Don't Breathe a Word (14 page)

So Phoebe stopped at the store to pick up ingredients for spaghetti and salad, one of Sam’s favorite meals. She threw a bottle of merlot into her cart, a couple of gold candles that seemed like good luck. She’d make a romantic dinner, give him a little wine, and tell him about the baby.

When she finished shopping, she was starving, so she went through the McDonald’s drive-through and scarfed down a quarter-pounder with cheese, fries, and a chocolate shake. It seemed crazy to eat when she was about to make dinner, but all she’d had for lunch were some saltines and a Granny Smith apple. She had to find a way to do better—she was eating for two, after all. Maybe she should have picked up some prenatal vitamins at the store.

She sat in the parking lot finishing the last of her shake with the motor running. Sam hated McDonald’s and was a vegetarian for the most part, so Phoebe kept these little trips to herself. She was always careful to throw away all the packaging so she wouldn’t get a lecture about how she was supporting an evil corporate empire intent on poisoning the world. When Sam did eat meat, he insisted it be organic, local, cruelty-free (a term that made no sense to Phoebe . . . they’d killed the animal, right? How was that not cruel?).

Sam’s truck wasn’t in the driveway. Balancing grocery bags, she unlocked the door and carried everything in. The answering machine was blinking and she pushed
PLAY
, still balancing the groceries in her arms. The first message was from Sam. The tree service he worked for was clearing a lot and he said he’d be home late.

The machine beeped a second time and Franny’s voice came on: “Hey there, Bee. I just wanted to tell you I love you and I’m thinking of you. If you need anything, just call. Oh, and I thought of something you might be interested in. There’s this girl, Becca Reynolds. She was in the same class as me and Sammy. I was kinda friends with her, but mostly because I felt sorry for her. Anyway, she and her brother lived two houses down from Sam and Lisa. They hung out a lot. They moved away just after Lisa disappeared, down to Massachusetts, I think. Anyway, I just ran into Becca the other day—she’s moved back to Vermont and is working in the floral department at Price Chopper over in St. Johnsbury. I thought maybe you and Sam might want to talk to her. Who knows—she might remember something from the time Lisa went missing. As I recall, she was all into the fairy stuff, went around telling everyone that she’d seen the Fairy King herself. Anyway . . . I hope everything goes well tonight. I know it will. Let’s get together soon, huh? Maybe Friday after work? Let me know.”

The third message was from Evie.

“Sam?” said a quavering voice into the machine. “They were here. My place is trashed. They hit me over the head. I’m afraid they’ll be back. I don’t know what to do. If you get this, please—” There was a little wheezing breath, then the line went dead.

Phoebe dropped the grocery bags, grabbed the phone, and punched in Evie’s number. She let it ring twelve times before giving up and trying to get Sam on his cell. It went right to voice mail. “Damn!” she said. Sam had either left his phone in his truck or was out where there was no service. She slammed the phone down and scrawled a quick note to Sam.

Gone to rescue Evie.

(Play phone message)

Love, Bee

Chapter 16

Lisa

June 8, Fifteen Years Ago

A
light bobbed down the path through the woods.

“Lisa? Lisa! Where are you?”

“Here,” she called, her voice small and flat. She clung to the damp stone wall of the cellar hole, watched as the light moved closer.

She’d been unable to move out of the hole since hearing the scream, terrified of what might be out there. But now they were coming to rescue her.

Suddenly the light was in her face. Bright. Blinding. Interrogation light. She put up her hands to shade her eyes.

“Are you okay?” It was Evie’s voice, wheezing and frantic. “We fell asleep. God, I’m so sorry! I heard you scream. That’s what woke me. What happened? Jesus, get the light off her face, Sam.”

Lisa listened to Evie try to catch her breath—she must have run all the way down from the yard.

“It wasn’t me,” Lisa said, putting her hands back down. She looked up and saw Evie and Sam at the edge of the cellar hole, two pale faces peering down, making her feel like a tiger in a pit at the zoo. “I didn’t scream.” Lisa saw that Evie had her hunting knife clenched in her hand.

