The Lingering Grace (33 page)

“Danny!” Tony’s voice was quiet but urgent.

“Are you volunteering, Tony? Don’t think I won’t pull this trigger.”

Tony’s voice wasn’t fearful—it was genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m sorry to do this to you.”

And then Alice saw what Tony had been looking at. The reason for his sudden burst of courage. Behind Danny, nearly hidden behind a tree-lined walkway, shadows were sprinting toward them. It was hard to judge distance in the dark; for all Alice knew, they could be a quarter-mile away, or merely a hundred yards. But it was clear that they were coming closer very quickly—running to the rescue.

She stared over Danny’s shoulder longer than she should have, afraid that she was imagining this. After all, what were the odds that some strangers would have even seen them, much less come running to their aid?

Danny soon noticed he’d lost his captives’ attention.

“What are you staring at?” he demanded. He glanced behind him but seemed reluctant to take his eyes off of Tony and Alice for any length of time, and he turned back too quickly to have seen much. “There’s nothing back there,” he said. “Look at me, will you?”

But neither of them did. Their rescuers had just burst past the line of trees and were sprinting across the remaining lawn. Alice could see now that they were police officers. She remembered hearing the blaring siren a moment before and realized that someone must have called them. But who could possibly have known to call?

She looked around, as if expecting to see a far-away bystander waving a phone, but there was no one. No one except Tony who nodded grimly at her.

“You!” she gasped. “When did you—?”

“The minute I saw Eva pull out that knife.”

“You could have said—”

“I didn’t know if they’d get here in time.”

Danny’s cheeks were darkening and he was breathing hard. “What are you talking about?
Shut up!
”

“Drop the weapon!” shouted one of the officers, running toward them with his gun drawn. “Drop it now! Everyone on the ground!”

Alice and Tony dropped to their knees; Alice buried her head in his shoulder. Danny whipped around, waving the dart gun and cursing wildly. But when he saw that he was outnumbered, he let the gun fall to the ground and put his hands in the air.

“On the ground!” the police officer shouted again.

Danny fell to his hands and knees.

“Danny,” said Tony, “Danny, I’m sorry …”

But Danny wouldn’t meet his eyes. He faced the ground, his lips shut tightly, and didn’t make a sound—not a single protest—as one of the police officers forced him to lie flat and cuffed his hands behind him.

Alice grabbed Tony’s hand as he looked away, scrunching his eyes closed.

“I did the right thing,” he said, as much to himself as to her.

Alice looked at Eva, who was only now beginning to stir. She would be furious, Alice was sure of it. She would rail on Alice for the rest of her life—if she ever spoke to her again.

“You did the only thing,” she whispered to Tony, “the only thing you could do.”

Eva opened her eyes shortly after two of the officers escorted Danny to one of the patrol cars. Alice leaned over Eva, watching nervously as her eyelids fluttered.

Tony kept his distance, sitting close enough to keep his hand on Alice’s back, but no closer.

“You know you didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” he said. “Even if she’s angry, it’s her own fault.”

There was little sympathy in his voice and Alice didn’t blame him. In fact, she felt the same way. She didn’t understand how she could simultaneously be so repulsed by someone and so sympathetic. Maybe it was just the bonding spell, but she had a feeling it was something more than magical manipulation. She knew how much pain Eva was in, and at the very least, that made things different—though it didn’t make them better.

It didn’t change anything, of course. Eva had still put Alice’s life at risk. She had almost killed Tony. She had been selfish and cruel and it made Alice’s blood run hot to think about all the things this
friend
had done to her. Certainly Eva deserved what she had gotten. Justice was on her side, swinging a gavel in agreement, reminding her with words like
fair
and
consequence
, that she could walk away without a word, never speak to Eva again, and have a clear conscience.

But when she looked at Penny’s gravestone, she couldn’t think in terms of what was fair. This wasn’t justice—a little girl’s life summed up in years. She looked over her shoulder at the stone that marked her aunt’s life and remembered with a pang her mom’s diagnosis. And that wasn’t fair either—none of it was.

One of the police officers—a tall, thin woman with close-cropped black hair—was calling an ambulance. Her partner, a stocky man significantly shorter than her, tapped Tony on the shoulder.

“I need to ask you both a few questions.”

“I’ll go first,” said Tony, with a quick glance at Alice and Eva.

“Thanks,” she mouthed.

As the police officer talked with Tony, Alice leaned over Eva, who was now feebly trying to sit up.

“Stay still,” Alice said, pushing her back.

Eva didn’t look at her, but rather stretched out a hand toward the empty air in front of her. “Wait!” she moaned.

Alice grabbed her hand. “Hey—hey, it’s okay … you’re fine … ”

But Eva just shook her head. She held tightly to Alice’s hand and scrunched her eyes closed. Her lips began to tremble and a tear trickled down her cheek.

“She’s gone. She’s gone,” she whispered.

“She was already gone, Eva,” Alice said, as gently as she could.

Releasing Alice’s hand, Eva covered her face and began bawling. Her entire upper body shook with the sobs. “She’s really gone,” she gasped between the tears. “I don’t believe it. She’s really … she’s dead.”

Both police officers and Tony were staring now. Alice didn’t know what to say, didn’t know what to do, and so she just wrapped her arms around Eva and held her head to her shoulder—the way her mom had held her—both of them crying, their shirts wet and their faces wetter.

