Devoured (7 page)

He takes my other hand and leans in closer to me, making me catch my breath for a second. I feel connected and close to him. I close my eyes. I see the girl and force myself to really look at her. Her outfit is different from anything that was on the rack in the costume room. The blouse, soaked in blood, is very detailed with eyelet trim and embroidered flowers across the top edge, instead of the garish red satin trim on the costumes.

Part of the blouse is unlaced and pulled aside to expose the jagged hole in her chest. I quickly move up to her face and gasp for a second, thinking it’s me, but it’s just a girl with dark hair like mine. The pale skin on her cheeks is spattered with blood, and her lips are parted—with more blood trickling down from one corner. Her blue eyes stare blankly up at the sky. I look away from her face and see the leaves and dirt of the forest floor marked with crimson.

I shake my head to erase the image and push up from the bench to stand at the rail of the gazebo. Tears sting my eyes as I look out on the gardens, trying to fill my mind with images of flowers instead of the dead girl’s stare. “
Why
would Remy show me
that
?”

The bench creaks, and Luke stands next to me, exhaling loudly. “Wow. That was the last thing I was expecting. I’ve seen some pretty weird stuff before, but …”

“I probably should’ve warned you.”

“Yeah, a little heads-up might’ve been nice. I gotta say, I’m surprised how well you’re keeping it together. I would’ve figured something like that might have you a little more freaked out.”

My eyes follow a butterfly flitting around in front of us, and I shrug. “Telling myself everything’s A-OK—no matter how freaky it gets—has been my mantra since Remy came back just after the accident. She was lying in her bed right next to mine, singing.

“For a second I thought the crash was just a dream and Remy was still alive and my dad wasn’t in the hospital. I was so happy, I called out for my parents. Only, my mom came in
alone
. She turned on my lights, and that’s when I found out I could see
through
Remy—and my mom couldn’t see her at all. My mom kept telling me I was dreaming and to wake up, but I still remember she looked at me like I was crazy when I insisted Remy was in her bed.

“After that, plus some forced therapy, I got used to pretending Remy wasn’t there, but it’s getting harder to do now. In the past, she’d only appear every few months, and most of the time she didn’t say anything, but now she’s in haunting overdrive.”

Tears sting my eyes. “I’m getting scared, and I don’t want to do this alone anymore—that’s why I came here today. I mean, when I found out you could see her and talk to her, it was
such
a relief, because in the back of my mind I always wondered if maybe I was crazy.”

Luke reaches out and brushes a tear from my cheek. “Hey, it’s okay. I’ll help you figure this out. And do you want to know something?”

I sniff. “What?”

“It was a big relief knowing
you
could see Remy too. I haven’t been able to talk to anyone about this stuff since Kayla died.”

“
Died?
I thought she was just missing. Ari didn’t say she … you know …”

Luke walks back over to the bench and sits. He leans back and turns his gaze to the gardens, looking lost and sad.

“Ari doesn’t know. The cops don’t know. But the night she disappeared I felt like she was in the house with me. I felt her wanting me to take care of Ari for her. And then there was nothing—she was gone. I’ve tried calling her back, but Kayla knows enough about ghosts to not want to stick around. She moved on—she’s at peace.”

I walk over and sit down next him on the bench and reach out for his hand. “I’m sorry.”

He leans into me. My heart skips a beat as our shoulders touch, and I can’t help thinking I shouldn’t be holding his hand and sitting this close to him. But I don’t want to stop either.

“I just wish I knew
what
happened to her.”

“Yeah,” I whisper. “I’m a little surprised she’d come back and be worried about Ari, though. I know her home life isn’t perfect, but she seems pretty strong.”

Luke pulls away from me and stretches his long legs out in front of him. “Ari’s complicated. She’s got a lot to give, but she needs more in return. I think it’s because her mother passed away when she was little and her dad married Patty. As you said, things are not exactly stable at that house—probably worse than you can imagine—but I owe them big-time.

“After Ari met Kayla on the playground when they were little, the Roys took us under their wings, so to speak. They’ve helped us out a lot over the years. Paid for our tuition at school—even painting lessons when I was younger. So when things are rough at home, I try to keep Ari on an even keel to pay them back—for Kayla.”

Luke to the rescue,
I almost say out loud. As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, he obviously inherited Nona’s desire to help people. I wonder if Luke realizes Ari is in love with him. It’s not hard imagining why.

As soon as the words form in my head, I push them out. I am not like Samantha; I don’t steal boyfriends—or Ari’s potential boyfriend. And I need to remember that the feeling I get from Luke is just part of a job, whether or not he gets paid for it like Nona.

Luke clears his throat. “But back to that girl—it looked like her heart …”

“Was missing. I thought maybe she was in one of the costumes from Land of Enchantment, but don’t you think her clothes look old-fashioned, like maybe it happened a
really
long time ago?”

