Desires of the Dead
Page 66
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
She needed to get home. She needed to wait for Sara to call back, to tell her if what she suspected was true.
And she needed to deal with the fact that maybe Sara had been right after all, that maybe Violet could give people the answers they were looking for . . . even if they weren’t the ones they wanted to hear.
Chapter 26
Violet poured herself a cup of coffee as she waited for Jay to pick her up for school.
Her mom frowned at her as she carried a box of cereal to the table. “Rough night?”
“Something like that,” Violet answered vaguely.
Rough was an understatement. Violet had lain awake half the night, anxiously wondering when Sara—or Rafe—might call about her discovery behind Roger Hartman’s house.
Fortunately, since this body, for whatever reason, felt settled and at peace, Violet wasn’t plagued by the lingering discomfort she normally felt when she left a body behind. She was beginning to wonder if she’d ever fully understand her strange ability.
She pulled the cell phone from her pocket and checked it again. Still no messages.
“Well, you’ll be happy to know that your friend’s dad is stopping by today with all of the contact information for the cabin.” Her mom offered Violet the cereal. “You look like you could use a getaway right about now.”
Violet waved the box away as her stomach sank. With everything that had happened yesterday, she’d nearly overlooked the fact that they were supposed to leave tomorrow.
So much for that plan, she thought sourly. After what she’d discovered at Roger Hartman’s place, the last thing Mike and Megan’s family would need was a vacation.
On top of everything else, guilt now weighed her down. But until she heard from Sara, she decided it was best to keep up the pretense that everything was going ahead as scheduled.
She managed a weak smile, fake at best, as she downed the rest of her coffee. “I think I hear Jay,” she lied, giving her mom a quick kiss on the cheek and picking up her backpack. “I’ll see you after school.”
Violet hurried out the door and waited the last few minutes out in the driveway, letting the crisp winter air fill her lungs. And numb her thoughts.
Sometime during her third-period class, Violet felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. When she checked, she saw that she’d just missed a call from Sara. She told the teacher that she wasn’t feeling well and took a pass for the nurse’s office as she slipped into the quiet of the hallway.
She waited nervously for Sara to pick up on the other end, and when she did Sara got right to the point. “I’m sorry, Violet, it wasn’t what you thought. It was just a dog.”
And with those words, the chill from the echo was back. Violet wasn’t sure what to say. “Wh-what do you mean it was a dog?”
“I took a team to the Hartman place, and we found the body inside the tarp. It was a dog, a German shepherd. We haven’t been able to reach Roger Hartman yet, but I’m guessing he had something to do with it.”
Violet’s head was spinning; she was speechless. It was a dog buried beneath the tree?
Not Serena Russo . . .
Oh God, Violet moaned internally. She’d sent Sara, and who knew how many other people, out to Roger Hartman’s home looking for a body . . . a person’s body. Humiliation rushed over her. All of her good intentions were gone in an instant, all of her hopes of doing something positive shattered.
Violet took a deep breath. “Why do you think he had something to do with it?”
Sara didn’t hesitate to answer. “The dog didn’t die of natural causes. Its neck had been broken.”
Violet had her back pressed against the wall, and she leaned forward, one hand on her knee, the other gripping the phone to her ear. She just needed a moment to catch her breath, to gather her thoughts.
In her head, Violet pictured the little black cat lying in the box beside her car, its tiny neck broken.
She heard herself saying good-bye, her voice sounding detached, like it belonged to someone else. She waited there, alone in the silence of the hallway, until she felt the wooziness pass, until she felt steady enough to walk.
Violet thought she understood now why the body she’d discovered hadn’t called to her, insisting to be found. Someone—maybe Roger Hartman, even—had buried the dog.
Someone had given it a sense of closure.
She realized also that despite her embarrassment about sending Sara and the others on a wild-goose chase, there was a positive side to all of this.
Mike and Megan’s mother might still be alive.
Maybe she had just run away. That would be better, wouldn’t it? For them? That there was still a chance they could be reunited?
Violet put her phone away, since she was supposed to be at the nurse’s office and not making phone calls, before she headed back to class.
Maybe her mom had been right this morning. Maybe she really did need a getaway after all.
Chapter 27
The next morning came quickly, and, as usual, Chelsea had been right. Violet was going to the cabin with her friends.
Although she was still having doubts, second-guessing her decision, the wheels were already set in motion, and Jay would be there soon to pick her up, along with Chelsea, Mike, and Claire.
Jules had opted out of this particular trip, declaring that she’d rather jump into a shark-infested pool wearing only a meat bikini than subject herself to a weekend of watching Chelsea gush over Mike. That, and Jules didn’t really like the snow . . . unless there was a board attached to her feet and she was hurtling down a mountain at Mach speed. Snowmen and hot cocoa weren’t exactly her thing.