“Well, who the hell did, then?” Evie asked, sheathing the knife.

“I don’t know. I couldn’t tell what it came from,” Lisa admitted.

She squinted past her brother and cousin, scanning the dark woods for any sign of movement.

“Fisher, maybe,” Sammy said. “Or an owl.”

“That was no damn owl,” Evie said, sounding a little spooked as she looked around the woods, then back down at Lisa. “Come on. Let’s bug out. Go back to the house.” She held out her hand.

“What’s that?” Sam asked. The beam of the flashlight was pointed at a little nest of cut ferns down in the cellar hole, right beside Lisa. In it, like a strange, misshapen egg, was a cloth bundle wound round and round with string.

“Give me the light!” Lisa said, reaching up.

She scanned the corner and saw that the plate of sweets was empty, the cup drained.

“Damn it!” she snapped. How could she have missed it? She couldn’t believe she’d let herself fall asleep.

She turned the light back down on the ferns and picked up the bundle. The cloth was worn and dirty—white or beige once, now stained brown. The string was thin and waxy.

“Bring it up here,” Evie instructed, holding out her hand to help Lisa out of the hole. “Lemme see,” Evie said, grabbing for the bundle, but Lisa held it tight.

“No,” she said. “I’ll open it.”

Tucking the flashlight between her tilted head and shoulder, Lisa went to work untying the string. Evie moved so that she was toe to toe with Lisa, her head bumping Lisa’s as they both looked down.

“Careful,” Evie warned. Lisa stopped what she was doing, suddenly frightened by what might be inside. More teeth? Some other body part?

What had the scream in the woods been? Was whatever it was still out there, watching?

Pushing the questions from her head, she went back to work untying the strange egg-shaped bundle.

Lisa finally got the string off and slowly opened the stained, worn cloth. Inside was a round silver medal with the words
SAINT CHRISTOPHER PROTECT US
around the edge. In the center was a picture of a man with a staff and beard carrying a child on his back.

“Is he stealing the kid?” Sammy asked, leaning in for a closer look.

“No, dummy,” Evie said. “That’s Christ. Look at the halo. He’s carrying Christ across a river. Don’t you know the story?”

Sammy shook his head.

“This guy, Saint Christopher, he’s the patron saint of travel. You’re supposed to pray to him and stuff when you take a trip. Carrying this is supposed to bring good luck if you get on a plane or a boat or something.”

“How do you know all this?” Lisa asked. No one in their family was even slightly religious. When she’d once asked if she and Sammy had been baptized, her parents had laughed like it was the most ridiculous question in the world. When she told them that Gerald and Pinkie said she wouldn’t get into heaven if she wasn’t baptized, they laughed harder still.

“Not everyone believes in God and heaven,” Da had explained. “The people who do tend to think that they’re right and anyone with different beliefs is wrong.”

“Well then, what do
we
believe?” Lisa asked. Da looked at Lisa’s mom, who smiled.

“That organized religion is the opiate of the masses,” her mom said.

“Huh?” Lisa said.

“That people should be educated enough to make their own choices,” Da said.

Lisa’s mom snorted. “Right,” she said. “I’m sure that’ll happen any day now, honey. And the sky will rain pink lemonade and we’ll have snow made of big, puffy marshmallows.”

L
isa looked down at Saint Christopher, then at Evie. “Well?” she said. “What makes you an expert on saints all of a sudden?” She hated when Evie knew something she didn’t. Lisa was the one who read all the time. Evie got F’s in school, never went to the library.

“I go to church sometimes,” Evie said at last, looking shy about it, like it was a secret and she shouldn’t have told.

Lisa stared up at her, perplexed. She didn’t know what was weirder—the idea of Evie going to church or the fact that Evie had kept this a secret from her.

“What, with your mom?” Lisa asked.

