Phantoms of Fall (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 2) (28 page)

When I got home, Dad and Shelly surprised me with a
dinner invitation to City Lights. It was the last place I wanted
to go but no amount of arguing would change their minds.
Were they really that stupid?
The last time we went to that
restaurant Zach was with us and my dad tried to talk to us
about sex right there in the middle of the restaurant. Getting
Zach off of my mind was impossible enough as it was, let
alone plopping
me into
a location that was
filled with
memories of him.

I stayed silent throughout the meal, washing down
every bite of steak with a healthy sip of water. The food was
so good last time but as always, nothing could compare to
what it was when Zach was around. The queasy feeling in my
stomach reminded me that the steak would taste even worse
on its way back up. Please let it stay down at least until we
got home. In the past few weeks, I’d discovered that there
was nothing worse than vomiting in a public toilet. Nothing.

For once, I got a break and the steak behaved itself
until I was safely back in my room. Once that was taken care
of,
I decided to start on my
punishment
paper for Mr.
Raspatello.
I chose to investigate the links between Edgar
Allen Poe and Stephen King since I knew both of their works
inside and out. After logging two pages worth of material, I
was forced to take a break. I couldn’t get the Black Raven
Society out of my head.

With the yearbook in hand, I flopped onto my bed and
opened it to the index.
I slid my finger down through the
alphabetical list until it landed on what I was looking for.
Black Raven Society—page 172.
When I got to the correct
page, I was disappointed.
There was no description of the
group’s activities, just a picture. I was just about to slam it
shut in frustration when I noticed a name in the caption that I
recognized. Not Hartley, not Morgan. Raspatello.

Chase Raspatello was listed as second from the left
and founder of the club. He was standing right behind Garnet.
The picture was so tiny I couldn’t make out any
of his
features. Could it be?
Could Chase Raspatello be the same
man who exploded on me today at the very mention of the
Black Raven Society? Quickly, I tossed each page aside until I
found his class photo.

He was younger, of course—and nowhere near as
hot—but the face that stared blindly back at me was none
other than that of my
once-favorite English teacher, Mr.
Raspatello. He knew Garnet!
He never once alluded to the
fact that he grew up in this town so I never gave him a second
thought.
But now, this photo combined with his reaction in
class today, I let my mind wander through the possibilities.

Something
happened
that
year
that
resulted
in
Garnet’s death. That something was tied to the Black Raven
Society and in turn, to Mr. Raspatello. But what?
And why
was
it such a touchy subject for him?
Could he
have
something to do with her death?
Could I have unknowingly
incurred the wrath of a killer today? It seemed farfetched yet
it was right there in front of my face. Mr. Raspatello killed
Garnet and now she wanted me to expose his crime.

I was in way over my head. What clues could there
still be twenty years later? No DNA, no apparent witnesses.
Just he and Garnet knew what really happened.
Until now.
How could I face him tomorrow morning knowing what I now
knew? And worse yet—what would happen when he realized
that I figured it out?

A sudden knock on my bedroom door nearly sent me
through the roof.
My nerves would have to be steady if I
hoped to not tip him off tomorrow. I would have to work on
that. Calming myself as much as possible, I called out, “Come
in.”

“You have to come downstairs
now
! The first episode
of Cinnamon Jones is on tonight!” Shelly burst into my room
and rattled the words out so fast I barely caught what she
said.

In the midst of all of my drama, I forgot that the TV
series based on her mystery novels was making its debut. “I
wouldn’t miss it!” I said as I hoisted myself out of bed. “Be
down in a second.”

“You better be! Popcorn is popped and sodas are
ready—all that’s missing is you!” With a flourish, she danced
out of the room. Sometimes I could swear that she was an
older version of Rachel, sent back in a time machine to bring a
double dose of unfettered frivolity into my life.
This was
certainly one of those times.

