Siren (11 page)

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his shoulders, and stood at the base of the boulder. "This is the easy part," he said when I didn't move right away. "Just pretend you're climbing down a ladder."

"Ladders don't usually stand at ninety-degree angles," I said, peering down at the ground.

He waited for me to look at him. When I did, his expression was serious. His concern for me had temporarily managed to replace his excitement for whatever amazing scientific discovery we'd just made. "Just go slow," he said. "I've got you."

He had me. I knew what he meant--that, like always, he wouldn't let me fall--but I couldn't help wondering if there was more to the statement.

The water splashed below and I shook my head to clear it. I turned around, knelt, and lowered one foot, then the other, over the edge. Keeping all of my upper-body weight over the top of the rock, I slid my toes down the side until they fit in small crevices in the granite. Once my feet were steady, I lifted my torso slightly from the top of the rock and shifted slowly backward.

Boo
.

Justine's blue eyes flashed before me. Her gray hands were on my waist, her bruised arms dragging me down, off the rock. Panicked, I let go of the top of the rock, and my feet slipped out from under me. I fell to the ground, my sneakers somehow hitting the wet sand first. I stumbled back before they could sink, before the water could reach me and wrap around my ankles.

"It's okay."

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I looked behind Simon toward the ocean, past his arms that still reached for me, that were still ready to catch me if I needed them to.

"Vanessa," he said gently, stepping toward me.

A wave hit. I held my breath as it retreated, half expecting Justine to rise up from the sand as it did.

But she wasn't there. Of course she wasn't there. The sand was empty except for clumps of seaweed and a broken crab shell.

My eyes moved to Simon's hands--his tan, healthy,
living
hands--and I grabbed them with my own. They were cold and wet, but I could finally exhale when they began to feel warm against mine. As we stood there, I struggled to resist the sudden, overwhelming urge to release his hands and throw my arms around him.

"It's okay," he said, stepping closer. "You're okay."

I really didn't want to let go of his hands, but knew I had to, especially if we were going to make it to the car without swimming part of the way.

I let go reluctantly, careful not to look at Simon or behind him, toward the water. As we started back across the beach, I tried to ignore the siren moaning softly somewhere in the distance.

Twenty minutes later we were in the Subaru, driving toward Winter Harbor with the windows down and the heat on. I stared at the passing trees without seeing them, wondering what I was

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doing there, and why I'd dragged poor Simon into it.

Justine was gone. Done. Washed up like a fish. What difference did it make why, or how? Or what had really happened before then? The bottom line was that she wasn't coming back. As hard as that was to accept, it was the only truth there was--and had to be easier to deal with than trying to dig up what she hadn't wanted me to know. And once I accepted it, everything could go back to normal. Not to the way normal was before, but to the way it was going to be from now on.

"Simon," I began with a sigh, prepared to apologize and tell him as much. I turned toward him, already sad in anticipating my solo drive back to Boston and the long summer days without him.

But he didn't hear me. He stared straight ahead, eyes wide and mouth set in a thin line.

I followed his gaze as the car slowed and rolled to a stop.

The road was blocked off by three police cars, a fire truck, and an ambulance. Flares circled them like sparklers, and flashing lights cast a strange red glow between the surrounding trees. A dozen emergency workers flew about--police officers talked into their radios, firefighters wielded axes in the woods, and EMTs prepped the ambulance.

Two more EMTs emerged from between the glowing trees, carrying a covered stretcher. They lifted the stretcher to load it into the ambulance, and a gray, heavy hand fell out from under the white sheet.

The purple and yellow marks were visible from twenty feet away.

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Turning, I focused on the red lights illuminating the woods and the firefighters carrying axes. Before long, the emergency workers were gathered on the road, and I had a clear view through the trees.

"Simon," I said quietly, all thoughts of leaving Winter Harbor and going back to Boston immediately forgotten. "They made a path to the beach."

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CHAPTER 8

"THE DRESS IS GORGEOUS, Vanessa.
Gorgeous
. And you will be gorgeous in it."

"Thanks," I said, watching the rain stream down the windshield and wishing I hadn't answered the phone. "But I might have to be gorgeous in it sometime after this weekend."

"Absolutely! You know I wouldn't buy you some ridiculous one-time-only bridesmaid-type dress. You can definitely wear it past Labor Day. Maybe even all the way till Columbus Day, if the weather holds."

If the weather holds.

"Sounds great, Mom. Is Dad there, by any chance?"

"Yes, but we still have much to discuss. Make sure you come back to me before hanging up."

As she instructed Dad to give the phone right back, I leaned forward to look at the sky. Paige and I sat in the car in her driveway, waiting for a break in the rain before dashing to her house.

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But judging by the thick clouds, a break wasn't coming anytime soon.

"Big Poppa," I said, once Mom relinquished the receiver. "I need a favor."

"Name it, it's yours, kiddo."

"I told Mom I'm not coming home this weekend, but she doesn't seem to hear any voice but hers. And I
really
can't come home." I pictured the ambulance from yesterday, the stretcher, the disbelief on Simon's face that had stayed there into the night, after we'd finally made it back to Winter Harbor. "Not yet, anyway. Can you please let her know in a way that only you can?"

"Don't give it another thought," he said. "I'll work my Big Poppa magic."

"Thank you. I have to go. Please tell her I'll call her tomorrow."

"Parents!" Paige declared as I dropped the cell phone in the cup holder.

