Mortal Kiss (3 page)

“Are you really worried about those bikers, Dad?” Liz asked, feeling the truck’s snow chains bite into the snow-clogged road.

“Well, they haven’t given me a reason not to be, so far,” her father muttered, glancing at the rearview mirror as he negotiated a merge. “And in my experience, it’s always better to be safe rather than sorry.”

“I will be, I promise.”

Her dad patted her knee. “I know you will, sweetheart.”

They drove in silence for another couple of minutes before Liz spoke again. “Dad …”

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking … now that we’re back at school, and this year is going to be a really tough year … and I want to do really well, you know I do …”

“Yes, Lizzie?”

“Well, I wondered …” Liz bit her lip before continuing, in a rush, “I wondered if you and Mom could increase my allowance?”

Her dad sighed. “Liz …”

“Dad,
please
. It’s been a year since the last increase. And now that I’m older, I really, really need a new wardrobe. You should have seen the looks I got at school today, turning up in the same coat I had last year. Besides,” she added innocently, “if winter really is setting in so early, I definitely need new clothes, don’t I? You know, nice warm ones?”

Liz knew she’d get what she wanted when she saw him trying to stifle a smile. Before he had a chance to say anything, she threw her arms around him and kissed him on the cheek.

“Liz! I’m driving!”

“Sorry,” she said as they pulled up outside the family’s pretty clapboard house. “Thanks, Dad! Omigod! This is going to be so great. There’s this new boutique in the mall, and I can’t wait to go there!”

“Hey! I haven’t said yes yet!”

Liz stopped talking immediately and sat very still, looking at him with big eyes.

“OK, OK,” said the policeman, conceding defeat with another sigh. “You can have a raise. But,” he warned as Liz went to hug him again, “I want straight As from you this year, you understand?”

“Sure, Dad. Piece of cake,” Liz answered with a grin, already planning her next shopping trip. She reached for the car door, pulling out her cell phone—she had to call Faye immediately! “Thanks, Dad. I love you.”

“And I meant what I said about the woods. If I catch you or Faye up there …”

Liz’s feet hit the cold snow as she slid out of the car. “I know. Don’t worry.”

“And absolutely
no
short skirts! I love you. Kiss your mother for me—tell her I’ll call her when I can.”

Liz was already dialing.

#

Sergeant Wilson watched his daughter in the rearview mirror as he pulled away, smiling to himself as she talked excitedly on her phone. She’d been dropping hints about getting a bigger allowance for weeks, but he’d ignored them as long as he could. Who knew what she’d spend it on—in his opinion, Liz owned every item of clothing she’d ever need already. But as her mother kept telling him, that was teenage girls for you. It was just that they hadn’t had the same problem with Poppy, Liz’s older sister.

His mind turned back to more troubling matters as he drove on to the town’s small morgue and parked in his usual spot. Winter Mill shared a coroner with three nearby towns.

“Pat.” Sergeant Wilson nodded as an older man opened the door, dressed in scrubs. “Sorry to call you out on a night like this.”

“Had to be done, Mitch,” said Pat Thompson, ushering him back to the autopsy room. “Although I’m not sure what good I’m going to be able to do you.”

The body had already been stitched back up and lay, gray and still, on a metal gurney in the center of the room. The autopsy room was cold, the dim lights casting odd shapes against the sterile white walls. Sergeant Wilson gave an involuntary shudder. He didn’t want to be there any longer than necessary.

“Have you got a cause of death?”

Pat reached for his notes, shaking his head. “No. The only injury I can find on the body is a slight cut on one arm. It’s shallow and smooth—a knife cut, probably—but it would not have been fatal. Other than that, the body seems unharmed.”

“Natural causes, then?”

“I can’t confirm that, either. All his vital organs were sound. There are no signs of hypothermia. It’s as if one moment he was walking around, right as rain, and the next he just … died. The only thing that might fit what I’m seeing is a massive anaphylactic reaction, but to what I couldn’t say.”

Mitch frowned. “And what about identification?”

“I ran the prints but didn’t get a hit.”

“How about through dental records?”

“Again, I’ve got nothing,” said the coroner, handing the sergeant his notes so he could see for himself. “Nothing, that is, except for more mystery.”

“Oh?”