I took one last look at the photo of Mr. Raspatello and
shivered before closing the book. What was I going to do?
24. A Game of Cat and Mouse…Me
Being the Mouse

I walked into homeroom with trepidation, keeping my
eyes down and using Rachel as a shield.
The thought of
making eye contact with Mr. Raspatello terrified me. Did he
know that I knew the truth? As I sat in my seat thinking about
his role in Garnet’s death, curiosity overtook me. Holding my
book at arm’s length, I peeked precariously over the top to get
a good look at him. His dark eyes were staring straight back
at me intently.

My hands began to shake and the book fell from my
grip with a loud bang onto my desk.
He knew alright.
He
knew and he was trying to decide what to do about it. Now I
was being stalked by both a ghost
and
her killer. My summer
bout with the paranormal was child’s play in comparison. I
was in the big leagues now.

History dragged as usual but it was more torturous
than ever. Instead of creating intense feelings of boredom, it
gave rise to anxiety of epic proportions. I was all alone in this.
No one had the slightest clue of the danger I was in. At least
over the summer, I had Zach and Rachel to turn to when
things got rough. I could tell Rita, of course, but she couldn’t
save me if things turned dangerous here at school.
I decided
to take Mr. Raspatello’s advice—just drop it.
Garnet could
haunt me all she wanted to but I was done. Uncovering the
details of her death wasn’t worth risking my life for.

Still, I kept a low profile in English figuring it couldn’t
hurt. Mr. Raspatello acted completely normal which put my
mind at ease. Maybe the dark ominous stare in home room
was
nothing
but a
figment
of
my overactive imagination.
Maybe….
I was wrong.
As I filtered out of the classroom
along with everyone else, he called my name.

“Ruby, can I talk to you for a minute.” He leaned down
and reached into his bag.

I flinched instinctively.
Common sense told me he
wouldn’t hurt me right here in front of countless witnesses
but I still envisioned his hand retreating from the bag with a 9
mm pistol in his hand. No, he had a flair for the dramatic. He
would use an antique pearl-handled revolver instead.
If my
death weren’t involved
in
this
scenario,
I
would have
complimented him on his choice of weapon.

Instead of a gun, he was holding a file in his hand. “I
want to talk to you about the creative writing assignment you
handed in two weeks ago.”

Oh crap. I forgot all about that paper. I wrote it long
before I suspected that he was involved in Garnet’s death but
he probably thought I was taunting him with it. It was called
“Hallowed Halls” and it was the story of a lonely girl who was
murdered at school but was given a chance to live again if she
could find the one person there who knew why she was
killed—her murderer.

The
story
had a happy
ending
for the girl but
apparently it wouldn’t end so well for me. The killer in my
story was none other than the girl’s English teacher. It was
pure coincidence; however, I knew
he
wouldn’t see it that
way. I braced myself for the storm that was surely brewing
beneath his cool exterior.

“Do you know what I think about this?” He shook the
paper nonchalantly in the air.

What could I say?
If I told him
it was
all a big
misunderstanding he would know for sure that it wasn’t. My
pulse quickened and sweat began to bead on my forehead.
“Stay silent and admit to nothing!” the voice inside of my head
screamed at me. And for once, I listened to it.

“This,” he pointed to the paper with emphasis, “is pure
gold!” Where did you come up with such a great idea?”

I was flabbergasted. Was he toying with me? Was he
waiting for me to reveal my hand before he went in for the
kill? He was evil, pure evil, this man!

“Never mind where you get your ideas, Ruby. This is
amazing and I want your permission to enter it into this
year’s Edgar Allen Poe short story contest.” He flashed me the
most charming smile I’d ever seen. “Please say yes.”

Whatever his game was, I had to play along with it.
“Sure, go ahead.” I did my best to sound excited and it seemed
to work.

“Great! You’re really talented but I have one question
for you?” His smile faded and I knew the grenade was about
to fly out of his hands and land at my feet.

“Okay.” The word escaped as barely more than a
whisper.