"More like parent. Dad's a saint, but Mom's a bit of a handful."

"I hear you. Wait until you meet Raina--King Kong's hands couldn't contain that." She leaned forward and wiped the steam clouding the inside of the windshield with her apron.

"Sorry." I ducked my head to try to see under the fog, which reappeared the second Paige wiped it away. "She runs better than she looks. The defroster's the only thing that doesn't work.

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And the air-conditioning. Oh, and the gas cap sticks, and a back window doesn't roll down."

"Who needs the back window? And anyway--are you
kidding?
It was so nice of you to give me a ride."

"I'm happy to help."

"I just don't know what Zara's thinking. Look at it out there!" She shook her head. "They're going to be lined up around the building in no time, and she just drops me off and leaves? My guess is we've got twenty minutes to find her, get her in the car, and drive back to town before the insanity starts."

"Did she say she was going home?" I wasn't about to admit it, since Paige was so determined to find her, but I hoped our search turned up empty. I knew Betty's would suffer without Zara there to wait tables, but I was also wary of witnessing the sparks that were sure to fly between the two of them. Plus, if we didn't find her right away, maybe we could look for her all day. That would definitely help keep me from thinking about Justine.

"She said she had some stuff to take care of, and she'd be back soon.
Soon
. And now it's two hours later. Do you think two hours qualifies as 'soon'?"

"No."

"Me either." She leaned forward and peered through the cloudy windshield. "It's like a monsoon out there."

I rolled down the driver's-side window for a better look. After driving along miles of narrow, twisty roads, we'd finally reached a large clearing that started level with the tree baseline and rose

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to a rounded peak. In its center was a two-story turquoise house surrounded by rosebushes blooming thousands of blossoms in every color. There were so many flowers I could smell their sweet fragrance from where we sat.

"This is ridiculous. I'm making a run for it." Paige yanked the hood of her jacket over her head, sending a light shower across the dashboard. She grabbed the door handle and looked at me. "Do you have any sisters?"

I opened my mouth to say yes ... and then closed it. Because I wasn't sure.
Did
I have any sisters? Or did I become an only child the second Justine hit the water at the base of Chione Cliffs?

Fortunately, there was a slight lull in the rain then, and Paige ran for the house. I rolled up the window, turned off the car, and ran after her, slowing only slightly when I reached the first clump of rosebushes. The flowers were dark purple, with yellow running around the petals' edges. I glanced around as I continued up the hill toward the house, noticing that all of the roses were at least two colors, and sometimes three or four. I would've thought they were fake if my jeans hadn't caught on a thorny stem right before the porch steps.

"Her bark is worse than her bite," Paige said when I reached her. "Just hang back and you'll be fine."

Assuming she referred to Zara, I was tempted to hang all the way back in the car--but she was in the house before I could offer.

I followed her into the living room, which was done in shades

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of blue and cream. The couch and armchairs were covered in navy and aqua blue tapestry. Hanging over the fireplace, which was where our flat screen hung at home, was a wide mirror with an antique ivory frame. The room's decorative touches were turquoise throw pillows, lacy lampshades perched above crystal stands, and an ivory shag rug that almost took up the entire room.

"It's my grandmother's stuff," Paige said, noticing me look around. "This is her house. Zara, my mom, and I have all lived here forever. Three generations of Marchands all under one roof, which, once you've met Raina, will be really hard to imagine."

As we headed across the room, I watched the view through the tall windows lining the far wall. It didn't change. The house sat so high up that, at least from the living room, the only thing you could see was sky.

"Vanessa," Paige said dramatically, spinning toward me just before passing through a wide doorway, "meet Raina. Queen of the castle, and of my heart."

I stopped just outside the kitchen. My head throbbed once, the pain so great I grabbed the doorway to keep from doubling over.

"Hello, Vanessa."

I blinked. The pain was gone.

"I didn't know we were having company today."

I blinked again, thinking the fleeting attack had affected my vision. Most moms I met resembled my own, who had two looks: professional and preppy. When Mom wasn't wearing black business suits, she was wearing khakis and button-down shirts. When

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her hair wasn't in a tight bun, it was in a neat ponytail. She was always put together, polished. But standing next to Raina in her best suit and heels, she'd be something else.

Invisible. Which was exactly how I felt now.

"We wouldn't have had company today if Z had shown up to work," Paige said, standing across the counter from her mother. "Vanessa gave me a ride."

"It's nice to meet you," I said, trying to smile.

Raina held a wooden spoon above a pink plastic mixing bowl and stared at me, her silver-blue eyes flashing. As she sized me up, I tried to get a better look without being obvious. She had to be just under six feet tall, with dark, wavy hair that fell to her waist. She wore a soft, sleeveless white sundress, and a dozen silver bangle bracelets that clinked together as she resumed stirring. She wore no makeup, but she didn't need to--her complexion was clear, her skin smooth. She was striking and looked more like Paige's other older sister than her mother.

"Your sister's upstairs," Raina said finally. "But she doesn't feel well."

Paige nodded toward the kitchen window. "Have you looked outside today? Do you know what's happening only a few miles away?"

"She'll be back as soon as she's able," Raina said evenly.

"No one's going to feel well if we're short staffed," Paige pointed out. "Our customers will be hungry. Louis will be cranky. And all because Z's PMS-ing? I don't think so."

Raina turned on an electric mixer and lowered it into the