Spooked (2 page)

I walked down the long hill toward the road where Kerry and a guy friend of hers waited for me in a beat-up old Camaro. Cool car but I wasn’t crazy about the gold color.

The windows were rolled down and Kerry’s pale white face smiled out at me. “Hey chicky. Get in the back with Irene.”

Irene? I didn’t know anyone named Irene.

“Cool car,” I said through the open window.

The guy at the wheel cracked a grin. He had an open, sweet face. I’d seen him around school. “Thanks. It’s a work in progress.”

I opened the back door and was startled to see a mannequin dressed in jeans, a black t-shirt, and a worn jean jacket with a frayed collar and holes in the elbows.

“Irene?” I slid in next to the mannequin. She wore a dark, shoulder-length blonde wig.

Kerry shrugged and turned in her seat to look back at me. “Yeah. Why not? Nobody ever names their daughter Irene now. Seemed like a good, not overly-used name.”

Made sense. “Right. Hi Irene, pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“She’s kind of quiet,” Kerry said. “Don’t be offended.”

“Right,” I said again. I looked in the rearview mirror and tried to see the face of the guy at the wheel. I liked his face.

The back of his head was blonde and wavy, and in the mirror his eyes crinkled as they looked back at me. Smiling eyes. I couldn’t tell what color they were.

“This is Mick,” Kerry said. “He’s cool.”

“Hey,” Mick said. He was a couple of grades ahead of me. Good looking, but kept to himself. Didn’t hang with any particular group, but seemed to get along with everyone. I never knew his name, until now.

I wondered why he was here. He wasn’t the least bit creepy.

“Hi,” I said. Then, because I didn’t know what else to say, I said, “So your car is a work in progress?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m trying to restore it.” He lifted his face so I could see more of it. He gave me a shy grin. “Learning as I go.”

I smiled back at him, feeling shy. Heat rose to my cheeks and I hoped he wouldn’t notice that I was blushing. I didn’t know exactly why I was blushing except that I loved his smile. It made me feel all floaty.

“Mick’s going to help us implement our plan,” Kerry said. “His father runs the home I live in, and a few others. He really shouldn’t be hanging out with the likes of me, but he’s being a rebel badass, for a change.”

Mick tilted his head back and laughed, and I felt it go right through me.

“Yeah. That’s me,” he said. “Badass rebel at your service.”

I felt a loopy smile cross my face. Then to cover it, I said, “So what is the plan?”

Kerry gave me a devilish smile. “You’ll see. It’s going to be wild.”

***

Mick pulled Irene out of the Camaro while Kerry fished around in a plastic bag.

“What is that?” I asked her, helping Mick hold Irene up, as if she’d had one too many drinks. “Your bag of tricks?”

“Hells, yeah,” Kerry said. “It’s our murder kit.”

A chill skittered up my spine. “Murder kit? That’s spooky.”

“Kerry is a little spooky,” Mick said. “In case you hadn’t noticed.”

“That, my friend,” Kerry said, pulling a coiled length of rope from her bag, “is why you like me.” She gave me a wink and a grin, which I was now thinking of as the Kerry grin.

“Kinky,” Mick said.

“Yeah, Irene likes to be tied up,” Kerry said, her eyes scanning the road behind us. “Make sure nobody drives up on us or our scheme will be ruined.”

I peered around Irene to get a better view of the road. So far, only the occasional distant set of headlights could be seen: there for a moment, and then gone on to their destination. Not much happens in this cowpoke town.

“Bring her over here.” Kerry walked to a fat oak tree with branches jutting every which way. She slung one end of the rope over a branch and pulled it down toward her.

Mick and I carried Irene to the tree and held her up while Kerry wrapped an end of rope around each of Irene’s hands, over the jean jacket so it wouldn’t slip off. She bent Irene’s legs at the knees. I blinked at this. I never realized that mannequins had bendable limbs.

“You can let her go now,” Kerry said.

Mick and I released Irene and watched as she swayed slightly from the rope. The effect was definitely unnerving.

“Creepy,” Mick said.

“That’s the idea.” Kerry pulled a roll of duct tape from the bag and knelt before Irene, ripping a length of tape from the roll. “Hold her still for a sec.”