“You weren’t thinking of me when you made her killer
an English teacher, were you?” He leaned forward in
anticipation of my response.

Frightened, I shook my head no and ran out the door
to safety.

Fear traveled with me for the rest of the day even
after I was in the safety of my own home.
I had a definite
answer—he knew.
But that led to another definite—he now
knew that I was afraid of him. He could use that fear against
me. Now what? If they kept track of such things, I know that
mine would be on the top ten list of worst senior years ever.
In less than two months, I’d made more enemies than a snitch
in a prison yard.

I spent the rest of the week dodging multiple people—
there was a nemesis around every corner it seemed. But each
day
passed without incident.
By
the time Friday
rolled
around, I should have known my luck was about to run out.

It all started in English class. My punishment paper
was due to Mr. Raspatello so I tucked it into a folder and
placed it in my bag that morning.
I was so worried about
angering him that I checked that folder a million and one
times to be sure it was still there and still safe. I kept my bag
glued to me throughout homeroom and history class.
So
imagine my surprise when I got to English and found that
folder missing.
In a panic, I dug through every one of my
folders
and
books
but
found
nothing.
It was
like
it
disappeared into thin air.

But that wasn’t possible—my bag never left my sight.
There was no way anyone could have stolen that folder out of
it. Telling Mr. Raspatello that I didn’t have that paper was
going to be a suicide mission. Suicide. Was it possible that
Garnet was responsible?
God, everyone just needed to leave
me alone! I was at my breaking point—I couldn’t handle all of
this by myself. If I only had Zach….

But I didn’t and I never would again. I had to learn
how to deal with my problems on my own. Maybe he would
forget about giving me the assignment.
Yeah, right—it was
probably the first thing on his mind. I slunk down in my seat
in the hopes that I might be able to make myself as invisible as
my paper now was.

He waited until the end of class to address me about
my
assignment.
But what
he
said
to
me was,
well,
unexpected.

“I got your assignment, Ruby. Though I don’t know
why you slipped it into my library book. You could have just
handed it to me the usual way.” He laughed like he thought it
was funny that I was so afraid of him that I went to those
great lengths to hand in my paper.

“Okay,” I mumbled and ran out the door in a haze of
confusion. How did my paper go from my bag to his book?
Was I going crazy? There was barely any time to ponder it
though because the breakfast I thought I was actually going to
digest properly was suddenly banging on the door to get out.

Ducking into the nearest rest room, I barely made it
inside the stall before everything came heaving out. I flushed
and finished wiping my mouth off and was about to open the
stall door when I heard a familiar voice. Misty.

“So little Miss Anorexic thinks she’ll get Zach back by
losing weight, huh?” Her comment was quickly followed by
Jordyn’s high pitched laughter.

It wasn’t true! I wasn’t making myself throw up on
purpose!
The way I saw it, I had two choices. Go right out
there and set her straight about this and everything else. Or
hide in the stall and cry. I chose to cry. The mental stress was
exhausting not to mention how weak I was from constantly
being sick. I couldn’t face her—not now, not like this. So I let
Misty get the best of me one more time.

It was quiet for a moment so I thought they were
gone.
Then a pair of feet planted right in front of the stall
door. And a whisper floated in to me.

“It’s not going to work. After today, he’s mine.” The
feet walked away and I heard the door to the rest room close.

 

Detention or not, I didn’t care. I spent the entire next
period on the floor in the rest room crying my eyes out.

What did she mean by that? “After today, he’s mine.”
Sinister words from someone I knew was capable of the worst
kind of evil. How could a love as beautiful as the one Zach and
I shared become so ugly so fast? Me—that’s why. I was a hot
mess and he deserved someone better than me. If I could only
go back in time, I wouldn’t have snuck out to go to that
concert last year. Lee would still be alive and I never would
have moved to Charlotte’s Grove. Zach would be so much
better off if he’d never even met me.