The Spellman Files (32 page)

I set the alarm for 5:00
A.M
. and tried to sleep. I tried to count sheep but discovered that counting the holes in the stucco ceiling was far more satisfying. But neither induced sleep. I was out of bed, showered, and dressed long before the alarm buzzed. Within twenty minutes I had parked around the corner from my parents’ house, entered the backyard through the alleyway, climbed the fire escape up to my old bedroom window (which has a pulley on the latch so that I can open it from the outside), and entered my old apartment. In my best imitation of a cat burglar, I worked my way downstairs to the office. The door was locked, but I still had my key and apparently they had not gotten around to changing the locks. I found the sheet of paper with all my identification numbers on it and quickly slid out the office window and made the phone call from my car.

My sister had been missing for five days.

I
sabel Spellman” checked into the Motel 6 by the San Francisco airport five nights ago. It was approximately a half-hour drive from the house, but it seemed like only seconds had passed in transit. When I arrived, I couldn’t move from my car. I sat frozen, trying to calculate my next move. What I knew in my heart to be true, I had to see for a fact. And I had to document everything that would follow.

I pulled my digital recorder out of my purse, turned it on, and stuck it in my jacket pocket. I got out of the car and walked across the street toward the motel.

And that is when I saw her. Rae. Crossing the street right in front of me. In her arms was an unruly bundle of snacks (of the sugared variety), which she presumably bought from the convenience store across the street. Within a moment, she saw me approach and the look on her face was like a thousand-word essay of the truth. A package of Ding Dongs fell to the ground, and she didn’t try to collect it. Instead, she stared at me, paralyzed, scared, her eyes a slide show of guilt. And I knew then for a fact that my sister’s disappearance was not hinged on foul play or any other sinister option. And I knew that she wasn’t a runaway. And I knew her memory was fully intact. And I knew that for the last five days she had been safe and sound, consuming vast amounts of sugar.

And what I knew above all else was that she had kidnapped herself. And I knew why. Her intentions were to unite the family. Her intentions were to bring me home. Her intentions were to force the concept of a tragedy so horrific that our family would suddenly become the kind that didn’t follow one another, bug one another’s rooms, listen in on phone calls, interrogate relentlessly. Our family should only do that to others.

Rae used my credit card so that I would find her. Her disappearance was to leave a mark on everyone. But it was a message to me. I was responsible for everything that happened. It was my fault.

Rae sustained her frozen stare from across the parking lot, her arms still cradling the forbidden stash. The moment I knew that my sister was alive, I said to her, “You’re dead.” I doubt she heard my words through the hum of traffic, but she got the picture when I sliced my index finger across my throat.

Rae’s emergency provisions scattered around her as she made a run for it. With six inches on my sister and the adrenaline of sheer rage on my side, I managed to make up the fifteen yards and caught her just as she reached the front door to room 11.

Her hand grasped the doorknob as I swung my right arm around her waist. I lifted her off her feet and disengaged her grasp. I threw her down on a small grassy section in front of the building, a ten-by-fifteen-foot concrete-enclosed area with a bench and seesaw, impersonating a playground.

The transcripts read as follows:

ISABEL
: You are dead.
[I pinned Rae’s arms and legs to the ground as she thrashed about.]

RAE
: You gave me no choice.

ISABEL
: You are so dead.

RAE
: I did it for you.

ISABEL
: Did you hear me? Dead.

RAE
: I love you!

ISABEL
: Don’t you dare say that!

RAE
: I had a very good reason.

ISABEL
: I have a very good reason to kill you.

RAE
: Let go of me.

ISABEL
: Never.

RAE
: Please.

ISABEL
: You’re going back to camp.

RAE
: Let’s negotiate.

ISABEL
: And private school.

RAE
: That hurts!

ISABEL
: Say good-bye to the Froot Loops—

RAE
: Ouch!

ISABEL
: Lucky Charms—

RAE
: Help!

ISABEL
: Cocoa Puffs—

RAE
: No!

ISABEL
: You’re going on a macrobiotic diet. [Rae’s body went slack.]

RAE
: Okay, I give up.

I released my grip and rolled off to the side. Rae took that opportunity to attempt another escape. I caught her foot and launched her back to the grass and once again climbed on top of her, trying to pin her like before. But her arms flailed wildly, occasionally making contact with my face, charging my anger.

I rolled her over on her stomach and pulled her arms behind her back.

ISABEL
: Don’t try to escape.
[Just as I got control of Rae, two police officers came up behind me and wrenched me off her.]

OFFICER
#1: Ma’am, I’m going to need you to calm down.

ISABEL
: Accept your fate.

RAE
: You would have done the same thing if you were me.

ISABEL
: Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea what you put us through? You’re dead.

[I strain against the tight grip of the first officer.]

OFFICER
#2: Ma’am, if you can’t control yourself, we’re going to have to cuff you and take you in.

ISABEL
: Cuff
her.
Cuff the kid. She should be arrested.

OFFICER
#1: Ma’am, this is the last time I’m going to ask you to calm down.

RAE
: I’m sorry.

ISABEL
: You will be. Just wait until Mom and Dad hear about this.

