Ghost Island (8 page)

CHAPTER 14

Daughter of a murderer
.
That bitch.

Soon Grace and I were the only ones sitting at the table. The temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees until it was almost as dismal and unforgiving inside as it was out. Johnny and Charles had left through the glass patio doors with Emily, who opened her umbrella and was probably gleefully filling them in on the gruesome details of my life.

Daughter of a murderer
.

Only Ms. Gates knew the truth, and she would never betray me. She had hurried after them as if unaware of the rain pouring down on her.

Emily must have found a computer and figured out how to get online in this storm. She had to have searched my name or something.

But why go after me?

I looked across the table at Grace’s shocked expression, her large green eyes so full of doubt.

“Leave if you want to,” I said.

“All I want to know is if it’s true. If...” She couldn’t finish the sentence.

“Go on.”

“Murder’s kind of a big deal,” she replied. “Couldn’t you have told me?”

“How?”

“I don’t know.” She shoved a tangle of auburn curls behind her ear. “It’s
just,
I think if my dad had killed my mom, I guess I would have mentioned it by now.”

“My dad didn’t kill my mom, okay? And Grace, if you had anything this totally screwed in your life, you wouldn’t tell anyone about it,
believe
me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know. We’re supposed to be friends. What else have you lied about?”

“I haven’t lied about anything.”

“You lied by omission, and now that bitch Emily has made both of us look ridiculous in front of Charles.”

“You’re worried about a guy?” I said.

She glanced away as if my words had embarrassed her. “I like him. I thought he liked me.
Now, this.”

“There’s more going on than Emily and Charles,” I said. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve got a building full of disembodied spirits doing everything to attract Charles, you, me, and maybe everyone else, for all we know.” I pointed at the scarf around her neck. “You’re wearing the proof.”

She pulled it closer as if shielding herself. “Emily would still say you’re just some freak trying to get attention.”

“Do you believe that?”

“I wouldn’t be sitting here if I did.”

“She’s the freak.” The moment I spoke the words, I felt the truth in them. “Grace, she talks weird, and she didn’t at first. She had beautiful fingernails, and now she’s biting them. And she’s managed to find out about my dad. Of course, she left out the minor detail that my mom’s never been found dead or alive.”

“How awful.”
Grace reached across the table. I c
lu
tched her hand, but it felt as cold as everything else in this room.

“Beyond awful.
But regardless, believe
me,
my dad had nothing to do with it.”

“Why’d they convict him then?”

“My brother.”
I could barely get the words out. “Let’s not go there right now. We need to focus on Emily. How’d she find out about me?”

“Anyone else here know about your, uh, family?” she asked.

“Only Ms. Gates.”
I didn’t explain more.

“Emily’s been asking about you from day one. No, that’s not right.
Since day two.
Now I remember. Right after we got to the hotel Saturday morning, she was full of questions. Did you have a boyfriend back home? Did I know you from before?”

Storm clouds blended the sky into a ceiling of gray. The room dimmed, and the overhead lights washed Grace’s face pale.

“What else?” I said.

“Well, she seemed kind of nice on the way over, just really shy. Guess I’m not as great at judging people as I thought I was.”

“Did she ask about any of the other kids?”

She shook her head, still playing with the scarf.
“Only you.
I couldn’t shut her up.”

“There’s something wrong with her, Grace.” I looked out on the patio. “Look out there. It’s pouring rain, and she’s still entertaining Johnny and Charles.”

“So what are we going to do?”

We.
She was actually going to help me. Just then, lightning lit up the patio. I saw Emily, Johnny, and Charles, all of them grinning under the umbrella Emily held over their heads. Her face reflected the dim light like a prism.

“She’s the one I need to talk to,” I told Grace.

“And he’s the one I need to talk to.” She grinned. “Charles, I mean.”

“Well, then,” I said, “shall we join them?”

CHAPTER 15

Grace and I stepped into the downpour. Emily spotted us and led the boys up the stairway to a covered balcony. We followed.

Grace tugged on Charles’s jacket. “Come on.”

“What?”

“We need to talk.”

“Okay, okay.”

“Don’t pay any attention to her,” Emily said, but Charles and Grace were already dashing down the stairs toward the patio doors.

“I’m going too,” Johnny said. “Better things to do around this place than watch you two have it out.”

