Clarity (6 page)

It was funny. If Justin and I were still together, I’d probably be helping out, holding signs, and passing out bumper stickers. Instead, I was staking out the new psychic in town and about to be accosted by the junior Clayworth.

“Checking out the competition?” Stephen sneered.

I crossed my arms and looked the other way, but he walked up to me and kept jabbering.

“Madame Maslov can tell the future, you know. That’s something you can’t do, Clare.”

“No one can tell the future,” Mom said, stepping closer to me. “We have free will and the future is constantly changing due to the decisions we make every moment. You should know that, Stephen.”

He narrowed his eyes at my mother, then focused back on me. “Madame Maslov told me something about my future. Wanna hear it?”

“Sure, Stephen,” I muttered, humoring him.

“She told me a little redhead was gonna bring me trouble. I told her you already had, but she said you weren’t done with me yet. What do you think of that?”

I shrugged and put my hands in my pockets. “I think it’s a load of bull.”

“You know what I think is a load of bull?” he asked,
raising his voice. “That Mayor Harry Spellman is letting this town fall apart.”

Oh no, here we go. A pompous rant.
Perry rolled his eyes, and I sighed loudly. I could be home watching zombies in high-def.

People walking by slowed their pace and some stopped completely as Stephen’s hands flailed in the air and his monologue went on.

He bent over to pick up a candy wrapper. “Like this litter on the boardwalk,” he said. “And most shocking of all, a tourist getting killed! Tourists have never been killed before in this town.” He poked my shoulder as he asked, “What is your beloved Mayor Spellman going to do about this disgrace?”

That snapped Perry out of his disinterest. He bolted over to us and shoved Stephen aside.

“Hey!” Stephen bellowed. “Don’t push me!”

“Don’t touch my sister,” Perry countered.

Mom stood frozen with her fist covering her mouth.

Just as I thought they’d go to blows, a finely manicured hand appeared on Stephen’s arm. He looked over his shoulder and immediately calmed and stepped back. Cecile Clayworth had that effect on people.

Her silky black hair hung evenly to just above the shoulder, where a handbag worth about the same as my brother’s car hung. Stephen’s mother hadn’t been born an upper-crust WASP. Rumor had it her childhood was a rough one, spent in foster care and bouncing around. But she had big dreams and
high hopes and the looks to match. Landing a man like Dallas Clayworth was a life-changing prospect, and she’d easily molded herself into a snob.

“I apologize for my son’s behavior,” Cecile said, her voice smooth.

If there was anything Cecile Clayworth hated, it was a scene, and she avoided them at all costs. Anytime Stephen got into trouble, Cecile dealt with it by pretending it had never happened.

She took off her oversized Hollywood sunglasses and peered at the small crowd that had formed in response to Stephen’s outburst. Her eyes said “move on.” And they did.

She whispered something in Stephen’s ear, and he immediately slunk over to the nearest bench and sat down.

She turned back to us and spoke softly. “You’ll have to excuse my son. I think the election has put all of us under stress lately.” She smiled delicately.

Then, as quickly as she had materialized, she was gone. What could have been a knock-down, drag-out fight (my money was on Perry, by the way) ended as quickly as it had escalated. Cecile came off as classy and mildly apologetic and before we knew it she’d steered Stephen away like a naughty little boy who had to go home.

“Let’s head back,” Perry said, putting one arm around me and one around Mom.

“You two go on,” I said. I wasn’t in the mood for a movie at home anymore. “I’m going for a walk on the beach, to clear my head. I’ve got to meet with Justin and Gabriel first thing
in the morning and start working on finding Victoria Happel’s killer.”

Perry’s arm fell from my shoulder.

“What?” I asked. “You know Justin asked me to work with the police on this case.”

He only nodded.

What was his problem? Then, it hit me. Always the over-protective brother.

I reached up and patted him on the head. “I’m not going to be in any danger, Perry. Stop your worrying.”

With that, I turned on my heel and followed the sound of the pounding surf.

I’ve always loved the ocean, the smell of salt in the air, the sand under my feet, the wind in my hair. Justin and I had spent many days at the beach. He’d given me my first-ever kiss over by the jetty. I had realized I was in love with him while we held hands under the boardwalk. Even in winter, we’d strolled across the sand, laughing as the wind whipped our hair into our faces.