And she needed to deal with the fact that maybe Sara had been right after all, that maybe Violet could give people the answers they were looking for . . . even if they weren’t the ones they wanted to hear.
Chapter 26
Violet poured herself a cup of coffee as she waited for Jay to pick her up for school.
Her mom frowned at her as she carried a box of cereal to the table. “Rough night?”
“Something like that,” Violet answered vaguely.
Rough was an understatement. Violet had lain awake half the night, anxiously wondering when Sara—or Rafe—might call about her discovery behind Roger Hartman’s house.
Fortunately, since this body, for whatever reason, felt settled and at peace, Violet wasn’t plagued by the lingering discomfort she normally felt when she left a body behind. She was beginning to wonder if she’d ever fully understand her strange ability.
She pulled the cell phone from her pocket and checked it again. Still no messages.
“Well, you’ll be happy to know that your friend’s dad is stopping by today with all of the contact information for the cabin.” Her mom offered Violet the cereal. “You look like you could use a getaway right about now.”
Violet waved the box away as her stomach sank. With everything that had happened yesterday, she’d nearly overlooked the fact that they were supposed to leave tomorrow.
So much for that plan, she thought sourly. After what she’d discovered at Roger Hartman’s place, the last thing Mike and Megan’s family would need was a vacation.
On top of everything else, guilt now weighed her down. But until she heard from Sara, she decided it was best to keep up the pretense that everything was going ahead as scheduled.
She managed a weak smile, fake at best, as she downed the rest of her coffee. “I think I hear Jay,” she lied, giving her mom a quick kiss on the cheek and picking up her backpack. “I’ll see you after school.”
Violet hurried out the door and waited the last few minutes out in the driveway, letting the crisp winter air fill her lungs. And numb her thoughts.
Sometime during her third-period class, Violet felt her phone vibrating in her pocket. When she checked, she saw that she’d just missed a call from Sara. She told the teacher that she wasn’t feeling well and took a pass for the nurse’s office as she slipped into the quiet of the hallway.
She waited nervously for Sara to pick up on the other end, and when she did Sara got right to the point. “I’m sorry, Violet, it wasn’t what you thought. It was just a dog.”
And with those words, the chill from the echo was back. Violet wasn’t sure what to say. “Wh-what do you mean it was a dog?”
“I took a team to the Hartman place, and we found the body inside the tarp. It was a dog, a German shepherd. We haven’t been able to reach Roger Hartman yet, but I’m guessing he had something to do with it.”
Violet’s head was spinning; she was speechless. It was a dog buried beneath the tree?
Not Serena Russo . . .
Oh God, Violet moaned internally. She’d sent Sara, and who knew how many other people, out to Roger Hartman’s home looking for a body . . . a person’s body. Humiliation rushed over her. All of her good intentions were gone in an instant, all of her hopes of doing something positive shattered.
Violet took a deep breath. “Why do you think he had something to do with it?”
Sara didn’t hesitate to answer. “The dog didn’t die of natural causes. Its neck had been broken.”
Violet had her back pressed against the wall, and she leaned forward, one hand on her knee, the other gripping the phone to her ear. She just needed a moment to catch her breath, to gather her thoughts.
In her head, Violet pictured the little black cat lying in the box beside her car, its tiny neck broken.
She heard herself saying good-bye, her voice sounding detached, like it belonged to someone else. She waited there, alone in the silence of the hallway, until she felt the wooziness pass, until she felt steady enough to walk.
Violet thought she understood now why the body she’d discovered hadn’t called to her, insisting to be found. Someone—maybe Roger Hartman, even—had buried the dog.
Someone had given it a sense of closure.
She realized also that despite her embarrassment about sending Sara and the others on a wild-goose chase, there was a positive side to all of this.
Mike and Megan’s mother might still be alive.
Maybe she had just run away. That would be better, wouldn’t it? For them? That there was still a chance they could be reunited?
Violet put her phone away, since she was supposed to be at the nurse’s office and not making phone calls, before she headed back to class.
Maybe her mom had been right this morning. Maybe she really did need a getaway after all.
Chapter 27
The next morning came quickly, and, as usual, Chelsea had been right. Violet was going to the cabin with her friends.
Although she was still having doubts, second-guessing her decision, the wheels were already set in motion, and Jay would be there soon to pick her up, along with Chelsea, Mike, and Claire.
Jules had opted out of this particular trip, declaring that she’d rather jump into a shark-infested pool wearing only a meat bikini than subject herself to a weekend of watching Chelsea gush over Mike. That, and Jules didn’t really like the snow . . . unless there was a board attached to her feet and she was hurtling down a mountain at Mach speed. Snowmen and hot cocoa weren’t exactly her thing.