“No one’s having it out,” Emily replied in her phony voice, but Johnny kept on walking. “Well, I hope you’re happy to have driven him away,
Livia
,” she said. “Must you always be so dramatic?”

“And what you did in there wasn’t dramatic?”

She tried to look amused, but I could see the flicker of anger in her eyes. “You’re the daughter of a murderer. I don’t have to listen to you.”

“How did you find out about my father?”

“It’s a matter of public record.”

“But how’d you locate that public record, and why? Until this trip, you didn’t even know me.”

“I knew you were dangerous,” she said.

“Why? It’s because of the dreams, isn’t it? You know I’m telling the truth.” I faced her head on, backing her against the wall.

She looked confused, frightened.

“I don’t have to listen...”

“You already said that. What I want to know is how you found out about my father.”

“A simple online search,
Livia
.
Our phones do work from time to time out here, you know.”

That stopped me. “Since when do you have a phone?” I asked slowly.

“Doesn’t everyone?” She shrugged and glanced down at the empty patio and its sliding glass door. “Now, I’d better rescue Charles from Grace’s pathetic c
lu
tches, don’t you think?”

“Hold on.” I grabbed her arm. It was warm, even in this weather, and that was somehow creepier than if it had been as icy as my hand. “On Saturday, after we were finally on the island, you told me you had lost your cell.”

“Perhaps I found it.”

“And perhaps—” I squeezed her arm. “Perhaps you don’t remember that conversation we had.”

“I have more important matters than you on my mind.” She pulled away from me.

“Now that, I believe.
You know about the dreams, Emily, and if you won’t tell me, I’m going to find out on my own.”

“You’re not going to find out anything.” She grabbed me by each shoulder and pushed. Stumbling backward, I toppled and almost fell, seeing a dizzying kaleidoscope of ocean and green hills. Then I grabbed hold of her.

She screamed.

I steadied myself. “You’re crazy.”

“You’re the crazy one.” Her chest heaved. “Just like your dad.”

“Shut up,” I screamed.

“
Livia
, Emily.” Ms. Gates stood below, in her black sweater and some gray pants. “Get down here right now. What the hell is going on?”

“It’s
Livia
.” Emily let go of me and scrambled to safety.

“I didn’t do anything,” I said.

“Liar,” she sobbed. “Yes, you did, and Ms. Gates saw it too. You tried to push me off the balcony,
Livia
. You tried to kill me.”

CHAPTER 16

If I hadn’t known better, I would have believed Emily’s lies. I could tell Ms. Gates was starting to.

Through her tears, she claimed I was furious with her because of what she had revealed about my father. That much was true. Then she said I had threatened her and tried to push her off the balcony. She looked at me with such terror that I had to remind myself she was
lying
. Either that or she was crazy and had convinced herself as well as Ms. Gates.

After spewing out her accusations, she had taken off to find the others. Before she left the room, she announced, “You’d better do something about
Livia
, Ms. Gates. I don’t feel safe with her around.”

Part of me wanted to go after her and demand she tell the truth even if I had to beat it out of her. Part of me wanted to collapse in tears. Neither would help me convince Ms. Gates of my innocence. We went back inside and sat in front of the fireplace. I pushed my chair up to it until its heat started to burn my skin.

“You’re too close to the flames,” Ms. Gates said.

“I’ll move in a moment. I’m cold.”

She pulled a padded tapestry stool beside me and sat on it. With her highlighted hair pulled on top of her head and her tiny dark-rimmed glasses, she looked like the teacher I had always trusted. She was the closest family I had now. I couldn’t lose her too.

“What’s going on,
Livia
?” she asked.

“I’ve been trying to tell you, but you won’t believe me.”

“About the dreams, you mean? Hon, I tried to explain that to you.”

“You think I’m making them up.”

“Sometimes we do strange things, especially when we’re hurting.”

“Except that I’ve been hurting all along, and nothing like this happened until we got on the island.”

“Okay.” She folded her hands on her lap. “You tell me what you think is going on and why you think Emily’s to blame for it.”

“I didn’t push her,” I said. “She pushed me.”

“That’s a serious accusation.”

“No more serious than what she accused me of doing.”

“You have a point there.” She was using her fair-teacher voice, which she did only when she had already made up her mind. “It’s just that Emily had no reason to push you, and you were naturally upset by what she told the others.”

