Expel (9 page)

Chapter 14

The Marriage Mirage

In the morning, rain continues to pummel our world like a tidal wave of grief. I don’t remember it ever raining like this back in L.A. If it did it would be a newsworthy event with apocalyptic implications, but here on Paragon nobody bats a lash. A river could form in the middle of town, and the residents would simply take up pontoons.

Downstairs, Tad whistles away like he’s on top of the world, scrolling over paperwork from Althorpe, the marketing firm he works for—volunteers at, whichever.

“Look at you,” my mother beams. “Early bird gets the worm.” It’s weird to see the two of them happy for a change. I’m not sure I like her happy with Tad, but I suppose it beats waking up and finding her coffee klatching with Demetri, any day.

“I have cheer,” I swing open the fridge and pull out the OJ.

“Outside? In this weather?” Mom leaves her mouth open to punctuate her disbelief.

“In the gym. Chloe’s a real drill sergeant about things like this. She’s serious about bringing the All State trophy back to West. Spring break is just around the corner.”

“Oh no,” Tad shakes his head. “No more school outings where you have the potential to boot someone into kingdom come.”

“But it’s going to be amazing! Archery swimming, horseback riding—” It’s a real tampon commercial.

“No,” he flat lines.

“
Tad
,” Mom swipes the smile she greeted me with just moments before completely off her face, “I thought we decided we weren’t going there just yet.”

“What do you mean just yet?” Not that I want to revisit the fact I killed Kate, like ever, even if it was an accident.

“Dr. Booth is coming next Tuesday,” Tad gets back to his musings. “He’ll detail it out for you then.”

“Great.” I like Dr. Booth. He’s Levatio like Gage. I’d let him detail out just about anything for me. In fact, if he weren’t happily married, I’d totally love to see him detail out a relationship with my mother.

The window behind Mom looks as if it’s melting from the early morning downpour. Mom reaches up, snatches the calendar off the wall, tosses it across the room at Tad like a Frisbee, grazing him in the temple.

Geez. She’s pissed, and she’s not even hiding the fact. I don’t know whether to be amused or frightened at the sorry state of their relationship.

“See anything familiar slated for the near future?” She snaps.

Oh, I so know what this is about. Their first anniversary is coming up. I’ll never forget that day because I officially declared it I Hate Tad Landon day.

“New moon tonight,” he says it banal as though he were merely reading off a grocery list, not at all like one Count informing another of the next big sacrificial shindig to brighten up their weekend. I wonder who the next altar meal will be? Sprinkles?

“Not that,” she gives an audible huff of disappointment.

“Valentine’s Day?” His chin tucks back an inch. “What, are we teenagers? I already said I was taking you out to that Italian restaurant Ethan bankrupt us at a few months back. I even got you one of those candy hearts with the frilly lace thing glued around the box.”

Boy, I’ve met Fems that were more romantic just before they intended to rip my flesh off and eat it.

“Well, I’ll be looking forward to that glued box o’ goodies,” Mom doesn’t bother hiding the fact she’s miffed. “I’ve gotta go get ready. I’m meeting Demetri for coffee. He wants my opinion on a box of antique jewels that belonged to his grandparents. Skyla, he wanted me to relay that you can start your community service whenever you feel emotionally ready. He’s very understanding of the fact things haven’t been easy for you lately.” She runs the cool of her hand over my cheek.

Things would have been a whole lot easier on me if he hadn’t killed my father to begin with.

“Great.” I dig into my reserve of fake enthusiasm. “I’ll start, like—” never. “Whenever I feel up to it.” Again—never.

“Oh, and,” she turns with a finger in the air, “Mr. Dudley is putting together a community garage sale to benefit a new nonprofit organization he’s started called Army of Angels. All of the funds go straight into the Community Center. Isn’t that terrific?”

“He’s an angel all right,” I can’t help but avert my eyes.

“You can be sarcastic all you want,” she starts, “but he showered us with concern while you were away. He went as far as saying he felt a fondness for you that he didn’t share with other students. He really likes you, Skyla.”

“Oh, he does,” I affirm. He proves it every time he indulges in one of his lust-driven kisses.

Mom exits the room to spiffy up for her rendezvous with Demetri I-killed-your-father Edinger. I speed over to Tad and flip the calendar over to the end of April and dart my finger on the death date of the Messenger family.

“Your anniversary,” I refrain from punctuating the fact with the word, moron.

“That’s the event coming up?” He swipes the calendar from me and flips backwards. “That’s three full months away.”

“It’s two, and she probably wants a real vacation out of it, not some jaunt in the woods that requires an umbrella and a bear trap.” Crap. That’s really what it’s going to be like if he hauls us off to the backwoods of Paragon. And no TV or Wi-Fi? I’ll be
lucky
if the Fems come out to play. I’ll need them for basic entertainment.
 

“Vacations are overrated,” he gurgles out his protest.

“Some people think marriage is, too.” I didn’t want to go there, but he forced me.

“And you think your mother is one of those people.” He gives a nod of disapproval.

I shrug. “We’ll see how much attention she puts into her appearance for her meeting with Detective Edinger. Will she wear four-inch heels, and a hot little dress in the middle of a category five hurricane? Or downshift into who the hell cares what I look like mode because I’m happily married to the man I love wardrobe? Her accouterments will reveal it all.” God, I hope Tad is picking up on my verbal cues because I’m pretty sure this is the last time I’m going to do him a solid and give ample relationship advice where he and my mother are concerned.

 
“Your mother loves me. She would marry me again in an instant.”

“Prove it.”

