Dead Of Night Part 2

I hadn't considered that so many other people would be applying for the same position. As bad as the economy was, a lot of people were probably looking for work. My heart sank a little as I realized I'd have to be the least-qualified applicant.

"Here we are." Mrs. Frost put on a pair of reading gla.s.ses. "You're fifteen years old, you live in the farming community, and you're a soph.o.m.ore at Tanglewood. Straight-A student, very good." She turned the page over. "You live with your brothers?"

"Yes." There was never any easy way to say it, so I kept it short. "Our folks were killed in a car accident. My oldest brother Patrick is my legal guardian."

She asked me a few more questions before she set aside the application. "As I mentioned in the ad, the job entails working thirty hours a week around the holidays. I need someone to inventory the shop's stock as well as catalog a collection of rare books I've just acquired. The work has to be done during the evening, as I've rented the shop to a college testing a.s.sistance service that will be holding their tutoring cla.s.ses here during the day. Have you heard of Julian Hargraves?"

"Just what I read about him in the paper," I admitted. "He was really old when he died."

"One hundred and seven, bless him," she said. "Julian collected rare books about all sorts of occult topics. He was not a friendly man, but on a few occasions when I delivered a special order to his home, he asked me to stay for tea. Just before he died, he instructed his estate manager to sell his entire collection to me for thirty dollars."

I wasn't sure I'd heard her right. "You mean, thirty dollars a book?"

"Thirty dollars for the entire library." She saw my expression. "It's completely ridiculous, of course. Julian had books that individually were worth thousands of dollars; I know because I sold them to him." Mrs. Frost smiled. "But enough about Julian. Why are you interested in working for me, Catlyn?"

"I love books," I said. "I also want to earn some money for college."

She nodded. "Are those your only reasons?"

"No, ma'am." I didn't have to hide behind the brick wall now, but I did have to be careful. "My brothers are great, and I love them, but I want to become more independent."

She nodded. "If I hire you, how will you get back and forth to work?"

"I'm planning on taking the bus that runs from Farmer's Market to downtown," I said. "Both of my brothers drive, so if I miss it, one of them can drop me off or pick me up."

She gave me a shrewd look. "What are your five favorite novels?"

I thought of my small collection of books. "Valley of the Horses by Jean M. Auel, Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, Mistress Devon by Virginia Coffman, A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle and The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder."

"Interesting." She seemed to relax. "You can often tell a great deal about someone when you know what their favorite books are. You enjoy stories with strong heroines placed in impossible situations."

"I know heroes are more popular with most people, but I like girls who think for themselves and do something about their problems. Instead of waiting to be rescued by the hero," I tacked on.

"I think I have just the book for you." She opened a drawer and took out a worn paperback with dog-eared pages and yellowed edges. "This is one of my favorite novels." The faded cover showed a dark-haired woman in a cloak, and looked a little like a romance novel. "Don't be fooled by the artwork. The story is quite remarkable."

I felt embarra.s.sed. "I'm sorry, but I didn't bring any money with me."

"Consider it a welcoming gift." She handed it to me. "If you can start tomorrow, the job is yours."

"Really?" All the breath wanted to rush out of me. "But I didn't think ... "

"That I'd hire you?" The skin around her eyes crinkled. "You're bright, you've never been in trouble, you know how to use a computer, and you love books. That's all the experience I need." She stood up and held out her hand. "I'll see you tomorrow at three o'clock sharp. Wear something comfortable."

"Yes, ma'am." I shook her hand. "Thank you so much."

Three.

Ipractically floated out of Mrs. Frost's office. As I looked around the bookstore, everything seemed new all over again. I was going to work here. I had the job.

"Cat." A pet.i.te redhead waved at me from a table by the window where she was sitting with two other girls.

I grinned and walked over. "Hey, Tiffany." I nodded to her friends Amber and Gwen, who were also on the cheerleading squad at our high school. "Are you doing some shopping?"