“Yeah, they don’t make clothes like that anymore.”

I nod. “Thank God for that. Well, not that she had her chest carved open, but seeing as I just signed on to play Snow White, it’s a relief to know that this was something that happened in the past and not one of Remy’s scary-things-to-come visions.”

“Ghosts can travel the time streams—they have access to all kinds of things in the past, present, and future, but I don’t know why Remy chose
that
particular scene to show you, except the girl kind of looked like you.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, only her eyes were blue and mine are—”

“Brown.”

“Yeah,” I say, liking that he noticed what color my eyes are. I picture Nicki smirking at me and saying, “Did someone forget they have a boyfriend?” again.

No, I tell myself, but there’s something really nice about being able to talk openly about my sister—something I can’t do with Nicki or Ryan.

I turn to Luke and inch closer to him. “So what about Remy? Is there anything you can do?”

“Nona said Remy was looking for something, and that she was scared. So the first thing to do is figure out why. Was there something she always carried with her—a doll or even a blanket?”

“Can’t you just ask her?”

Luke gives me a weary smile. “I don’t know, that vision kind of knocked me on my ass.” He gives me a wink and a crooked smile. “I guess I’m no better than Nona. I asked for it. But I’ve never actually tried to talk to a ghost—they usually come to me first.”

I smile back at him and try to ignore the way he makes my stomach flutter.
Ryan,
I scream in my head.

“So could Remy be looking for a toy or something?” he asks.

“No, she actually made fun of me because I had a stuffed bear that I took everywhere—until it got left in the car after the accident. I don’t know what happened to him.” I sigh, knowing this isn’t the time to lament the loss of Mr. B-bear. “There was this dress she liked, but …” Tears well up in my eyes again. “But she was buried in it.

“Could she be looking for my mom? I told my mom Remy was in the house last night. I told Remy to go to her, hoping my mom would finally see her.”

“And?”

“And nothing, other than my mom thinks I’m some kind of sociopath who gets off causing her mental anguish. I just don’t understand why I can see Remy and she can’t. And it’s weird, because Remy doesn’t seem to see her either—or my dad. She was even asking where my dad was and …”

My eyes grow wide. “Oh my God! She was asking me where our dad was yesterday. She was right in the room with him, but it was like she didn’t know. He never woke up after the accident—he’s on life support. Could she be looking for him? Waiting for him before she can, you know, move on?”

Luke nods, looking excited. “That might be it. He might be in some sort of limbo and she needs to connect with him before she can move on.”

I purse my lips as tears pool in my eyes. “My dad was her favorite—she and my mom were always butting heads.” I look at Luke. “That’s it. I know it. She’s been waiting for him all this time.”

“It makes sense; that could be what’s keeping her here.”

I jump up, wiping my eyes. “I’ve got to talk to my mom.”

“Wait! What’re you going to do? You can’t just ask your mother to … you know …”

“I have to. It’s time Remy and my father found some peace.”

SIX

Before you ask, I don’t want to talk about it,” I say as I get into Nicki’s car. “But thanks for picking me up.”

Nicki raises one eyebrow. “Come on, you have to tell me. She hasn’t sent you to Dr. Macardo in years.”

“It’s none of your business,” I snap, and immediately I feel guilty. “I’m sorry. Maybe I should just walk home.” I put my hand on the door, and Nicki pulls on my arm. I let go and slump down in the seat.

“Come on, Megan, what’s going on?”

I shake my head and look away, staring at the North Conway Mental Health Clinic sign. How do I tell Nicki I want to pull the plug on my own father?

Dr. Macardo did agree that thinking about pulling the plug was normal. Telling my mother Remy was in the room was apparently another matter entirely, though. Of course, I’d like Dr. Macardo to spend some time at my house observing my mother, and then see who should get the passive-aggressive label he tossed around numerous times during our session.

A half smile curls my lips. At least he convinced Mom to make a session for herself. I wonder if Dr. Macardo will have Mom draw some family pictures with his stupid box of broken crayons. Maybe then Mom would finally come to grips with the fact that she shut down and left me after the accident, and that she’s not the only one who misses Dad and Remy.

“Okay,” I say finally. I let out a long sigh and brace myself for Nicki’s reaction. “I asked my mother what she thought about taking my dad off the machines.” I pause, hating what comes next. “And she thought I needed to talk to Dr. Macardo about why I wanted to
murder
my own father.”

Nicki gasps, and I’m glad I left out the part about Remy. “Would-be killer” sounds so much better than “crazy psychopath who also sees ghosts.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m a monster—Charles Manson Jr.”