OFFICER
#1: Are you two related?

ISABEL
: Not much longer.

RAE
: That’s my sister. I think you better let her go.

OFFICER
#2: Not until she learns to control herself.

ISABEL
: I’m not just going to kill you. I’m going to torture you.

OFFICER
#2: Ma’am, we can’t release you if you keep talking like that.

ISABEL
: You better grow eyes on the back of your head, Rae.

OFFICER
#1: Ma’am, that was your final warning.
[For the second time in two days, I felt the cold metal of handcuffs on my skin and not even an ounce of marijuana to show for it. One of the officers threw me against the trunk of the car. But I couldn’t stop.]

ISABEL
: The rest of your life will be pure hell.
[Rae knew she was in trouble. She knew that whatever happened to me would result in further punishment for her. It was in her best interest to save us both.]

RAE
: Please let her go. It was my fault.

ISABEL
: Of course it was your fault, you lunatic.

OFFICER
#1: Ma’am, stop squirming.

RAE
: Let her go. She didn’t do anything.

OFFICER
#2: Young lady, can you explain to us what is going on here?

ISABEL
: I’ll explain.

OFFICER
#2: No, let the girl explain.

RAE
: She’s my sister and she’s mad at me.

OFFICER
#1: Did she hurt you, miss?

RAE
: Only a little.

OFFICER
#1: Are you afraid of her?

RAE
: No. I’m fine.

ISABEL
: You better be afraid of me.

RAE
: If you don’t stop saying that, Izzy, they won’t let you go.

OFFICER
#1: Young lady, has your sister hurt you?

RAE
: If you don’t let her go, she will hurt me.

ISABEL
: You got that right.

OFFICER
#2: We can protect you.

ISABEL
: They can’t protect you.

OFFICER
#2: That’s enough, ma’am.

ISABEL
: Stop calling me ma’am!
[Officer #2 pulled me off the car by the chain on the cuffs, nearly dislocating my arms from their sockets. The back door of the black-and-white was opened, and Officer #1 put his hand over my head and pushed me onto the seat.]

ISABEL
: You won’t go to just any old camp, Rae.
[The second officer shut the door and walked around to the driver’s side.]

ISABEL
: How does music camp sound to you?

RAE
: No!
[The first officer kneeled down and spoke sympathetically to Rae.]

OFFICER
#1: What’s your name, sweetheart?

RAE
: Rae Spellman.

OFFICER
#1: Is that your sister?

RAE
: Yes.

OFFICER
#1: What is her name?

RAE
: Isabel Spellman.

OFFICER
#1: Okay, Rae, this is what we’re going to do. I’m going to stay here with you and call your parents and another squad car will come and take you home.

RAE
: I have to go with Izzy.

OFFICER
#1: We have to book your sister.

RAE
: Book me, too. I have to go, too.

OFFICER
#1: No. That’s not how it works.

RAE
: You need to put handcuffs on me, too.

OFFICER
#1: But sweetheart, you didn’t do anything wrong.

RAE
: I will.

OFFICER
#1: Let’s just relax here. Take a deep breath.
[Rae kicked the police officer in the shin, an act she figured would not require lethal retaliation, but would sting enough to force a harsh response. Perhaps one that involved handcuffs and, if she were lucky, an assault charge.]

OFFICER
#1: Ouch!

RAE
: Please put the cuffs on me and stuff me in the back of the car next to Izzy.

OFFICER
#1: Rae, I do not think that is necessary.
[Rae kicked him again, harder this time, then silently turned around, reaching her arms behind her back.]

RAE
: I’ll do it again, if you don’t cuff me.
[The officer had no choice. He put the cuffs on Rae and sat her next to me in the backseat of the squad car.]

ISABEL
: I thought you were dead.

RAE
: I’m sorry.

Nothing more was said until we arrived at the police station, met by Inspector Stone. Against protocol, he insisted that my sister and I be placed in the same holding cell. The officers were about to remove my cuffs when Stone stopped them.

“You better leave them on for now,” he said.

“What about the kid?” the officer asked.

Parity was his only move and Rae agreed. Her punishment must match mine or the retaliation would be unbearable.

“Please leave them on,” Rae said, referring to the handcuffs.

Before Inspector Stone shut the door on us, I shouted, “Hey, get me out of here!”

“I’m afraid I can’t.”

“What did I do?”

“Resisting arrest. You know better, Isabel,” Stone said, disappointed.

“Did you tell them? Did you tell them what she did?”

“I’ll take care of it,” he said and then shifted his attention to Rae, sharpening his stare. “What you did,” he said, “it was not clever or inspired. It was inexcusable and cruel. For five days your family believed that their life was over. Young lady, I am going to make it my business that you get way more than a slap on the wrist.”

Stone latched the door and I could see Rae’s complexion whiten. Through the iron bars of the cell, I watched Inspector Stone disappear down the hallway. Oddly, that very moment, the one thing I thought was: Could this be Ex-boyfriend #10?

Our silence extended a good thirty minutes. Rae was too frightened to speak. I believe it broke all her previous records. But curiosity finally got the best of me and I ended the silence.