"We're hiding from my mom. She's on a Christmas ornament bender for her ladies club swap. I'm about to overdose on red, green and adorably cute." She pushed out the empty chair and patted the seat, inviting me to sit down. "What are you doing in town?"

I sat down, trying not to beam like an idiot and failing. "I just got a job, working here. I'm going to be inventorying the shop while Mrs. Frost is up north for the holidays."

"Then you deserve a cookie." Tiffany handed me a little decorated gingerbread man. "If you ever need someone to come over and hara.s.s you, give me a call."

"Great." I bit into the cookie to hide my dismay. Just like everyone else in town, Tiffany didn't remember me, or that when I first moved here she had hara.s.sed me almost daily at school. It hadn't been her fault, but she didn't remember that, either.

"So did you hear about Sunny Johnson?" Amber asked. At my blank look, she pointed at the shop across the street. "Her parents own the Junktique."

"No." I glanced through the window but only saw a closed sign. "I don't think I know her."

"She mostly hangs out with the 4-H'ers," Tiffany said, referring to the tight group of kids at Tanglewood whose parents were all working farmers. "Her boyfriend is Nick Starple. You wouldn't know him; he dropped out last year."

"Anyway," Amber said, "Nick always picks Sunny up at school and takes her home. Only last Friday his car broke down so he couldn't make it, and when Sunny's parents got home that night, she was gone."

I frowned. "Gone where?"

"They say she ran away from home again." Amber looked around and lowered her voice. "She's done it a couple times before, you know, because her dad is so strict and her mom just goes along with it to keep the peace. Lately Sunny has been saying how she and Nick might take off and go up north, like to Maryland or something, where they could get married without their parents' permission."

"It's all Sunny talks about," Gwen a.s.sured me. "She hates her parents and she's crazy about Nick."

"Then why would she leave without him?" I asked.

"She wouldn't," Gwen said.

Amber nodded. "Exactly. No one can figure out why she'd take off alone, least of all Nick. She didn't have any money or a car. No one saw her at the bus station, and she hasn't phoned anyone. Not even Nick, and she would definitely call him just to let him know she was okay."

Gwen lowered her voice to a whisper. "What if Nick did something to her and is just trying to cover it up?"

"No way." Tiffany sounded adamant. "I've known Nicky since kindergarten. He acts tough, but he's not a bad guy. The only reason he dropped out of school was to take care of the farm after his dad got sick."

Amber nodded. "Nick's been talking to everyone, trying to find out if anyone has heard from Sunny. One of the shopkeepers thought he saw her talking to an old man near her folks' shop that night after they closed, but he couldn't be sure. Nick swears she would have walked to the shop when he didn't show up, but no one can find this old man. He thinks something bad must have happened to her. Like maybe someone jumped her."

"Or grabbed her," Gwen added. "It's happened a couple times before. That's why we have the curfew."

Just before the Halloween dance I'd seriously thought about running away from home, but in the end I'd decided against it. A girl by herself in a strange place, who had no money, no transportation and no friends, was a walking target.

"I wish I could help, but I've never met Sunny," I said. "I don't even know what she looks like."

"She's pretty average," Tiffany said. "Brown eyes, long brown hair, kinda skinny. She always wears this jacket Nick gave her for her sixteenth birthday. It's pink satin with a white rabbit on the back. Really beyond tasteless, but she didn't care. She loved it."

"That's 'cause Nick always calls her his Sunny Bunny," Amber added wistfully. "I bet she was wearing it that day."

After no one said anything for a few minutes, I decided to change the subject. "So what are you guys doing over winter break?"

"Avoiding our mothers," Gwen said, making a pained face. "They always try to volunteer us for Sparklefest slave duty."

I frowned. "Sparklefest?"

