Don't Fear the Reaper (13 page)

Banning didn’t say a word. He sat and listened, truly listened. He didn’t look at me like I was some weak or hysterical young girl. I turned my head, fearful I’d explode into more tears if I met his gaze. I listened to the splatter of rain against the windows for a few more moments, then swiped at my tears.

Banning didn’t move a muscle.

I took a deep breath. It’d make telling him what happened the night Jordan died much easier.

“Even when we had other friends, we remained each other’s best friend,” I began. “I remember when Jordan and I were about eight or so. Our babysitter let us stay up and watch a creepy movie with her. It didn’t bother me as much since I closed my eyes, stuck my fingers in my ears and hummed whenever I thought the scary parts were coming. But Jordan watched the whole thing. When we went to bed later, she couldn’t sleep. After Mom and Dad went to bed, I crept into her room and slept with her.”

The memory made me smile through my tears. “Mom would’ve been furious that we’d seen that movie, so we kept it as our secret. When Jordan needed to go to the bathroom, I got up and walked across the room to the light switch so she wouldn’t have to be afraid. I was sure the monster would get me at any moment, but better me than Jordan. I checked under the bed and the closet for monsters. For years, I considered myself Jordan’s protector.”

My smile faded. I wished that I didn’t have to carry the next memory with me for the rest of eternity. “The night she died—I should have stopped her. It didn’t feel right. It felt bad, like I could sense everything that would happen. It felt as real as those nights when I walked across a pitch-black room to turn on the light for her. In the end, I failed to protect her from the biggest monster of all.”

I almost hugged Banning for being there, for staying perfectly still and quiet, listening as the words poured from me like tears.

“I’m responsible for my sister’s death.”

There was no other way to do it, no other way to explain my guilt, so I took a deep breath and went straight into it.

“Jordan had been seeing Pete for a couple of months. No one else knew about the relationship but me,” I said. “He was older, an instructor at the University of Georgia. I didn’t say anything because, back then, there was nothing to tell—Jordan liked him, or at least she liked the idea of dating someone older. We both knew it’d never last—Jordan just wanted a new adventure. Pete seemed quiet and very polite. Not the norm for Jordan, or for me. We both preferred guys who were a bit more outgoing and rebellious.”

Pete was probably only seven or eight years younger than Banning, but I didn’t mention that part.

“Pete boosted her ego. So, too old or not, I didn’t say anything. We were sisters. We kept each other’s secrets. Besides,” I said with a shrug. “He seemed squeaky clean. He didn’t do drugs, didn’t drink a lot, didn’t smoke, and other than his eerie habit of girl watching, he seemed okay. I don’t mean just
ogling
other women, I mean
watching
other women. He definitely had a thing for girls our age.”

Rain continued to patter against the kitchen window. I took a second to recompose myself. Looking back, I knew that Pete’s fixation on younger girls should have been a neon warning. Just another way I’d failed Jordan. Banning waited patiently.

“We both pegged him as a player from the start,” I continued. “Not a problem, though, since Jordan wasn’t all that into him. She said Pete was temporary, that he just sort of happened. He treated her well, took her to concerts and fancy dinners and movies. You know, the perfect gentleman. He opened doors, the works. Like I said, an ego booster.”

I glanced at Banning. I didn’t detect a single trace of judgment in his expression.

“But in spite of all that, he never clicked for Jordan, and the novelty of dating someone older wore off real quick. So, she didn’t care when days went by and he didn’t call. The longer we knew him, the more odd he seemed. He never mentioned friends or family, and his roving eye started to give us the creeps. Probably because he never said anything, but just
stared
. It was as though he was having a grand time summing up his prey. I remember it clearly because sometimes I’d hook up with them along with Miles, an ex-boyfriend of mine. Even Miles commented on how weird Pete was. He thought all of Pete’s well-meaning attitude and politeness seemed sort of contrived. Jordan and I agreed that Miles had a point. After a couple of double dates, Pete told Jordan he didn’t like Miles, so their dates went back to just the two of them. Looking back, I realize how Pete never told Jordan that he didn’t like
me
. If he’d ever so much as mentioned something like that, Jordan would’ve sent him packing.”