“Take a look. You’ll see what I mean.”

Mitch scanned the summary before looking back at Pat with raised eyebrows. “What the—? World War Two dentistry? Seriously?”

“Absolutely. This man has fillings applied in a way discontinued after 1947.”

“But he doesn’t look—”

“Above thirty. I know.”

“What about his clothing?”

“What about it? He was in rags, Mitch, you know that. No labels on what was there, either.”

Mitch’s stomach turned with anxiety. Something wasn’t right here, and it made his skin crawl. “Can I see the locket you found near him again?”

“Sure.” Pat pointed toward a metal bowl. “It’s in there.”

Sergeant Wilson picked it up, running the fine antique chain between his fingers before opening the small case. He couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down his spine. He’d hoped his memory had deceived him, that when he looked at the photograph inside again he’d see something different.

But to him, the dark-haired girl inside looked just like Faye McCarron.

The snow was still falling as Faye pulled the door of McCarron’s Bookstore closed behind her. She had her camera with her, as always, but she had taken a shot the day before that was so good she doubted she’d be able to get anything comparable. It was of one of her neighbors trying to dig his car out of a deep snowdrift, while behind him a dark, dramatic sky threatened to send even more unseasonable weather down on top of him. Aunt Pam had told her to send the photo to one of the national papers, convinced that it would get used. Stories of Winter Mill’s unusual weather were beginning to cause interest in the outside world too. Faye had done as her aunt had suggested and emailed it to a
New York Times
editor, but she doubted she’d hear anything back. Still, it was worth a try.

As Faye pushed on toward Winter Mill High, she thought about her conversation with Liz the previous evening. Her friend had called less than fifteen minutes after leaving the bookstore with Sergeant Wilson, desperate to tell Faye the great news about her allowance increase. And it
was
great news—Faye’s dad had given her a raise before he’d gone away on his latest dig, and now the two girls could have the
perfect
shopping trip at the new store in town. Their chat hadn’t covered more than the latest clothes they’d both love to buy, but it had reminded Faye of how important a friend Liz was. They spent so much time together that sometimes Faye forgot how much she missed Liz when she wasn’t around. The last thing Faye wanted was for something like a boy to come between them, so she resolved to make more of an effort to be nice to Lucas Morrow, however annoying he was.

“I’ll just have to pretend to like him, for Liz’s sake,” she muttered aloud to herself as she reached the school’s front steps. “And who knows? Maybe he’ll grow on me.”

“Hey, McCarron—wait up.”

Faye turned to see Candi Thorsson a few steps behind her. As usual, the blond girl was dressed as if she’d just stepped out of a magazine. Faye stopped and watched her enviously. Candi always looked fantastic. Right now she was wearing beautiful tan leather boots and a fabulous coat. It was a delicately dyed mink with a large collar that draped around Candi’s shoulders and perfectly set off the girl’s ice-blue eyes. It was an extravagant outfit, even for Candi, and Faye knew that something must be up.

“Hi, Candi,” Faye greeted her. “You look great.”

Candi gave Faye a huge smile. “Thanks! Isn’t this coat gorgeous? It’s honest-to-goodness real Chanel! My dad sent it up from New York for me to say he was sorry for missing my birthday.”

“He’s not coming up this weekend? I’m sorry.”

Candi shrugged carelessly. “If he did, he’d only moan about my grades. I’d rather have the coat! So, listen, are you free on Saturday night?”

“Sure.”

“Then come to my party. Seriously, it’s going to be awesome. I’ve borrowed the Mathesons’ cabin up on the hill. Everyone’s going to be there. So, will you come?”

Candi’s parties were legendary. She always hired her own staff to mix the best virgin cocktails you’d ever had in your life,
and
there was usually some awesome band as well.

Faye smiled. “I’d love to! Thanks.”

“Wild!” Candi hugged her briefly before floating away on a cloud of perfume, heading for another knot of students. “See you there!”

Before Faye could make it to the school’s front door, she heard another shout behind her. This time it was Liz, wearing a smile as big as the Golden Gate Bridge, which told Faye her friend had already heard about the party.

“Omigod!” exclaimed Liz as she reached Faye. “Isn’t it awesome? An allowance raise
and
a party to shop for. And did Candi tell you that Lucas Morrow is going to be there? I should die right now. Life just can’t get better than this!”

