The Summer We Lost Alice (37 page)

"So it's over."

"Except for my dad. He's confessed to molestin' Perla Ingram and concealin' three murders. That's
if
you believe his and Miss Lilian's story. I'm guessin' a jury would find it all far-fetched and pin the murders on him, too. That's if the D.A. even found his confession believable enough to press charges."

"What if you don't do anything? Keep your mouth shut? He won't be around much longer anyway, seems to me," Cat said. "I hate to be blunt, but—"

"No, I've thought the same thing. Why make his last few months miserable in the name of justice? The last twenty-five years have been hell for him. Still, I owe somethin' to the victims. I'm sure the Ingrams would want him exposed in court, and Martin Dale's parents. Then there's you and your mom."

"I'll talk to the
family, see what they want to do. Mom's going to be a tough cookie."

"I thought
you
were the tough cookie. You seemed pretty intent on smackin' down whoever killed your sister."

"If he'd done it, actually killed her, it'd be different. But this 'evil' thing, it gives me a headache. I don't know what to make of it. I can't make any promises, Sammy. I'm the same confused mess I've always been."

"You're still the girl I fell in love with, Cat. I want to kiss you so bad right now."

"Get over it."

THE WIND DIED at White Deer Lake when the sun went down. A hush embraced Ethan and Heather as they walked along the shore. Flo had called Ethan's cell as soon as she heard the news about the missing children being found and the statue, presumably, being burned.

"Don't get me wrong," Heather said, "I'm glad it's over. The town can breathe again. The kids are safe. It's a good thing."

"But—"

"But where does it leave me?"

"Well, offhand I'd say it leaves you with me," Ethan said. "We get along pretty well, don't you think?"

"That's the summit of your
feelings, that we get along pretty well? Don't set the bar too high, Ethan. You might not be able to crawl over it."

"You know what I mean."

"You're the mind-reader, not me."

"I get it. You want me to say 'I love you.' Okay, maybe I do. I'm just not sure of—"

"You aren't sure of squat, Ethan. That's your problem. If it can't be splayed out in front of you and dissected and explained scientifically, you don't believe it. Maybe love's a bunch of hokum, too, like your psychic act. God forbid you get taken."

They walked along the lake until they reached the place where Sam Sr. had his heart attack. Heather stopped and took in the scene.

"I want to remember this place," she said. "I think I always will, but I want to drink it in. Since I'm not likely to ever come back."

"I want to stay in touch with Cat and Flo and the kids," Ethan said. "I want to see Matt and Brittany
grow up. There's Skype and Facetime and all that. But I figure we'll come back now and again."

"You aren't hearing me, Ethan." Heather turned to face him. She held his gaze, unwavering. "When we get back to L.A., I'll be moving on. Even if you did love me, how do I know it's me you love and not Alice? She's in
me, I know that, I'm certain of it. But I'm more than Alice. And I'm not sure that you care anything at all about
me
."

Ethan felt blindsided. He'd assumed they would go back home and keep dating, that she'd spend most nights with him. Eventually they'd move in together, maybe. In time he'd figure things out. Maybe in a few years they'd make it official. Her words made a lot of sense. He had to think about them, decide how he felt and why. You don't want to rush into these things. If she wanted to call it quits—

He pulled her close and kissed her. Many long, luxurious moments later, they parted to catch their breaths. Amid the ticking of tumbling leaves, he found himself proposing marriage.

She accepted.

* * *

Boo
woofed
and ran to the door. Cat was already peering out the window to see who was ringing the doorbell so insistently. She was stunned to see Miss Lilian and Agent Myer. Cat opened the door. She was in the middle of greeting them as Miss Lilian rushed in. Myer took time to give Boo a pat. He tried to manage a smile, but Cat could see that it was an effort. Something serious was on the agent's mind.

Miss
Lilian clutched a large, cloth handbag that looked as if it had come from a thrift store. She looked around anxiously.

"Where are the children?" Miss
Lilian said.

"In the kitchen.
We were just sitting down for some leftover birthday cake. Would you like to join us?"

"No time!" Miss
Lilian said.

She hurried to the kitchen with Cat, Boo, and Myer on her heels. She nodded to Flo who sat at the kitchen table with Matt and Brittany and four pieces of chocolate cake. She flashed a businesslike smile at the children and plopped her cloth bag on the counter. Boo collapsed noisily to the floor under the kitchen table where he was in position to catch any cake that escaped between table and mouth.

Myer stood in the doorway, observing with an intensity born of his days with the bureau.

"I came over as soon as I heard the good news," Miss
Lilian said to Flo.

She reached inside and pulled out a candle. It was brownish and lumpy, as if squeezed together by hand. It was so crudely constructed as to resemble a grade school art project led by a substitute teacher, one who normally taught math. Flo provided a plate. Miss
Lilian set the candle on it. She dug around in her bag for a match. Cat fetched her one from a drawer.

"Now, this is a very special candle," Miss
Lilian said. "The wax is infused with herbs from my own garden. You may not like the smell at first—it isn't sweet and flowery—but you'll get used to it and pretty soon you'll find it quite pleasant."

"What's it for?" Matt asked.

"It's lucky," Miss Lilian replied. "It's a good luck candle. There. Let it burn, don't blow it out. Enjoy your cake and milk while we grownups have a talk. Okay? Very good."

She smiled again at the children but her face was grim by the time she locked eyes with Flo. She angled her head toward the living room. Cat, Flo, and Myer followed her out.

Miss Lilian guided Flo to the sofa.

"The children are i
n grave danger," she whispered.