I could have stayed with Justin. He wanted to stay together, swore he would never cheat again. Things would have been easier on me if I’d stayed. But my pride wouldn’t let me. I broke up with him and returned to untouchable status.

I didn’t go to the beach for a month.

I was glad to return now. The first time was bad and I’d shed a few tears, but now the beach was mine again and I
could ignore the memories of Justin and focus on the beauty of the ocean.

I sank down onto the sand and closed my eyes. I was so focused on the rhythmic push and pull of the tide that I didn’t hear footsteps behind me. I didn’t know anyone stood over me, until two hands squeezed my shoulders.

SEVEN

I BOLTED UPRIGHT.

Perry backed up, hands in the air. “I figured you heard me coming.”

I put a hand over my heart. “No, I didn’t. You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He sat on the sand facing me. He looked strange, his eyes dull, his face slack, as if he were in shock.

“What are you doing out here? I thought you were going home.”

He turned away and looked at the sea. The light of the half-moon shimmered on the ocean, giving the small waves a metallic look. “Kind of calm tonight, huh? Not that choppy.”

Nice dodge. I paused and waited for him to answer the question. When he didn’t, I said, “You’re acting weird. What is it?”

He turned back to me. “I was with a Vicki Saturday night.”

I rocked back in surprise. “What? Who’s Vicki?”

“I was with a girl Saturday night. She was eighteen. I never got her last name, but her first name was Vicki. Short for Victoria, I guess.”

I swallowed hard. “A tourist?”

“Yeah. She took me back to her motel room.”

“Don’t tell me.” I put my hand up in front of my face. If he didn’t say it, then it wouldn’t be true. If he didn’t say the words, then maybe this wasn’t happening.

“King’s Courtyard.”

My stomach twisted. “Who was she here with?” I asked, still hoping for this to be a joke or a coincidence.

His face shut down and his voice was flat. “No one. I met her at Yummy’s. She was all pissed off. Something about her best friend betraying her and what she came to the Cape for wasn’t working out and life never worked out for her and all that stuff. I tried to cheer her up, we got to talking and then, you know.”

“Perry.” I shook my head.

He pulled his legs up and rested his chin on his knees. In that one motion, he stopped looking like my confident older brother and instead morphed into a worried child. “What are the chances that more than one Vicki was staying alone at the King’s Courtyard Saturday night?” he asked in a small voice.

“Not good,” I said. I chewed on my lip. I hated to even ask, but had to. “Do you know who did this?”

He shook his head and stared at the sand. “She was alive and content when I left. She wanted me to spend the night, but I wanted to get back home before Mom realized I was out so late. I left her there.” He paused and added, with a catch in his voice, “And now she’s dead.”

I knew Perry was a player, but we usually steered clear of conversations regarding his escapades. I didn’t need to know
the details of his overactive love life. In this case, though, I had to ask. I braced myself for the question. “Did you have sex with her?”

He broke eye contact and mumbled under his breath, “Yeah.”

My nostrils flared as a jumble of emotions rumbled inside me. I was angry at Perry for his reckless behavior. Worried about the consequences for him. Freaked out about Mom finding out and having a breakdown. And furious at Perry’s whorish ways for causing it all. I yelled, “You didn’t even know her!”

“She wanted to!” He stood quickly, kicking up a small sandstorm. “What was I supposed to say? No? Clare, I’m an eighteen-year-old guy. When an opportunity like this comes around, I take it.”

“Just shut up, Perry. I can’t even stand to think about this.”

I put my face in my hands. He sat back down and we both stewed in silence for a few minutes. Slowly, my anger receded. He was right. What single guy would turn that offer down? Yeah, the situation sucked, but it could be worse. He could have stayed and ended up shot, too. I couldn’t even let my mind go there. I focused instead on the problem at hand. I had to protect my brother.

“Did anyone see you leave the restaurant with her?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. The place was mobbed. The Saturday night of the busiest week of the year, everyone was there.”

“Who’s everyone?”

Perry’s eyes lifted up to the black sky as if the stars had the answers. “I don’t remember.”

“This isn’t good, Perry.” I paused, my mind turning with possibilities. “Keep this info to yourself for now.”

