The Yanti (5 page)

“Were you alone?”

“No.”

“Were you with Steve and Cindy? You know, when I couldn’t reach you, I called the police. They said your friends are missing. Are they back home yet?”

Ali hesitated. “Cindy’s sleeping here, right now, in my room. She’s going to go home soon.”

“Wake her up and send her home this instant. I spoke to her parents. They’re frantic about her.” Her father paused. “Where’s Steve?”

Ali swallowed thickly. “He’s not here.”

“Where is he? Is he still up on the mountain?”

“No.”

“Then where is he? This is no time for games! I spoke to his mom earlier this evening, and she cried the whole time. She’s talked herself into believing that you kids had been kidnapped
by the same people who took Karl. I had an awful time trying to reassure her. To be frank, I’m shocked at your behavior, Ali. This is so irresponsible of you. Your adventure—or whatever you want to call it—is over with, finished. You kids are not going near the woods the rest of the summer. Do you know I wasn’t even able to deliver my load to Miami when I discovered you had disappeared? I got too upset. Just so you know, the load is still in the back of my rig. That’s another account I’m going to lose. Fifteen hundred bucks a month down the drain.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t pay the bills.” Again, her father paused. “Is Steve there with you? He is, isn’t he? Let me talk to him.”

Suddenly, all of Ali’s fairy powers did not feel so powerful. She had to struggle to breathe. She spoke in a whisper. “Dad, you can’t talk to him.”

“Why not?” he demanded.

“He’s dead.”

“What?”

“He’s dead. He died . . . a few hours ago.”

“What are you talking about? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Tears burned her eyes. She felt as if she were falling then, into a hole, a black pit without a bottom. Suddenly she was not so detached. Geea, Alosha—the fairy queen had fled for parts unknown. Thirteen-year-old Ali Warner was the only one left to answer his questions.

“Dad, I’m not lying. Steve’s dead. He was killed by this woman who lives in Toule. Her name’s Sheri Smith. She stabbed him in the heart. No, I mean, she ordered someone else to stab him.”

“Who?”

Now was not the time to talk of Karl. “It doesn’t matter, a
guy who works for her. It was Sheri Smith who was behind the murder.” Ali added, “She almost murdered Cindy, too, but she managed to escape.”

Her dad was a long time responding. “Do the police know about this?”

“Cindy tried to tell them, but they didn’t believe her.”

“Why not?”

“Because the woman who killed Steve—she stole his body.”

“Ali . . .”

“He’s dead, Dad, and Cindy’s lucky to be alive. Now you’re right, I’ll wake her up and send her home right away. And I’ll call Steve’s parents, and talk to them, and tell them what’s happened to their son.”

“You can’t do that. You can’t make up a story like that.”

“It’s not a story. It’s the truth.”

“Who’s this woman you’re talking about? The name sounds familiar.”

“She runs a software company out of Toule—Omega Overtures. They make tons of money selling computer games.”

“I’ve read about her in the paper.” Her father didn’t sound as if he was buying her story. “So tell me why this rich and famous woman would want to kill Steve.”

“It’s a long story. I can’t explain it on the phone.”

“I’m confused. You say you were up on the mountain, in a cave. Is that where Steve was killed?”

“I wasn’t with him when he died. He was killed in Toule—in Sheri Smith’s mansion. But I saw his body.” She added, “I carried him in my arms.”

A stupid remark. Annoyed, her father snorted. “How could you pick him up?”

“I just did,” she mumbled.

“Before the rich woman returned and stole his body?”

“Yes.”

“Is this what Cindy told the police?”

“Not exactly.”

“Could you please elaborate on that?”

“She didn’t mention that I was there.”

“Why not? If you were there.”

“I asked her not to.” She added, “Like I said, it’s hard to explain on the phone. But when you get home, I promise I’ll show you things that will help you understand that I’m telling the truth.”

“What kind of
things
?”

“Trust me, you’ll see.”

He did not trust her, that much was obvious. She could not blame him. “Tell me one thing, Ali, does any of this have to do with what happened last month? When you and the others disappeared up the mountain for two days?”

“Yes.”

“So you lied about what happened then, right?”

“Yes.”