"A very dull and boring annual downtown tradition that starts a couple of days before Christmas," Tiffany said. "The shopkeepers and the mayor like drape the entire town in lights, and then they have a parade on Christmas Day and a bunch of old guys make speeches about the history of Lost Lake. At midnight they turn on all the lights in the park at once, which is the really big thing. They usually have some oldies band play down by the lake, too. It's mostly for the tourists, but we always have to go."

"The food is pretty good," Amber put in. "All the local restaurants and cafes set up booths, and it's become kind of a compet.i.tion to see who sells out first."

"I'm sure Mrs. Frost will give you that night off," Tiffany added. "That way you can enter the big relay race."

"Sorry, I don't run," I told her. "Unless I'm being chased."

She giggled. "It's not that kind of race. It's the final big thing they have the day after Christmas. They use horses and riders for the relay, out on the old track by the east side of the lake. It's supposed to date back to something that happened like a hundred years ago, when the founding fathers first settled here. Someone set fire to the town, and they had to send messengers on horseback to get help from the farmers before it burned down."

"Really." I felt a little shocked. "I guess it worked."

"Yeah, they saved the day and everyone's lives, so of course we have to reenact it every year." Tiffany faked a yawn and patted her mouth. "Ancient history, if you ask me. I'd much rather go to a dance."

"Yeah, like a winter formal. My older sister goes to one every year at her college," Amber said, and began describing the event.

I recalled the last dance I had gone to, the school Halloween dance that had changed everything. Tiffany and the other girls didn't remember that night, but I did. And I could never think about it at home, so all the details came rus.h.i.+ng back into my mind.

Wearing a red dress and dancing with my dark boy. You look like a grand d.u.c.h.ess.

Looking at the beautiful old ring in my hand, the ring that had brought us together. You're always with me.

Listening to someone I thought had been a friend scream at me. You hurt my Aaron.

Kneeling beside my dark boy, both of us bleeding. You have to stop me now, before I become a monster.

Telling him how I felt, how I had always felt from the night we met. I did mention that I'm in love with you, didn't I?

Standing up to my brother, Patrick, when it was over. When he found us together. I have the right to a normal life.

Seeing the anger, sadness and regret on Trick's face just before he wiped away my memories. I'm sorry, Catlyn.

Tiffany touched my arm. "You okay, Cat?"

"Yeah, just zoning out a little." I wasn't okay, and I wouldn't be until much later tonight when Tiffany, her friends, my brothers and the rest of the world were asleep. When I stopped being sister and friend and got to live my other life, my secret life, the one I could only live a few hours at a time, always in darkness. "I've got to go meet my brother. See you guys later."

I expected my brothers didn't think I could get the job working in town, but neither Trick nor Gray seemed surprised by the news. That night at dinner we talked about juggling ch.o.r.es and schedules, and I promised to keep up with my part of the housework.

Gray didn't cook, but unfortunately Trick tried to, which was why I usually made dinner for us. Since I would be at work now, I had been making up ahead of time big batches of pasta sauce, chili and other things that froze well. I'd put out whatever they wanted to defrost before I went to catch my bus, and by dinner time all they'd have to do would be warm it up.

"One thing I do need is a house key," I said as I pa.s.sed the chef's salad I'd made to Gray.

Trick looked up. "What for?"

"I'm taking the bus home," I reminded him. "I won't get back from work until after eleven. You guys will be asleep."

"I'll wait at the bus stop for you," Gray volunteered.

"You have to get up early to take care of the horses." I saw the way Trick was frowning. "The bus stop is only a two minute walk from the house. One minute if I run."

"I don't like the idea of you walking-or running-home alone that late at night." Trick turned to Gray. "I'll go to meet her at the bus stop tonight, and then we'll switch for her next s.h.i.+ft. Whoever stays home gets up with the horses."

Gray nodded.

"Nothing is going to happen to me." When neither of them reacted, I blew out a breath. "All right. Keep treating me like a helpless baby who can't even cross the street by herself."

"If we were doing that," Trick countered, "you wouldn't have this job at all."