“You have to tell the police, Clare. You’re working with them now.”

“I don’t have to do anything of the sort,” I said, my voice steady. All the competing emotions cleared. I knew what had to be done.

“I was with her the night she was killed,” Perry said. “That makes me a top suspect. Hiding that information would make you an accessory or whatever. I don’t want to get you in trouble for keeping this from the police or from Justin.”

I stood up and dusted myself off. “Screw the police and screw Justin. Family first. Keep your trap shut.”

I marched home with Perry following at a distance, head low, like a shamed dog. With each pounding footstep, my thoughts raced. Perry had done something stupid, sure, but I wasn’t going to the cops over it to offer him up like a sacrifice. They’d waste their time focusing on him rather than the real killer.

Perry had nothing to do with this. Of course he didn’t, I repeated silently. I glanced over my shoulder at Perry slinking in the darkness.

He couldn’t have.

The phone rang at some ungodly hour the next morning and I picked it up, my voice thick with sleep. “Hello?”

“Clare, this is Harry Spellman.”

I sat straight up in bed. Had I missed the meeting? I’d been up half the night worrying. I squinted at my digital clock. No, it was only eight. “Good morning, Mr. Spellman.”

“I wanted to thank you for coming to my office today to meet with Justin and Gabriel Toscano. I also wanted to apologize because I won’t be at the meeting.”

“No problem. You must be very busy.”

“It’s not that, Clare. I won’t be involved in this part of the investigation at all. Justin will be acting on my behalf. Detective Toscano’s son, Gabriel, will be acting on
his
behalf. The three of you will need to work together on this.”

Mr. Spellman was a nice man. While Justin and I had dated, his parents never seemed to mind my … idiosyncrasies. In fact, they believed in them. I wondered if that had changed. “You don’t believe in me?” I asked.

“Of course I do. I always have.” He paused for a moment, then sighed. “I’ll be honest with you, Clare. This is the first murder we’ve had in Eastport in many years. The townspeople are in a panic. They want to know the police are on the job — not teenagers, not our resident psychic. You know I respect and admire you and your family, but if I want to be re-elected, I need to keep myself out of any … questionable predicaments.”

I sighed, too. It made perfect sense. “I understand.”

“The same goes for Detective Toscano. He’s busy running the formal investigation and he doesn’t really buy into this. In fact, he’s only allowing his son to work with you as a favor to me.”

“Okay.”

“I apologize again. But I trust that you will work well with Justin and Gabriel. I really think you’re going to help us with this, Clare. And I appreciate it.”

I arrived at the mayor’s office on time. As promised, Mr. Spellman was nowhere to be seen. Only Justin and Gabriel were there, standing in front of the mayor’s desk. On the desk sat a plastic bag that my eyes went to immediately. Then I looked at Justin and Gabriel. Seeing the two of them standing next to each other was a jolt stronger than my morning Diet Coke. Those were two handsome guys. Unfortunately one was a jerk.

I nodded at both of them. “Justin. Gabriel. Good morning.”

Confusion fell over Gabriel’s face. “Clare? What are you doing here?”

Now it was Justin’s turn to look bewildered. “You two know each other? ”

“Wait, wait,” Gabriel said, putting his hand to his forehead. “Clarity Fern. Clare? Clare is Clarity Fern?”

I kept my smile on even though inside it was faltering. “Yes, we’re one and the same. Why?”

“You’re the nutjob?” Gabriel asked.

I felt like I’d been punched in the chest. All the air went out of me. They’d gotten to him. He hadn’t even entered the school halls yet, but the kids had gotten to him. Told him I was a freak.

My heart sank. We’d hit it off so well. He was the first guy
I’d thought of “in that way” since Justin. I had been instantly attracted to him, and he’d actually flirted back. I’d gotten my hopes up and now it was all over.

He was just like the others.

My mind reeled. I searched for a snarky retort. Grappled for an insult to thrash out at him, my instinctive self-preservation I’d practiced so much in school. But nothing came.

Justin put a warning hand on Gabriel’s shoulder. “Watch yourself, new guy.”

“Justin, could I speak to you alone for a moment?” My voice sounded young and vulnerable and I hated it.