“Don’t you think you’d better go to the party first?” laughed Faye. This was another reason she loved Liz—her characteristic excitement. No matter what was going on, you could always count on Liz to be in the middle of it, usually making the most noise!

“Very true, very true. Now, come on. This is important. We have to make a shopping schedule!”

Faye laughed again. “Why don’t we just go straight to the mall tonight, right after school?”

“Good plan. Hey—where are you going?” Liz asked as Faye walked in a different direction.

“You go ahead, I’ll be there before homeroom. I just want to go into the newspaper office and see Ms. Finch.”

#

The
Miller
had been a Winter Mill High institution for years. Some of the student contributors to the school newspaper had gone on to have stellar careers—one of the girls who had graduated just a few years before worked at
National
Geographic
, which sounded to Faye like the most perfect job in the world. The
Miller
mainly covered school activities and soft, local-interest stories like the recent cold snap. But Faye had her sights set on covering a real story for once.

“Hi, Ms. Finch.” Barbie Finch, the school’s assistant principal, was seated behind the large desk that dominated the
Miller
’s headquarters. She was a prim-looking woman in her fifties who always dressed in sharply tailored suits. She looked up as Faye approached.

“Good morning, Faye.” Ms. Finch glanced at the clock on the wall. “Aren’t you going to be late?”

“I just wanted to ask you about a piece I’d like to work on. For the paper?”

“Oh yes?”

“Did you hear about the body that Sergeant Wilson found up in the woods?”

The teacher lifted her glasses from her nose and raised an eyebrow. “A body?”

“Yes. They even think it might be murder. And the sergeant is worried that it’s linked to the arrival of the Black Dogs.”

“The
what
?”

“The Black Dogs—the bikers who’ve been camping outside town?”

“Faye, I’m not sure that any of this is appropriate for a school newspaper.”

“But it’s perfect! It could be a real investigative piece. We can do background sidebars on the bikers—why they’re called the Black Dogs, for example, and where they come from. And we can publish more articles as the case goes on. And if it is murder, and there’s a trial—”

Ms. Finch held up a hand. “Faye, stop. Just stop. I admire your enthusiasm, but really, this is not a subject for the school newspaper.”

“But, Ms. Finch—”

“How exactly would you research the bikers? Does your aunt have a book on the subject?”

“Not on the Black Dogs, no.”

“How, then?”

“Well, I was thinking that I could interview one of them.”

“Faye McCarron, you will do no such thing.”

“But—”

“No arguments, Faye. The Black Dogs are off-limits.”

“OK, well, then I’ll concentrate on the body. I can interview Sergeant Wilson.”

“Faye—” Ms. Finch sighed. “Please drop this idea. We don’t want the school mixed up in anything like that.” Seeing Faye’s downcast expression, she offered a warm smile. “I do have an assignment I was going to suggest for you, though. And it’s a good one.”

“Oh?” said Faye, unable to imagine anything as interesting as the story she’d just proposed.

“I want you to get an interview with Mercy Morrow. A human-interest article about why she came to Winter Mill. I think it’ll be fascinating, especially since she and Lucas are the talk of the town at the moment. They’re quite the mystery. Can you do that?”

Faye shrugged, uninspired. “Sure.”

“It won’t be easy. But I think it’ll be worth it. And better than getting mixed up with those bikers. OK?”

Faye mustered a smile, suppressing a sigh as she swung her book bag back over her shoulder. “OK, Ms. Finch. I won’t let you down.”

But as she left, Faye couldn’t help thinking about Lucas’s creepy driver, Ballard, and she shivered. If that was the sort of person Mercy Morrow employed, what would she be like?

Faye couldn’t help but be a little excited as she and Liz headed for Winter Mill’s shopping mall. She hadn’t been shopping in ages, and it was time she spiced up her wardrobe.

“OK,” said Liz as she pulled her car into the parking lot with Faye in the passenger seat. “Here’s my plan. Candi’s party is definitely going to be in contention for Party of the Season, right?”

“Probably,” agreed Faye.

“So it calls for a serious outfit overhaul,” Liz declared. “I’m thinking that I’m going to blow almost all of my new allowance at MK. I can’t wait!”