Her father sighed. “Ali, I love you more than anything in the world. I always have, from the instant you were born. You know that, don’t you?”

“Yes.”

“So when are you going to stop lying to me?”

“When you get home.” Her voice cracked then, with pain. It was true, she was still very human. How quickly she had forgotten; how hard it was to be reminded. She forced herself to add, “When you get home, everything will become clear.”

They exchanged goodbyes and Ali set down the phone.

Across the room, Nira continued to stare at her.

Then there came a hard knock at the door.

A man called out for her to answer.

It was the police.

“Open up, Ali! I know you’re in there!”

It was not just any policeman. Ali recognized the voice. Officer Mike Garten—who for the last month had regularly stopped by to question her about Karl Tanner. The Tanners were the richest family in Breakwater, and Deputy Garten was trying to boost his career by solving the mystery of Karl’s disappearance. He was hoping to make himself the new sheriff. As if being the head honcho in Breakwater was a big deal. The tiny town had a lower crime rate than most West Coast malls.

Grabbing Nira by the arm, Ali pulled the unprotesting child into her bedroom and gently shook Cindy awake. Garten continued to pound at the door, but when Cindy opened her eyes, they shone with a soft light.

“I was having the most beautiful dream,” she whispered with a sigh.

“Sorry to disturb it,” Ali said, wondering if Cindy was, like her, a fairy in the green world. They were so close, had been all their lives. Yet Ali had never paused to consider the possibility. Ali went on, “I wish I could have let you sleep longer, but Garten’s at the door, and he knows I’m here. I need you to take Nira and hide her in the basement. I’m pretty sure I can keep him out of the house, but he might have a search warrant, so I can’t be sure. Hide in the corner closet until I call for you.”

At the mention of Nira’s name, Cindy came fully awake. Picking up the child—and a blanket to keep Nira warm—Cindy hurried to obey Ali’s instructions. As Cindy disappeared in the direction of the basement, Ali could not help but
notice the way Nira clung to her. The child had already closed her eyes. She might even have gone back to sleep. She was in Cindy’s arms; all was well. Nira’s warm response to her friend gave substance to a theory Ali had just started to formulate.

Ali tore off her pants and shirt, pulled on her nightgown. When she answered the door, she yawned loudly in the cop’s face. The sun had yet to totally rise but it was close at hand. Her front porch was well lit, and showed that the cop’s eyes were red and tired, no doubt from lack of sleep.

Officer Mike Garten was on the young side for a cop, twenty-one. He was so tall and skinny, she hated to think what would happen if he ran into a real villain in the middle of the night. He would probably shoot himself in the foot. He was one of those guys who was so insecure, he constantly had to overcompensate by acting tough. Ali had heard that when he was in high school, he had joined the football team, and after taking a hard hit in the season’s opening game, he had sued the coach on the opposing team for “unjustifiable cruelty.” When he questioned her about Karl’s disappearance, he always tried to intimidate her. Usually she was able to rattle him with the power of her eyes and make him go away.

This time, though, she worried, he might have something on her.

“Officer Garten,” she said in surprise, still yawning. “Isn’t it a little early to be out harassing local citizens?”

“I’ve been by this house a dozen times in the last three days and you haven’t answered once. Where the hell have you been?”

“Please, Officer Garten, I’m only thirteen. My dad doesn’t like people swearing in my presence. Particularly people who carry badges and wear guns. By the way, that’s a nice shiny revolver you’ve got there. Killed anyone in the line of duty lately?”

She loved to mock him—she couldn’t help herself. Along with the dirty money Karl’s father was no doubt slipping him—and the possibility of a major promotion—her mouth was probably the main reason he was determined to see her locked up. Her taunting didn’t help the situation, but . . . well, she was a fairy queen, she could fly and all that, but she was no angel.

“Ali . . .” he began.

“As to where I’ve been,” she interrupted. “It’s none of your business. I’m not a criminal and you’re not my parole officer. I don’t have to report what I do.”

Her attitude made him smile, which did nothing to calm her down. He was acting cocky. He had something up his sleeve.

“Heard your best pal, Cindy, was in Toule tonight, at the police station, saying your other friend, Steve, had been killed by the town’s most powerful lady—Ms. Sheri Smith. Cindy went on record as saying Ms. Smith murdered Steve right in front of her.”