I paused again, fiddling with my fingernails. “Funny. I can see now how totally calculating he was, the sick bastard. I just couldn’t see it then. Not until it was too late.”

Banning nodded, the movement so slight I might have imagined it. He remained as focused as he’d been before.

“Anyway, about a month into the relationship, Pete took a vacation. Just up and left. Like I said, Jordan didn’t care since they weren’t really an item and she’d already met someone else. After he’d been gone for almost a week, Pete called. I don’t know why, exactly. He wouldn’t tell her where he was or when he’d be back. But he called again the next night and she was out. Man, did he freak out. From then on, he called her every night and I mean
every
night at
exactly
the same time—nine o’clock. Not nine-o-five, not eight-fifty. Nine sharp. Jordan said he sounded odd—distant. A couple of times, she wouldn’t answer her phone. He kept calling and calling. Never left a message.”

The wind kicked up outside briefly and I shuddered.

“By then, Jordan had hit it off with the new guy—someone she’d met in her calculus class. We were happy the whole thing was over with Pete.”

I took a deep, long breath. My heart hammered in my chest. I didn’t like reliving this, but I had to get it out.

“We were wrong about him, though. We were so very, very wrong. It wasn’t over for
him
.”

My voice hitched a bit, but instead of telling me everything was fine, which it wasn’t, Banning let me collect my thoughts. I wished that my parents had been as good at listening to me as Banning.

“Finally, one night, Jordan answered her cell and told him to stop calling. She told him she was dating someone else and didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. He didn’t take it well. He hung up as a matter of fact. Jerk. Then, he went right back to calling her every night—at exactly nine. When she wouldn’t answer, he left voice mails apologizing. Said he wanted her to be happy; he wanted to remain friends. When she finally talked to him, she said sure, they could be friends, but we both knew it was just to get him to leave her alone. He said he wanted closure, that it’d be the right thing to do to tell him to his face. He’d swing by, it’d only take a few minutes.”

I clenched my fists. This is where everything went completely wrong, it had been right in front of me, but I never acted on what my gut told me.

“Coming to the house wasn’t an option—Mom and Dad would totally freak if they found out Jordan had been seeing someone his age. They’d ground her forever. Besides, Jordan was embarrassed she’d ever dated him at all. We also didn’t want the creep here. So, she said she’d meet him at a restaurant near the mall that served shakes and stuff until eleven. Nice and public. I said I’d go with her, but Jordan insisted that I finish my homework and promised she wouldn’t be gone long. I smiled as Jordan grabbed her purse and her keys, and I told her to be careful and to take the back stairwell because Dad was in his study and might see her go out the front door. She gave me a hug and said she’d be back in a bit. She asked me to cover for her in case Mom and Dad looked for her. No problem, I told her. We always covered for each other.”

I sniffed. “I should have gone with her. Why couldn’t we be like other kids and rat on each other? If we had, she’d still be here.”

I expected Banning to ask questions or offer a word of advice and comfort, but he sensed that I hadn’t finished. I needed to say one more thing.

“I never saw her again.”

The last of my tears spilled onto my cheeks. I wiped them away and took another deep breath. My insides felt all chewed up, raw, but I felt better just the same. I was empty, drained. Banning and I sat there, listening to the sounds of the house settling against the wind outside. I wondered if houses dreamed, if the creaking floorboards were a way of them shifting in their sleep.

“You didn’t kill her,” he said at last.

I swallowed hard, taking a second to compose myself. “I might as well have. It’s my fault she’s dead. So what if Pete had come to the house? So what if my parents found out she’d been seeing someone his age? He wouldn’t have come over, I’m sure of that now. Jordan was so afraid Mom and Dad would cause a scene—have Pete arrested or something. It’d be all over the school. She liked Zach, her new guy. So, I promised her I wouldn’t tell.”

“You couldn’t have known he’d kill her,” Banning said. “Nothing else would’ve made a lot of difference. Pete wouldn’t have backed off unless he thought he’d get caught, that she’d cause him trouble, or if he found another interest.”