Mick stepped forward and held Irene by the shoulders to steady her.

“Where did you get her?” I asked Kerry.

“I stole her from Maddy’s Thrift Shop a little while ago. Took off out the back and into the laneway, where Mick was waiting for us.”

I eyed Mick. “The getaway car driver? What’s next? A bank?”

Mick dropped his gaze and even in the dark I could tell that his skin had gone a little red.

“I’m a bad influence,” Kerry said. “Just look at what I’ve got the two of you doing right now.”

This was true. Kerry seemed to have a way with people. Well, certain people—people dying to do something a little crazy.

“Hand me that bag, would you, Lorelei?” she said to me.

I scooped up the bag for her and once more her pale hand disappeared into it. She had a captive audience. Mick and I watched her with a kind of morbid fascination.

She pulled a black scarf from her bag. “Last but not least.” She knelt before Irene and tied the scarf around her head, covering her eyes.

Stepping back from Irene, she surveyed her work, nodding and smiling. “Yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.”

Mick and I looked at Irene, hanging by her hands from a tree, legs bent, and blindfolded. The scene was downright ghoulish.

And she looked real. She looked just a like a girl who had been tied up, blindfolded, and murdered.

I felt the small hairs at the back of my neck rise, and the eerie feeling that we were starting something that would turn out badly crept over me.

And I was right.

Chapter Two

I awoke the next morning with a gnawing sense of dread in the pit of my stomach. Our stunt was only meant to be a practical joke—just some mischief on Devil’s Night. But it still wasn’t sitting right with me. Like a dark premonition, the sense of foreboding crept over me, and made me break out in a cold, shaky sweat.

Maybe we could take it back. If nobody had gone out to Frenchy Pointe last night, there was a chance we could just take the mannequin down and no one would ever be the wiser. This glimmer of hope lifted my spirits somewhat and made it slightly easier for me to breathe.

I showered, brushed out my long tangles and dried them with the diffuser Delia had bought me for Christmas, and pulled on a pair of black jeans and a burnt orange turtleneck in recognition of Halloween, which happens to be my most favorite time of year. Strangely, I remembered that it was Halloween but the fact that it was also my birthday almost escaped me.

I pushed out a long breath. I was tired; I hadn’t slept well. I stopped in front of a photo that Wentworth had taken of Delia and I last Halloween at my small birthday party of the three of us. She stood smiling next to me, one arm around my waist. I leaned into her, tilting my dark, wild-haired head toward hers.

I looked at my image in the picture for a long moment. Was I pretty? I’ve got my father’s thick, black lashes and my mother’s naturally red lips, so I don’t feel the need to use makeup. The women’s magazines say that some earthy-toned eye shadow would bring out the green of my eyes, but I really don’t care. I’m white as a ghost, too, but because I have no patience for properly applying blusher, I don’t bother.

“Whatever,” I said under my breath as I started downstairs. Something smelled heavenly. Pumpkin spice. My favorite.

“Good morning,” Delia said, a cheerful lilt in her tone. “Happy Halloween and happy birthday!”

“Thanks,” I said, trying to smile past my anxiety. “Happy Halloween to you.”

She frowned. “What’s wrong, Lorelei?”

I shook my head. “Nothing.” I sniffled. “I think I’m catching something, that’s all. A cold, maybe.”

She watched me for a moment, those large, blue eyes assessing my words. “Well, if you get worse, call me and I’ll come and get you.”

I nodded. “Okay. I’m sure I’ll be fine, though.”

She handed me a chocolate protein shake. “Breakfast, just as you like it.”

I smiled my thanks. My belly can’t stomach anything solid for a couple of hours after I wake. This morning I wasn’t sure whether I could stomach even the protein shake, but I took a sip anyway.

“For later.” She handed me a baggie, orange frosting smearing the inside of it and covering the pumpkin muffin. I love pumpkin muffins.

“Delia, you are way too good to me.” Suddenly, I felt terrible for sneaking out the night before. I felt as if I’d lied by omission. This woman had been nothing but wonderful to me, and I’d snuck out and participated in a stupid teenage prank.

But how bad was it, really? It was just a mannequin. It wasn’t like we’d actually murdered anyone.

“Lorelei.” Delia’s brows were furrowed as those big blue eyes stared at me.