“No,” Evie said. “Don’t say anything to her, huh? She’d kill me. I go by myself. There’s one about two miles from our house. Sometimes I get on my bike and ride down. They have doughnuts after.”

“So what, you’re getting in good with God for doughnuts?”

As soon as she said it, she knew she shouldn’t have. She was just pissed that Evie had kept a secret.

“Forget it,” Evie said. “Let’s just get back to the house.” She turned away and started toward the hill through the darkness. Lisa and Sam followed, Lisa holding the flashlight in one hand, the Saint Christopher medal in the other.

“Well,” Sammy said, as they walked along. “One thing’s for sure—if the medal is supposed to protect you when you travel, it was found by the wrong person. Lisa never goes anywhere.”

At that moment, from the dark woods off to the left, came another voice, a girl’s voice edged with panic.

“Did—did you see him?” They all froze.

Lisa pointed the beam of the flashlight toward the voice and spotted Pinkie, partially hidden behind a tree.

“See who?” Lisa asked.

“The bogeyman,” Pinkie said.

“What do you mean?” Evie asked, moving slowly toward Pinkie, who was cowering behind the tree.

“You stay away from me,” Pinkie said. “You busted Gerald’s arm, you know? We were at the hospital for hours. My mom’s real pissed—she had to miss work and everything. She might get a lawyer and sue your asses off.”

Evie stopped. Took a step back.

“Becca,” Sam said, stepping close enough to touch her, “what are you doing out here? What did you see?”

“I wanted to know. I see you down here all the time. I wanted to know what the big secret was. I watched tonight. I was there at the edge of your yard. I saw Evie go into the woods. Then Lisa. So I waited. Then I came down and saw.”

“Saw what?” Sam asked.

“I’ll take you to where he was,” Pinkie said, pushing off from the tree and walking off to the left, deeper into the woods. They walked in silence for a few minutes, following Pinkie.

There was light up ahead.

“I don’t like this,” Evie said.

Lisa reached out and took Evie’s hand, which was cool and clammy. Evie’s breath whistled in her chest.

Becca led them to a clearing. A pink flashlight was lying on the forest floor casting a beam of dim light, the batteries low.

“He was right here,” Pinkie said, swiveling her head around, squinting into shadows. She reached and picked up her flashlight, giving it a shake, trying to make it brighter.

“Who?” Sammy asked.

“The bogeyman.”

“What did he look like?” Evie asked.

Pinkie was silent a moment, thinking. “Like a man made of shadows,” she said at last.

“What about his face?” Sammy asked.

“He didn’t have a face,” Pinkie said.

Lisa shivered.

“No face,” Evie said. “Right . . .”

“But he was wearing a cap,” Pinkie said.

“A cap?” Sammy asked.

“Yeah, you know, like a baseball cap.”

Evie laughed. “The bogeyman’s a baseball fan, huh? What, does he play shortstop?”

“I know what I saw,
Stevie
,” Pinkie spat. “I screamed, dropped my light, and ran away as fast as I could.”

Lisa nodded, relieved to finally know where the horrible scream had come from.

“Know what I think?” Evie asked. “I think you’re making all this crap up.”

Pinkie didn’t say anything. She picked at her arm, making one of the mosquito bites bleed.

Lisa looked away. Something on the ground behind Sammy caught her eye and she walked slowly over to it.

“Lisa?” Evie called as Lisa moved away from the group, casting her flashlight at the object on the ground. “You find something?”

“No,” Lisa said, her voice sounding small as she forced the lie out. She turned out the flashlight and bent down to pick up the faded, paint-splattered object in the grass. She’d know it anywhere. Lisa hid it under her sweatshirt and walked back to the others, heart racing.

“You okay?” Evie asked, putting a hand on Lisa’s shoulder, making her jump.

She nodded. “I just want to go home.”

“You got it,” said Evie, glancing around the woods. “Let’s bug out before Pinkie the Spy here thinks up any more crazy bullshit.”

Lisa followed them, crossing her arms over the object in her sweatshirt.

It was Da’s Red Sox hat.