“God, Megan. No.” I turn to her and she opens her arms and I let her hug me. “I’ve … I’ve thought about that too, you know—the machines. Especially after the last time I went with you to the nursing home. I just didn’t want to say anything because we’ve never really talked about
that
, and I didn’t know how you felt.”

I still don’t know exactly how I feel about it. After being with Luke I was so sure it was the right thing to do for Dad
and
Remy. But after seeing the horror on Mom’s face, I started second-guessing myself. Is it really murder?

But it seemed like Dr. Macardo totally understood. I did my homework and I know the statistics. The chance of recovery after six months in a vegetative state is slim to none. The rare instances get a lot of press, but with six months being the standard cutoff, where does that leave Dad after ten years?

Maybe getting my head shrunk today wasn’t such a bad idea after all. If anything, Dr. Marcado’s not judging me harshly made me feel slightly less monsterish.

Nicki holds me tight and the tears come again. “He’s never getting better—the doctors keep telling her that. All of the tests prove there’s no brain activity, but his eyes fluttered open that
one
time right after the crash, and she thinks he could wake up still.”

I pull away and look out at the office sign. “And maybe she’s right, it happens, but when I saw my dad yesterday, I just knew he’s not there anymore. I just knew he’s not going to wake up, and now she hates me more than ever.”

“Hey,” Nicki says. “Your mom doesn’t hate you—”

“Oh, yes, she does! Maybe she didn’t hate me before, maybe it was more indifference, but you should see the way she looks at me now. She
hates
me.”

“She’s scared. It’s a huge, hard decision to make, and—”

“And she said she’s not gonna do it. Ever. He’s going to keep hanging on, wasting away more and more.” Leaving Remy alone.

“Give her some time to think about it—cool off. It’s not like it’s an easy decision to make.”

“So what does that say about me?”

She squeezes my hand. “That you know this isn’t what your dad would’ve wanted. Would you want to live like that?”

I shake my head.

“Look, why don’t you spend the night at my house tonight? That’ll give both of you a break.”

I sniff and look away from her. “Um, actually, Ari called and asked if I wanted to hang out.”

Nicki starts the car. “Oh, why didn’t you have
Ari
pick you up then?”

“Because you already said you would!”

“I thought you might need someone to talk to, but you and Ari can have a nice chat about all of this.” Nicki puts the car in reverse, and then pulls out of the parking space a little too fast.

“Nicki, it’s not like that, and I don’t want to talk to Ari about this stuff. She just sounded lonely. I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. And when I told her you were picking me up, she said she’d
love
for you to come too. I only said yes because I thought you’d be with me.”

Nicki gives me an incredulous look. “I don’t for one second believe Ari wants me to come over. You should’ve seen her staring daggers at me at the tryouts when the new director clapped after my audition.”

“Seriously, she told me to ask you over. I was talking to her when you pulled up. She said her pool is open—and heated. And get this, she told me to tell you they have a movie-viewing room and a bunch of bootlegged recordings of Broadway shows—shows that were never supposed to be filmed.”

Nicki turns to me quickly with one eyebrow raised again. “Like what?”

“I didn’t ask—that’s more your deal—but she
obviously
only mentioned it because she wanted you to come. And Luke said Ari is kind of complicated, so she—”

“Oh,”
Nicki says, drawing out the word. “And when were you talking to
Luke
?”

My cheeks burn. “I … just … kind of ran into him—an out-of-the-blue kind of thing.”

Nicki rolls her eyes. “Uh-huh. Good thing you and Ryan will be working closely this summer.”

“I’ll have you know Ryan and I have our summer completely planned. When we’re not at Land of Enchantment, we’re going to be hiking the Presidential Range. Well, we’ve started with some of the smaller mountains to work up to the big guns, but we have a book where we can check off each hike, and I started a scrapbook with pictures of us at the summits.”

Nicki yawns. “Scrapbook? Must be love. Anyway, someone on this Broadway message board said there’s a bootlegged copy of
Dirty Rotten Scoundrels
making the rounds. I wonder if Ari has that. I’d love to see Norbert Leo Butz.”

“Norbert Leo
Butz
?”

“Don’t let the name fool you, the man is a comedic genius—a genius with a voice to die for.” Nicki glances down at the center console, grabs her CD carrier, and tosses it over to me. “See if you can find the soundtrack— it’s hilarious.”

“I take it this means you’ve changed your mind about going to Ari’s?”

She smiles at me. “Sure, let’s get our suits and head over. I’m not sure I’ll go swimming, though.”

“It’ll be just us girls,” I say, knowing Nicki feels overexposed in a bathing suit.

“We’ll see.”

Nicki and I stand on Ari’s front steps, staring at the door knocker—a tarnished brass rabbit with an arrow through its chest. My hand is poised over the knocker part, which is shaped in the form of a bow with the string pulled back in a wide arc.