Chapter 15

Affair in the Air
 

By late afternoon the sky above Paragon had been scoured clean, wiped in a thin slate of vanilla, nothing but a bevy of ghosts hovering around Brielle and I as we make our way through the fog-laden mall.

Logan actually gave me money right out of the safe at the bowling alley when I was done with my shift so I could,
put gas in that damn car he gave me
.

“You notice anything funny about Logan lately?” I ask, fondling lacy underwear from a bargain bin at the lingerie store. Brielle specifically came in looking for maternity lingerie which sounds a lot like an oxymoron but I don’t acknowledge that fact, just nod as she holds up a strange knit creation that technically you don’t even a need a stomach, boobs, or crotch to wear.

“He’s still hurting,” she says. “You know, from when you dumped him.”

“For the record I didn’t do the dumping.” I rattle a pair of black panties in the air for no good reason.

“’Tis true my blonde love,” she dusts my face off with a pair of skivvies so pink and innocent they can hardly justify their existence in this hotbed of immorality. “He told me himself yesterday. He took a wad of cash and said he was going to make himself feel better.”

“Mmm,” still not buying it. “Anyway, I’m glad he’s back. But whoever ran him over is still out there.” I bite down on my lip. There has to be a way to find out who did this. I bet I could get Marshall to fess up to it for less than a kiss—not that I would. But I’d love to see Chloe do jail time even if Marshall did use her as a pawn.

I spot Mom across the way, looking in a window at a men’s store. She’s probably just getting back from Demetri’s.

“I’ll be right back,” I say to Bree before whizzing out the door.

Mom adjusts herself in the reflection of the glass, wearing none other than heels and a baby doll dress that exposes her long thin legs. Ha! I so knew it. I bet Tad gagged on his oatmeal once she debuted her Lolita costume. Heck, he might be sprawled out over the dining room floor dead from a heart attack after he figured out that I was right for a change.

Just as I’m about to shout over to her, she picks up her phone and laughs into it.

“Did I leave something behind? Oh…of course I’ll see you—anytime, anywhere,” her voice carries across the vicinity.

God, she’s probably talking to Demetri. She’s way too jubilant to be talking to Tad. Come to think of it. I don’t think Tad has ever made her that happy.

“It’ll have to be quick,” she continues, “I have dinner at seven. How do I get there?”

Gross. He’s probably giving her directions to some seedy motel.

“I’m leaving right now,” she purrs and heads towards the parking lot.

I rush back to the lingerie store.

“I have to go,” I hiss over at Brielle who holds a teddy over her bulging midsection that screams wishful thinking.

“Go ahead. I just saw Michelle. I’ll catch a ride with her.” She snatches up a bra comprised of two giant pink hearts and grins.

“Oh, it’s you alright. I’ll see you at Ellis’. And not in that, please.”

“Skyla?” she calls after me. “Michelle mentioned she wanted to talk to you.”

“I’ll catch her later.”

What the hell does Michelle I-hate-your-guts Miller want to talk to me about on Valentine’s Day?

***

 
Thankfully my mother doesn’t get far. I’m able to follow the metallic blue minivan down miles of Paragon highway, and I’m careful to keep six degrees of separation at all times. Of all the colors of the rainbow Logan’s dad could have chosen for the Mustang, he chose an unsettling orange that’s about as subtle as a traffic cone even in Paragon’s heavily misted environment. Maybe that’s why he chose it because it was a safety issue. God knows every time I see a fender bender on the side of the road there’s at least one silver vehicle involved. So, I guess the justification is there, but still, it doesn’t allow for blending into the scenery while pursuing your mother on a slow speed chase to prove to yourself she’s having an affair with your father’s killer.

Obviously, I need to take her back in time to see Dad again. Obviously, the two of us need to sit her down and fill her in on a few facts about the man who has my father’s blood on his hands, who isn’t even human by the way. Marrying Demetri would be a far greater offense than marrying Tad could ever be. There must be some familial violation involved when it comes to befriending your dead husband’s killer.

Who knew Mom’s affair with Demetri would be the deciding factor that makes me land square on Tad’s side of the fence—odd how life works that way—finds enemies that make your adversaries feel like old friends.

She takes a turn and goes down an unincorporated road that leads past the falls. I pull over and let her disappear beyond the horizon before I tail her. There’s nothing out here, certainly not any hotel. What if she wasn’t on the phone with Demetri after all? What if she’s got
another
client who finds Lizbeth Landon too hot to handle? God, what if he’s a serial killer, and I’m about to rescue Mom from death’s clutches? I speed up a little only to find her car already abandoned on the side of the road.

The sky darkens, dusting the island with a lavender patina. I park and get out, following the trail of tiny holes she’s plowed in the dirt with her heels all the way to an all-familiar clearing.

“Oh my, God,” I breathe the words. In the distance, I see a group of people in long dark robes. The large flat stone of sacrifice in the middle of the field shines like a dulled out coin.

Mom laughs while a tall shadow of a man hands her a robe. She shakes it out, examines it for a good long while. The man turns, darts a quick look in my direction revealing his hooknose, coal black eyes.

There he is. Demetri the brainwasher.

She throws the cloak over her dress, invoking a long hug from him as a reward. I watch as her pale arms ride up and down his back like a pair of withering lilies.

Mom pulls back and listens to whatever bullshit it is he’s feeding her and laughs. Her voice echoes through the woods, the fattened clouds that hover above aren’t enough to contain my mother’s newfound elation. Her echoing laughter bypasses the sky, enters into the stratosphere before shooting off into dark abysmal space.

She takes up his hand and dutifully falls in line at the unholy altar.

I wonder how much longer before he convinces her that I should be lying on the stone in front of them.

I wonder how much longer before he convinces my mother I should disappear from their lives forever.