I’d been standing there, staring at the pumpkin muffin in my hand. Just staring at it. I looked up at her and tried to crack a grin, which I knew looked sickly, as if I had a bad taste in my mouth. “Sorry. Did you say something?”

“You’re not yourself today, girl.” Delia’s concern was growing into outright worry.

I knew she was about a second away from insisting that I stay home. But I had to know whether anyone had seen our staged killing. Whether anyone knew it was us. Was I in trouble?

“I’m okay. If I really don’t feel well I’ll call you.”

Delia watched me a moment longer before nodding her head. “Okay.”

“I’d better go,” I said. “I’ll miss the bus.”

Her eyes lit up. “Oh! I almost forgot. Your witch’s hat is hanging on the coat tree next to the door.”

I felt a smile cross my lips. Every year she got me a new witch hat. Every year I loved it. She’d pick out a plain one from a bargain store, and then embellish it, making it amazingly unique and just wicked cool. Delia was a party planner, and on the side she designed and sewed costumes. Once in a while I’d help her with the sewing, and she did employ others to sew for her if she had a particularly large order. She was a wizard when it came to designing costumes.

I headed through the living room and then down the stairs and spotted it, hanging on the coat tree, as she’d said it would be. There it was: a black witch hat with orange boa feathers around the brim. Larger orange and black feathers adorned the hat, and finally, a large, black spider sat on a patch of black lace.

I laughed. “Delia. You’ve outdone yourself.” I pulled the hat from the coat tree, placing it on my head. “What do you think?”

“Positively perfect!” she said, her hands clasped at her chest in glee. “I love it.”

“Me, too.” I went up the few steps to where she stood and pecked her on the cheek. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Thanks for indulging me.”

“Delia, what are we going to do with all the witch hats you’ve made over the years?”

“Keep them, of course. Or give them away as Christmas presents.”

This made me giggle. But I’d never give them away. I love each and every one of those hats, because Delia made them. “See you later. Have a good day planning parties,” I said, heading back down the stairs.

“Lots of Halloween parties tonight, with Halloween falling on a Friday this year. Most of the work is done.”

I turned to look up at her, my hand on the doorknob. “That’s right. It is Friday. I forgot.”

“I may not be here when you get home, because I have to run out to put the final touches on decorations for a couple of parties, but the Halloween candy is in the cupboard, like always, and you know where the Halloween bowls are. I’ll decorate the house before I go.”

Delia wouldn’t throw a party for me, because she knew that would be the very last thing that I’d want. I like to spend my birthday celebrating Halloween. But I knew that she’d be picking up a gorgeous Halloween/birthday cake for me, as she always did. I felt a genuine smile cross my face. “You’re the best, Delia.”

She grinned and waved a hand at me. “Agh. Go on. See you later.”

“Okay.” I opened the door.

“And remember to call me if you want to leave school. I’ll have my cell on.”

“Okay. Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

“Lore, I’ll worry about you until I’m dead, and then probably afterwards, too.”

“You’ll probably outlive me, Delia.” The truth was I wanted her to outlive me, because I couldn’t imagine my life without her.

Something dark crossed her face.

I was reminded of why I lived with her in the first place. Terrible things happened to people with my “gift.” Me—I thought it was more a curse than a gift. Although I loved Delia and loved living with her, the fear of being found and the need to be extra cautious so that no one found out about my ability was like a constant dark cloud following me around. We were aware that people like me disappeared, never to be found again. Or if they were found, they were not found alive.

We are dangerous creatures—too dangerous to be allowed to live out in the open—with our power to discover dark and horrible secrets. God knows what we may discover.

So if I were caught, it was possible that Delia might outlive me. That she, in fact, probably would.

Then she smiled at me again. “Go on. You’ll be late.”

I blew her a kiss and went out the door into the chill autumn air.

***

I knew the moment I went through the school doors that something was wrong. Constant, hushed whispers and low murmurs came from shocked faces, concerned and somber.

In times like this I had to be very careful not to use my talent to try to connect with someone to find out what the deal was. I was tempted, but I refrained.

If any one of these kids found out what I could do, it would spread like wildfire and I’d be done. I’d have to leave Delia. And I honestly didn’t know whether I could do that.