MYER TOOK a seat in the corner. Clearly, this was Miss Lilian's show and he was there only as—what? Observer? Guardian? Cat wasn't sure. She felt both reassured and discomfited by his stolid presence.

Miss
Lilian set another lumpish candle on the mantel and lit it. The pungent odor began to fill the room with an earthy scent reminiscent of mushrooms. Flo remarked that it reminded her of digging in the garden, the scent released when a deep shovelful of soil was turned.

"It's those things and more," Miss
Lilian said. "The candle evokes the protective power of the earth. It's similar to the forces that held the evil in check for twenty-five years. As long as the statue lay buried, it was rendered harmless. When that man—Walsh—unearthed it, it was able to exert itself over him. It connected with the evil within him and gave it strength. It impelled him toward unspeakable actions. When he could stand it no longer, perhaps thinking that he had lost his mind, he killed himself the only way he could that would let him take the statue with him.

"But he was wrong, you see. Fire consumes, yes, but it also liberates. Walsh did precisely what the evil wanted him to do. It didn't care about those children. It had no—what would be the term?"

"Spiritual connection?" Cat offered.

"Exactly.
No spiritual connection with those children. They were nothing more than pawns to manipulate Walsh into doing the one thing that would free the evil—burning the statue!"

"So you're telling us the evil wasn't destroyed," Flo said, "but liberated."

"Yes! It's free now to pursue the evil deeds
it
wants to perform! It's angry, you see, at its imprisonment. It's hungry. It needs to kill, to destroy. It will be drawn irresistibly to those with whom it shares a history."

Cat protested. "But Brittany and Matt weren't even conceived twenty-five years ago! They had nothing to do with Alice or Sam Sr. or Ethan—"

"They are connected, dear, through you. Your blood tie to Alice. Then there's the fact that Brittany—"

"Don't say it." Cat slumped, head in hands.
"Oh, God."

The look Flo gave her spoke of confusion and dread. Cat sighed. She shook her head, resigned.

"What about Brittany?" Flo said.

Cat considered for long moments. This was it, the last secret she'd withheld for so many years from her mother, her own buried evil that had suddenly found the light of day. She'd known this day was coming, but it had sneaked up on her.
Nothing to do but blurt out the truth.

"She isn't her father's daughter," Cat said. "I mean, she isn't Antonio's."

"Then, whose—" Flo began.

"Oh, Christ, whose do you think? She's Sammy's. I knew Antonio was fooling around and it didn't seem all that bad to, you know—what's good for the goose and all that. I cheated on him with Sammy."

"Anyone can be forgiven an indiscretion," Flo said.

"Make it about a hundred indiscretions," Cat said. "Face it, Mom, your daughter's a tramp."

"Does Sammy know?"

Cat shook her head. "Maybe he suspects. The timing would be right, but it could have been Antonio, too. But I know. I see more Sammy in her every day. I've seen pictures of Sammy's mother as a child. The resemblance is there.
Not exactly, but essentially. I'm sure of it."

"There are tests you can do."

"I don't need any tests! Even the town witch can tell it!"

Miss
Lilian lowered her eyes.

"I didn't mean to intrude. I've seen those same photographs. And
... I have a certain sensitivity."

"Sammy would marry you in a heartbeat," Flo said, "with or without tests."

"I know, I know! But I don't want him to feel manipulated into it.
I
don't want to be manipulated into it. I want it to be my choice to marry Sammy, not some sperm's!"

At last Myer spoke.

"We have a larger problem than issues of paternity," he said. "Brittany's bloodline traces straight back to Sam Sr. The evil is his. If it bears him resentment for its imprisonment, which it undoubtedly sees as betrayal, it will go after those children closest to him. In this case—"

"Brittany," Cat said, "his granddaughter." Her voice had lost its life. It sounded like the voice of someone clinically depressed, like someone standing on a precipice who had suddenly decided to take the step that sends them over the edge. Now she was falling, falling
—

Her head swam.

"First my sister, now my own daughter. I killed them both."

"Neither one is your fault," Flo said. "And nothing is going to happen to Brittany."

Cat stood in order to pace. After a couple of steps the room tilted before her eyes. Myer leaped to his feet and placed an arm around her.

"The room's spinning," she said.

"It's the shock," he said. "Please, sit down."

He helped her back to the sofa.

"Maybe you should lie back, dear," Miss Lilian said. "Put your feet up."

"That's a good idea. I don't know why I'm so dizzy—"

"As Myer said, it's the shock. Just lie down and close your eyes. Everything will be all right."

"I'll get a cold cloth for your forehead," Flo said, beginning to rise. Then she, too, sat back, her brain seeming to swirl inside her skull. She shot a look at Miss
Lilian who sat in her chair, her back straight as if she were in church, hands resting in her lap. Myer was solemn but passive. His eyes glanced at the candle burning on the mantel. Flo's gaze followed his. The scent was heavy in the room.

"The candle—" she said. Miss
Lilian smiled at her.

"Yes, the candle," Miss
Lilian said.

Flo closed her eyes and went to sleep beside her sleeping daughter.

Miss Lilian and Myer got up and walked to the kitchen. Boo lay on the floor, out cold. Matt and Brittany sat at the table, asleep. Matt's arms hung loose at his sides, his head on the table, narrowly missing the half-eaten birthday cake on his plate. Brittany rested her head on her folded arms like nap time in school.

Myer knelt beside Brittany and eased his arms under the child's body. He lifted her gently, settled her in his arms, and carried her
out of the room. As he passed the living room, he paused in front of Cat who lay prone and insensate on the sofa.

"I'm sorry," he said to her, though he knew she couldn't hear.