She scowled. “Then why, might I ask, are you grinning?”

“Because when Toule’s police went to the scene of the supposed crime, they found nothing. Not a trace of foul play.” Garten paused. “Have anything to say about that?”

“Nope.”

“Thought you’d say that. Later in the night, about two hours ago, one of Toule’s police officers saw a girl who matched your description entering and exiting Ms. Smith’s residence.” There was definite gloat in this pause. “Have any comment on that?”

Was he bluffing? She was sure she had not been seen at the house. She was extremely sensitive to the gaze of other people, even when they were hidden from view. Yet she might have missed someone. The entire time she had been at the mansion,
she had not felt well. She had been dizzy and disoriented, almost as if she had been drugged.

It was almost as if she had been under some kind of spell.

“Nope,” Ali replied.

“You’re absolutely sure you weren’t there?”

“Yes.”

He took out a pen and a tiny notepad, made a scribble. “I’m making a written record of your response. Later, in court, I might have to swear to a jury what you told me just now.”

“Swear all you want, I know you like it.”

As he had during his last visit, he tried to peer past her and see inside her house. “The Toule police say they drove Cindy home three hours ago, but I was just at the Franken residence, and she wasn’t there.”

“So?”

“So aren’t you worried where she is?”

“She called me on her cell. I think she’ll be home soon.”

“When was that?”

“An hour or so ago.”

“Where did she call you from?”

Ali shrugged. “Beats me.”

Garten kept twisting his neck to see past her. “Mind if I come in and have a look around?”

“Yes. I do mind.”

“Why? If you have nothing to hide?”

“I just don’t like some low-level deputy ordering me around in my own house.”

Hardening his tone, he tried to push past her. “I know she’s here. Get out of my way, Ali.”

She blocked his way. She stood directly in front of him, planted her feet, and saw the look of astonishment on his face when he realized he could not budge her an inch. A skinny
thirteen-year-old chick. Of course, a dozen strong men could not have pushed her out of the way. She smiled sweetly at him.

“Do you have a warrant, Officer Garten? You’ll need one to search my house.” She added, “You might also need backup, the way you’re having trouble handling me.”

Garten backed off a step, frowned, puzzled. “Is your father here?”

“No.”

“Is Cindy Franken here?”

“No.”

He got angry. “You’re lying. You and your buddies—you’re all liars. Steve Fender isn’t dead, but Karl Tanner almost certainly is. And the district attorney and I—we’re confident you three are the ones who killed him.”

“You mean you and the rest of the spoiled Tanner clan are confident. The district attorney is not as brain-dead as you and your rich chums. You know Steve and Cindy have been reported missing for the last three days, but that doesn’t bother you all, because their families are poor and therefore have no leverage at the mayor’s office. Since you got here, you’ve shown no genuine concern for them. That’s because their kidnappings at the hands of a rich woman don’t fit in with your silly conspiracy theories. Yeah, I know all about them, everyone in town has heard about your ‘Ali killed Karl plots.’ You’re the one who talked Mr. Tanner into thinking I was a suspect in the first place. Then you told him what names he should put on a suspect list. I bet he slipped you some cash to put us at the top of that list.” Ali added, “Don’t you just hate it when a cop turns out to be such a cop-out?”

His bitterness rose. “Why you little . . .”

She raised her hand, let a thread of her inner power enter her voice. “Going to swear at me again? Going to try to scare
me into confessing to a crime you know nothing about?” Shaking her head, yawning for real this time, Ali reached for the doorknob. “Don’t bother answering, I’m tired of talking to you. I’m going back to bed.”

Ali went to shut the door, but he stopped her, spoke sharply with an authority that surprised her. “You’re to appear at the police station at nine o’clock this morning.”

She paused. “Says who?”

He pulled out an official looking piece of paper, handed it over.

“This is a court order signed by our local judge—Judge Lincoln—ordering you to appear. You can see your name clearly typed at the top. I just dropped the same papers off at Cindy’s and Steve’s houses. When your pals do reappear—and I’ve a funny feeling that’s going to happen soon—tell them they would be wise to be on time. Or else the three of you will be arrested, by me, and spend some time in juvenile hall.”