best innocent face. I barely left the house these days and no one knew I’d slipped out last night. I’d checked on them before getting into bed. “This isn’t about me.”

Dad pulled in a long, impatient breath. “I want you to stay away from them. Both of you. Understand me?”

I sighed. “Dad.”

“I mean it, Mercy. You’re forbidden from going anywhere near the Lovells. That includes the boy who returned your wallet. I saw the way he looked at you. He’s one of them and he’s off-limits for friendship and anything else he has in mind.”

The doorbell rang and Pru sprang from her chair. “I’ll get it.”

The crazed look in Dad’s eyes subsided. He clapped my shoulder. “Make all the breakfast we’ve got. I’ll get more groceries this afternoon.”

The fact he realized we’d need more groceries was a shocking improvement. Maybe he’d just needed purpose all this time. Maybe I had too.

A moment later, the mayor’s and sheriff’s voices sounded in the entryway, along with some elders from our church. I grabbed the carton of eggs from the refrigerator. The doorbell rang again and new voices entered the mix. I stopped counting at four doorbells and seven voices.

Breakfast was ready in fifteen minutes. Scrambled eggs, biscuits, sausage links, fruit, and cheese. The offering was too small for the number of guests but would easily have fed our family for days. I slipped an apple into my hoodie pocket and cleaned up as slowly as possible. For the first time in her life, Pru volunteered to help dry dishes.

Dad blessed the meal and the meeting. He also prayed to purge our town of the unrighteous.

Pru elbowed me as she texted.

I shushed her so I could eavesdrop. My phone buzzed. A new message from Pru.

“What. The. Hell?”

I scrubbed the frying pan a little harder. She had that question right.

Pru tensed at my side. My phone buzzed again.

“Did the sheriff just say the Lovells killed Faith?”

My head snapped around.

Sheriff Dobbs leaned both elbows on the table. A crumbled napkin dangled from his fingertips. “I’m not saying I understand what your family’s been through, but I know my family feels your pain. We’ve been through hell these last three years. Brady never got over Faith’s death. Hell, he gave up a full ride to Penn State that year. He had a future until that night. You lost a daughter, but those damn Lovells ruined my family too. Brady’s depression ruined my marriage. Mark’s as mean as a snake. We’re all changed. Those sideshow freaks need to go.” He wiped his mouth roughly with the wadded napkin. “They had a part in your Faith’s death. There’s no other explanation for it. As the sheriff in this town, I can’t sit here and treat them like guests, knowing they got away with murder.”

The wet spatula fell from my fingertips. Suds dashed my bare feet. Pru dropped to her knees. My ears rang. Wet fingers bumped my arm as she dropped the fallen spatula into the sink behind us.

Dad’s face went as white as the empty plate in front of him. Pru didn’t look much better.

“Girls, may we have a moment, please? We have some tough issues to discuss.” The determined look on the sheriff’s face said this wasn’t a request.

I followed Pru through the kitchen and family room and then out the front door.

She sat on the steps and leaned her back against the porch railing. “Did I wake up in an alternate reality? Is this like a horrible prank or some kind of intervention? Because none of this is funny.” She rubbed her arms, despite the rising July temperatures.

I paced the porch’s edge. “Everyone blames the Lovells for Faith’s death.”

“Duh.” Pru twirled a streak of blue hair around one fingertip.

I slid down the porch wall until the wooden planks stopped me. A painful epiphany jolted through my bones. All the years of gossip and nonsense. All those Gypsy-lover jokes and stupid-ass comments about spells and curses. I’d assumed they said that stuff because Faith was at the river and so were the Lovells. “Rose said Faith was at a bonfire with them. She said Faith had a couple drinks with the Lovells and a few friends.” Faith’s friends knew more than they’d told Sheriff Dobbs. Unless they’d told him more and Dad never told us. Of course he wouldn’t. He kept everything from us.

Pru’s blue ringlet stopped midcircle. Her jaw dropped. “Excuse me? Who the heck is Rose?”

I jumped to my feet before adrenaline shot me to the moon. “Come on. We need to talk.”

She huffed and levered her body off the porch step. “Finally.”

I glanced over one shoulder. Dad hadn’t told us not to leave the house today. We jogged down the steps to the sidewalk and headed for the cemetery. My heart rate settled as we moved. Fresh morning air cleared my head. I’d never gone anywhere alone with Pru before. “When did you put blue streaks in your hair?”

“Last night. Dad didn’t notice.”

“He will. He’ll hate them. Don’t worry.”

She stuck out her tongue.

I smiled.

“Mercy, I think something’s wrong with your face.”

I bumped into her and she stumbled. “Shut up.”

“Hey!” She sidestepped a puddle. “Knock it off.”

Blue hair wouldn’t be okay with her color-guard coach, but it fit her personality. “I like the blue.”

Her eyes lit up. “You do?”

“Yeah.”

Pru was two and a half years younger, unfathomably prettier, and just as tall as me. Despite our age difference, she could pass easily for my age. No more pigtails and nightgowns. I’d missed a lot while hiding in my room.

She shoved a piece of gum between her lips and waved the pack at me before pushing it back into her pocket. “Are you going to tell me what you know now?”

We crossed the street and passed a number of shops opening their doors for business. The line at White Water Coffee spilled through the door and onto the sidewalk. Pru waved to everyone and smiled. I dipped my head and prayed for invisibility.

I squinted through extra-bright sunlight. After too many days of rain, the glint off puddles and store windows blinded me. Birds and children filled the sidewalk, squawking and howling. Parents pushed strollers in droves, leaving trails of toddler-dropped muffin crumbs behind them.

A wide shadow covered Pru’s feet, and she stopped short. Mark Dobbs, my first kiss and current nemesis, blocked our path. The girl on Mark’s arm looked like a tourist in heels and hairspray. Her frozen coffee had a big red straw and an American flag on the cup.

Mark balked. “Mercy?” He blinked, clearly stunned to see me out with Pru.

Pru stepped in front of me. “Move, Mark.”

“Wait. It’s not often I see the Queen of the Dark out in daylight. It’s not even Sunday.” He grimaced, as if I’d done something to offend him and not the other way around. His overtanned shoulders stuck out from beneath a ribbed black tank top, showcasing his beloved biceps. Black and white basketball shorts hung to his calves. His dad was right on two counts. Mark had changed that summer, and he was as mean as a snake.

People stared. Pru turned red. “Move.”

He’d jumped on the name-calling crusade when other kids said awful things about Faith. I’d withdrawn from life and he’d blamed Faith for dying. When I slid deeper into myself, dropping color guard and my friends in favor of solitude, the crusaders had taken it as an invitation and unleashed their wrath on me. Apparently, bullies had more fun picking on live targets.

Mark turned his cocky head when the sidewalk crowd parted. Two guys in dark glasses and ball caps pressed toward us. My heart drummed, from joy or concern, I wasn’t sure. Cross arrived first. He stepped between Mark and me. Anton moved in beside Cross. Neither guy appeared to notice Mark or the girl. “Coffee?” Cross extended two cups to Pru and me.