Everything was okay and everything was wrong and nothing was fair and they cried until the ambulance arrived and EMTs swarmed them both.

If Alice’s parents had gotten home ten minutes later, they might never have known that anything happened. But the patrol car turned onto Alice’s street just as her parents were pulling into the driveway. She closed her eyes, wishing they had let Tony drive her home, wishing she could just skip the next hour of frantic questions.

Not that any of them were in any trouble. Tony and Alice had both insisted that the knife wound on Tony’s neck was Danny’s doing. Danny was going to prison anyway for gunning Eva down. Though Alice could tell it pained Tony to turn against his own brother, it was safer for everyone if he stayed in prison for a while. If he went free, there would be nothing to stop him from coming after Alice again and again and again. The police didn’t have any good reason to suspect that the helpless girl passed out on the ground had been involved in what appeared to be a brutal attack by a convicted criminal. Alice heard the officers talking in whispers before they took her home. “Lucky to be alive,” they said. “Poor kids.”

Perhaps Danny would tell them the real story—but the real story was too fantastic to be believed. As far as the police were concerned, the three of them had been at the cemetery at night on a stupid teenage dare and Danny, lurking in the area, had attacked them. Alice, Tony, and Eva had all been cited for trespassing.

Danny would not get off so easy. Alice might have felt guilty if she didn’t know about Danny’s plans for her. It was definitely better to have him out of the way. Tony had assured her that the other cult members didn’t know where she lived; Danny had apparently kept that information to himself—and for good reason. He wouldn’t have been welcomed as a hero if another initiate showed up with his prize. Nor was he about to tell them now—not when he wouldn’t benefit from the find.

Kate, the tall police officer, helped her to the door. The EMTs may have cleared her to go home, but she was still uneasy on her feet.

It was a few minutes and several rings before her dad answered the door. He looked exhausted, his face heavily shadowed in the dark entryway.

“Can I help you?” he asked, staring blankly at the officer. Then, a second later, he noticed Alice. His eyebrows arched and Alice braced herself, but the tirade she was expecting never came.

“Alice?” he asked, sounding more concerned than anything.

“I’m fine, Dad,” she assured him.

“Good.” His shoulders sagged. “Well, come in and let’s hear the story. I doubt my night can get much worse.”

Alice walked in and waited as Kate explained the trespassing and assault. She kept it basic, for which Alice was grateful, but it still sounded bad—a teenage dare, a dangerous stalker. It was hard to believe that the officer was talking about her—ordinary, rule-abiding Alice—and not some teenage wild child. She kept her gaze on the floor to avoid her dad’s eyes.

Only when Kate finished did she dare to look up. To her shock, her dad made no comment. He pulled her toward him, placed his hands on her shoulders, and studied her face.

“Thank God you’re not hurt,” he said huskily, then he pulled her close and held her there. He kept his arms around her even after Kate left and only let go of her to lock the door.

“Honey?”

Her mom hurried down the hall, tying a robe around her. “Alice! I thought I heard the door—I was changing—” She looked out the window and saw the police car driving off. Her mouth fell open. “Alice, what’s going on?”

“It’s nothing,” answered her dad.

Alice looked at him in shock.

“Alice got a little lost. The officer was nice enough to give her a ride home,” he said. His face was a patchwork of expressions: sadness, exhaustion, relief, and concern. It was such a bald-faced lie that Alice was sure her mother would never buy it. She was shocked when her mother said wearily, “I’m so glad you got home okay, sweetheart.”

The corners of her lips strained upward; she was trying so hard to smile that Alice could see the muscles in her face trembling from the effort. But the grin collapsed before it was more than a half-hearted crescent, and Alice’s mom whimpered.

“I’m sorry,” she gasped. She covered her mouth, but couldn’t hide her shining eyes. “I just need … I’m sorry.”

She turned around and fled back down the hallway, her robe whipping behind her. Alice’s heart sank; her head throbbed. She was about to chase after her mom when her dad grabbed her shoulder.

“I think it’s better to leave her alone tonight.”

“What’s wrong?” she demanded. “What happened?”

He sighed, looking down the empty hall. “Honey, I don’t know if I should … ”

“Dad,
what’s wrong
?”

Maybe it was the desperation in her voice, or maybe her dad was simply too tired to argue. He gulped, and spoke slowly, as though every word were a weight on his tongue.

“I think you know how much it hurt your mom when Aunt Greta died. It scared her too—she was so scared of the cancer. For the past couple years, she’s refused to even get a routine screening. I was glad when she said she’d get the test.”

“I already know she was positive.”

“I know,” said her Dad. “And we were dealing with it—she was dealing with it. But then … today … well, they did a lot of tests just to see, you know, what we’re dealing with. And they found something.”

Her heart skipped a beat. “Cancer?” she said breathlessly.

“Maybe—we don’t know for sure yet,” he added quickly. “They have to confirm it. But …”

“But what?”

“Considering her family history, the doctor said it’s likely that it’s … ”

He didn’t finish.

“Dad, how far along?” Alice’s chest was tight and she had trouble getting enough air. The walls seemed closer like the world was closing in on her.

“If it is … it would be bad.”

“Oh.”

She didn’t know what else to say, and apparently, neither did he. They both just stood, wordless. Alice wondered if he felt as isolated as she did. How could they both be caught up in the same heartache and yet feel so alone?