“Yeah, that’s the point,” I replied. “We made it too easy for him. He
planned
her death. Jordan never stepped a foot inside the restaurant. Pete knew if anyone saw the two of them together, that’d place him as the last person who’d seen her alive. He told the police that Jordan never showed up. Witnesses verified he was at the restaurant, waiting. He was seen leaving—alone. He had to have knocked her out before he went inside and ate his dinner while my sister was tied up in the trunk of his car.”

I couldn’t go on. My brain wouldn’t allow me to relive it—wouldn’t allow me to tell Banning how the police found her body, what Pete had done to her. It was too much right now. Too much ever.

“Banning,” Daniel said softly. He leaned against the doorway. “You’ve got a messenger.”

Banning’s gaze shifted to me, checking if I was going to be okay long enough for him to leave the room. I stood and headed for the doorway. Banning followed.

“How long were you listening,” I asked as I passed Daniel.

He shrugged. “A minute or two. You really
would
do anything for your sister, wouldn’t you?”

Daniel had asked this before, except now it seemed more like a statement.

“Yeah, I would. But, to do her any good now, I’ve got to find her—before you take me to hell. Even then, I can come back to purgatory, right? You did. If I have to wait an eternity, I’ll see her again. Maybe if she’s in heaven by then, she’ll come back here, too.”

It was funny how I thought the wait seemed worth it now. Whatever possessed me to think I could wait a thousand years, but not a mortal lifetime? Banning’s observation of seeing life differently after death had been an understatement.

I followed Daniel into the living room. Faintly, I heard a
tap tap tap
on the window. Banning raised the blinds. A raven sat on the window ledge, its black eyes glittering back at us.

“A messenger? At night?” I asked.

“That’s never good,” Daniel murmured.

Before I could say it probably wasn’t good day or night—a raven meant someone was going to die, Banning walked through the window and out into the yard. The raven flew to his outstretched hand like it had that morning after I died. The bird cawed and hopped up to his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” I asked Daniel.

“Dunno. The birds don’t speak to demons. Only reapers.”

“What kind of birds talk to demons?” I asked.

“We don’t have birds. The angels do, though. Sparrows,” Daniel replied. “But, regardless of who’s getting the message, birds don’t fly well at night. So, when they do, well—it’s
never
good.”

I’d wanted to ask why they didn’t use bats. Bats would have been a better choice. Seemed more suited for the afterlife, too. But, what did I know?

Daniel cupped his hands against the window and peered outside. “I think we’ve got somewhere to go.”

I looked outside. The slant of light shining through the windows gave Banning a gaunt appearance—his eyes appeared more hollowed, like they’d weathered some monumental storm.

The bird flew off into the night and Banning returned.

“What’s happened?” I asked.

“It isn’t what
has
happened,” Banning answered. His voice seemed off. Fear prickled the hairs on my neck. “It’s what is
going
to happen.”

“Is it about Keely?” Daniel asked.

“Demons,” Banning replied, although it wasn’t really an answer. He turned and headed for the front door.

Banning had another job to do, and from his expression, it wasn’t going to be pretty. According to Banning, the raven had given him two messages. Where we were headed now had to do with a mortal death. The second included the demons. Banning wouldn’t tell me what all that meant. While the thought of demons bothered me, Banning seemed more concerned about taking the next soul.

Banning walked briskly ahead of us. Knowing how easy it was for both him and Daniel to materialize instead of walking everywhere made me feel like a real hindrance. It was well after midnight and on a week night, so I doubted we’d find a ride with a neighbor. We had to walk out of the subdivision and down the road to the intersection—a good mile and a half. It was more time consuming than exerting.

At last, we hitched a ride in a dual cab diesel Ford. The driver got out of his truck, chirped the alarm and went into the convenience store. While he bought cigarettes, we slid through the doors and waited for him to come back.

I didn’t want to ask where we were going or what would happen when we got there. Even Daniel seemed to understand this wasn’t the right time. Or maybe he already knew what was happening. Maybe he and Banning had suspected this event would come. Or, it might have been some sort of reaper thing and Daniel decided to cut Banning some slack. I hoped so. How horrible would it be to know when people were going to die? I shuddered.