He was right, and I hated him a little for it. "Fine. Whatever." I got up and took my plate over to the sink.

As far as my brothers knew, I had no memory of the first five months we'd lived in Lost Lake, or anything I had learned during that time. Because of this, and a bargain Trick had made to keep things that way, they thought they had nothing to worry about at all.

I didn't tell them I remembered everything because I needed them to go on believing that I was good old oblivious Catlyn. They trusted me now, and believed everything I told them. Especially when I said good-night to them at ten o'clock and went upstairs to go to bed.

Trick still checked on me occasionally without warning, so I did change into my pajamas, brushed my teeth and got under the covers. Sometimes I would read for a few minutes as I listened to the sound of Gray's footsteps as he went to the old garage that we'd converted into bedroom for him, or Trick pouring water into the coffee maker and the faint beeps as he set the automatic timer. Other nights I would just turn out the lights, roll onto my side, close my eyes and begin silently counting the seconds as they crawled by.

Tonight I heard the creak of the stairs under a heavy foot, but when my bedroom door opened a few inches I smelled sunlight, Gray's scent, not coffee, Trick's scent. He didn't come inside, but he did stand there watching me for a minute before he closed the door and went back downstairs.

Gray never checked on me, so this wasn't a good sign. Telling him the whole fake-crush thing about Sheriff Yamah had been a stupid stunt. I'd wanted him to be afraid, at least for a few minutes, but I'd only managed to make him suspicious.

Because of this, I waited an extra half-hour before I got up and changed into my riding clothes. I also didn't bother tip-toeing down the stairs but went to my window and opened it, taking a deep breath before I climbed over the sill and jumped to the ground.

If I'd been a normal girl, I'd have broken my legs. Instead I landed as silently as my four-legged namesake, straightening and holding still as I listened before I headed for the barn.

As always, Rika was the first one to look over the edge of her stall as I came in, but for once she seemed a little less hostile, and only snorted. Sali whickered to me, her big eyes s.h.i.+ning, and tried to walk out of the stall before I'd gotten a bridle on her.

"I know," I said, stroking the warm arch of her neck. "I'm impatient, too." I kept my voice low so as not to alarm the other horses, although the rest of our new stock weren't much interested in me. Flash ignored everyone but Gray, so only Trick's big white stallion Jupiter stuck his head out to give me a you-bad-girl glare.

Over the last couple of weeks I'd trained Sali to carry me on our midnight rides without a saddle or a bareback pad. It took some getting used to for both of us, but I found I actually preferred it. With nothing between us, she responded even faster to my body signals, and riding that way felt more natural to me. Sometimes I even felt like I became part of her, as if when we rode we somehow merged together.

Once we were clear of the barn and the stockyard, I leaned forward to whisper in her ear, "Take me to him, girl."

Sali probably didn't understand the words, but she knew what I wanted her to do whenever I said them, and took off. We both preferred to ride at a running walk, as hers was faster and smoother than any other breed's, but my own impatience got the better of me, and I urged her into a lope as we crossed the road and followed the winding trail into the dense, dark woods across from our farm.

The glow of a few candles lit the windows of the old manor house, and a big black stallion stood tethered outside. Prince turned his head and then shuffled around, his ears perking at the sight of Sali. She came up alongside him, touching his nose with hers before she stood still so I could dismount. Once I tied her beside him I gave both horses a pat and then walked over to the wide stone steps leading up to the front door, and the dark boy waiting there for me.

At five-foot-ten I loomed over most boys my age, but Jesse Raven stood a head taller. People would have called him lanky, at least until they saw him move; he had the slim, tough build of someone who had been riding horseback almost since he could walk. The paleness of his skin made his long, straight hair looked like polished black silk, and when he looked at me the moon threaded amethyst light through the dark strands. He had dark gray eyes that even in the shadows glittered like marcasite, and a face so beautiful sometimes it hurt me just to look at him.