“I can’t do it,” I say, pulling my hand back.

“Yeah, that’s more than a little disturbing,” Nicki whispers.

“Let’s just ring the bell again.” I push the button, and the seemingly endless chimes begin again. “Someone’s
got
to hear that.”

Nicki cocks her head and examines the rabbit. “Where would a person even find a knocker like that? Creep and Barrel?” She grimaces and pushes the bell again.

“I’m coming!” a voice yells from inside.

“That sounds like Ari’s stepmother,” I say in a hushed voice. “Brace yourself.”

The door flies open and Miss Patty gawks at us. I force myself to keep my smile steady as I take Patty in. She’s forgotten to draw on one of her eyebrows, and her mascara is smudged and gathered in the creases under her eyes. She’s wearing a pink velour jumpsuit that’s a little too snug across her stomach, and several of her hair extensions are dangling by their clips.

“Morgan!” she croaks. She wobbles a bit, and then steadies herself by grabbing the doorframe. She squints and leans toward me, alcohol burning on her breath. “No, it’s Megan,” she says, giving me a wink. “I never forget an enchanted team member.”

“I’ll bet,” I say, trying not to stare at her one eyebrow.

I guess she has the right to do whatever she wants after business hours, but hearing her slur her words and watching her clutch the doorframe in order to hold herself up is a stark contrast to the overly bubbly woman I interviewed with. “Ari invited us over. This is Nicki—she’s not an enchanted team member.”

Miss Patty stumbles back a few steps and opens her arms wide. “Well, let me welcome you to our humble abode.”

We step in and it’s obvious there’s nothing humble about this place. Marble staircase, crystal chandeliers—it’s like walking into Cinderella’s palace at Land of Enchantment, but all of this stuff looks real.

“Deborah!” Miss Patty screeches. Nicki and I jump and exchange looks. “Deborah!”

A small woman with gray hair done up in a tight knot and wearing a maid’s uniform hurries down the hallway toward us. “Yes, Miss?”

“Where’s Ari?”

“Last I saw her she was up in the study.”

Miss Patty jerks her head toward us. “Oh, well, Ari’s always got her nose in a book.” She chews on her lip, nibbling off what’s left of her hot pink lipstick, and then turns back to Deborah. “Why don’t you show these girls to the entertainment room? I’d better find Ari myself.”

“Certainly, Miss.” Deborah gives us a weary smile. “Right this way, ladies.” She leads us down the long hall and into a large room with dark wood-paneled walls. “Make yourselves comfortable and I’ll get you some iced tea.”

“Thanks,” I say, thinking it would suck to be a maid here with people barking orders.

After Deborah leaves, Nicki twirls a finger at the side of her head. “Ari’s stepmom is craaazy!” she says. “And apparently cocktail hour comes way earlier here than at my house.”

I nod. “Told you things weren’t all ‘happily ever after’ at Casa Roy.”

“And look at this room,” she says.

I walk in a circle, taking it in. Leather couches, ginormous flat-screen TV, shelves lined with DVDs and old VHS tapes, tapestries depicting various hunting scenes, and a multitude of taxidermic animal heads staring around the room with blank glass eyes. “Decorating with dead things— very classy.”

Nicki walks up to three bear heads mounted in a row on the wall, their mouths frozen in never-ending snarls. “So this is what happened to the Three Bears. Wouldn’t Martha Stewart have a seizure if she saw these hanging on the wall?”

“Some dead relative killed them in Germany—Black Forest. Hunting was big back then for the aristocracy.”

I jump and turn around. Ari is standing in the doorway with her arms folded across her chest, eyes narrowed, staring coldly at me. “Glad you could make it,
Nicki
,” she says, her eyes still focused on me.

My face flushes as Ari’s eyes continue to bore into me with such intense scrutiny that I immediately regret feeling sorry for her and agreeing to come over. “Uh, hey, Ari,” I say softly, wishing she’d stop looking at me like that.

She saunters into the room, running her fingers along the edge of a leather couch laden with animal pelts. She stops a few feet away from me and plops down in an overstuffed chair. “So,
Megan
, what’s up?” Her lips turn up ever so slightly to make a tight smile.

“Um, up?” I stammer. “Nothing’s up, we just came over to see you—you know, you called and, uh …” I give Nicki a sideways look and see she’s just as puzzled by Ari’s ice-queen act as I am.

“Hey, did you look over all of our music yet?” Nicki asks, coming to my rescue. “At first I was worried all the focus on old jazz might not pull in the tourist crowds, but after I’ve listened to the songs a few times, I’m excited. You know I love Broadway, but this will be a nice change.”

“Yeah, and lucky you getting to sing ‘Someone to Watch Over Me’ all by yourself.”