“Don’t you wonder why she did that? When I asked her, she said I was dangerous.”

“That’s not true.”

“At least we agree about that,” I said, and she grinned. Good. Maybe she was really going to listen. “Yet Emily took the time to research my family just so she could discredit me in front of everyone. Don’t you think that’s odd? I’ve never done anything to her.”

She nodded slowly. “And you didn’t know each other before this trip?”

“Of course not.
Remember when we first got here, and she was so worried about having lost her phone? Well, now she claims she used that phone to go online and find out about me.”

“Really?
So she found it?”

“No. She doesn’t even remember losing it, and she doesn’t sound the same as she did on the boat. Remember how soft-spoken she was?”

“
Livia
,” she said. “Part of the reason for this trip is to teach you
kids
independence. That’s what’s happening with Emily, and what I hoped would happen with you.”

“Do you really believe that?” I asked. “That her little game to destroy me is because of some newfound independence?”

“That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think?”

“So are these dreams we’re having.”

“The dreams
you’re
having,” she corrected me.

“Emily claims she doesn’t know anything about them, but I don’t believe her,” I said. “I told you before that Grace
keeps
seeing her sister who ran away.”

“And you see a cute guy, right?”

I felt myself b
lu
sh. No way could I admit, not even to her, how much I wanted him to be real.

“In some way, I think we’re all conjuring what we wish we had.”

“And you wish you had an attentive male in your life?” She tilted her head in that way she did when she was feeling sorry for me.

“Not really.”

“That’s nothing to be ashamed of,
Livia
, especially not after what you’ve been through.”

“So maybe it would be nice, but he’s not real. Neither is Grace’s sister.”

“It’s not all that unusual to dream about what’s missing in one’s life.”

“Except these dreams feel as if they’re real.
I went back into one of Grace’s dreams and found the scarf she’d left behind.”

“You can’t possibly believe that you can carry clothing in and out of dreams.”

“We all can,” I said. “Charles just told me today he dreams about winning a lot of money. He was certain he still had it.”

“That proves you wrong about the conjuring.” She rose from the stool and moved to the back of the room. “Let’s sit back here,
Livia
. Your face is bright red.”

I stood as well. “What proves me wrong?” I asked.

“Charles. He comes from a wealthy family in Vancouver. Why would he dream about money?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “I guess I’ll have to ask him.”

“You do that.” She reached out and took both my hands in hers. “And until we figure out what’s going on, stay out of Emily’s way, okay?”

“Does that mean you believe me?” I asked.

She shrugged. “Let’s just say I’m considering it.”

***

I recognize Aaron’s scent and realize he is sitting on the carpet beside me. We lean against the sofa as the fire across the room blazes. The warmth I feel is closer, though. It comes from him. I can no more resist it than I can resist the soft music that floats around us.

The clear-paneled walls of the room are
lu
minous, as if they hold sea water. They change the color of his hair, making it, by turns, darker, lighter, paler, and more vibrant.

“You shouldn’t have gone back,” he says. “I told you it was safe here.”

“Not for me.”

“Stay.” He slides his arm around my shoulders. “The storm isn’t going to get better, not tonight, maybe not for a long time.”

“Don’t.” I pull back from his touch.

“What’s wrong? I thought you liked me.”

I start to say yes, of course I do, but something, a memory I can’t quite grasp, forces me to speak the truth.

“I don’t even know you.”

His face freezes.

Shouting breaks out somewhere close to us, maybe as near as next door.

“Liar,” someone shouts.
“Cheater!”

“Let me go. Give me the money.”

I recognize the first voice. It’s Charles. I try to get up, but the room starts to tilt. I grab hold of Aaron to steady myself. It does no good. The shouting grows louder, no longer intelligible. The room continues to spin.

“Charles, is that you?” I shout over the other voices, too many of them now, a choir of dissention.

“Stay with me.” Aaron reaches out and pulls me close to him. Our kiss turns into a marathon.
Arms, lips, hair.

Somehow, I manage to break away. “Tell me,” I say.
“Because I really want to know.”

He reaches for me. “Tell you what?”

“Are you real?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I mean it, Aaron. Are you real, or are you like Grace’s sister and Charles’s gambling buddy?”

He pulls me close, presses his lips on mine again, and kisses the hell out of me.

The voices go silent.

The room stops spinning.

“I’m as real as this,” he says. “You decide.”