Authors: Anne Greenwood Brown
“ ‘No biggie,’ ” said Mrs. Pettit. I think it might have been the first time I’d ever heard her voice. Unlike Gabby’s usual self-assured tone and Mr. Pettit’s steady inflection, Mrs. Pettit’s voice was small and weak. “Excuse me,” she said, and she got up quickly and headed for the ladies’ room.
“Um,” I said. “Did I say something wrong?”
“It’s not your fault,” said Mr. Pettit.
“That’s what Jack always used to say when Mom got on him about putting off school,” Gabby said. “ ‘No biggie.’ That’s what he’d say.”
“Oh,” I said with a tight throat. “Lots of people wait a year.”
“Are you working, then?” Mr. Pettit asked.
“No, I’m—”
“That’s why I asked Gabby to invite you out,” Mr. Pettit said.
Gabby looked up from the table and stared me hard in the eyes. For a second, I wondered if confessing the truth about Jack would be a good thing for them. Maybe they should know that their son had been behind the murders last summer and that, in the end, Pavati—the object of his obsession—had to destroy him. But no. I wouldn’t poison their memories of their son, and I wouldn’t add to their guilt. They’d only blame themselves for not having listened to Jack when he talked about mermaids.
Besides, beyond any of this, I was personally invested in our family secret. Mermaids would remain the lake’s best-kept secret. I’d lie like the best of them. My family’s safety depended on it.
“My mom’s taking antidepressants now,” Gabby said.
“Gabby,” Mr. Pettit scolded.
“Lily should know how Jack’s disappearance is affecting us.”
Here we go
. “You lost me,” I said. “I thought we were talking about my education.”
“We’re afraid for you,” Mr. Pettit said.
I raised my eyebrows.
Afraid? For me?
Their concern was unexpected. I pulled my straw from its paper sheath.
“We don’t want you to go missing, too,” Gabby said. “Do you have any idea how freaked out I was when you didn’t take my calls?”
“Oh! Well, that’s really very sweet, but I–” I twisted the paper wrapping around and around my finger like a ring, but I twisted it too tight and the paper snapped. “I’m fine. I’m sorry for not calling you back sooner.”
“Yeah, well, sometimes people just need someone to listen,” Gabby said, her voice tapering off on the last word.
“You’re right. I should have picked up.”
“It’s just a little odd, don’t you think?” Mr. Pettit said, leaning across the table toward me. “First Jack. Now you. Two kids, with everything going for them, good students, good kids with a plan for their futures, then all of a sudden they just … stop. No ambition, no plan, content just to stick close to the lake. What do your parents think about all this?”
I shrugged.
“We’ve got our theories on what happened to Jack, Lily, but we’re hoping you can shed some light on the situation.”
“I’m not sure what you mean by theories, Mr. Pettit.”
“Oh, come on, Lily,” Gabby said. “Sometimes you can be pretty dense. My dad’s been trolling the shoreline every day since the ice melted.”
I waited. Dense was the best defense I had.
“My wife is hoping Jack’s joined up with some brainwashing cult, which I know sounds ridiculous, but she
watches a lot of TV, and it’s a much better option than the conclusion I’ve drawn.”
I waited.
Mr. Pettit folded his hands in front of him as if in prayer. “It’s pretty obvious. Jack’s dead. The same person got him who killed that other kid, and then Brady and Chief Eaton. I don’t see any way around that.” He looked up at me then, and I shifted uncomfortably in my seat.
“I doubt that,” I said. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Gabby studying me closely, but Mr. Pettit’s expression brightened just a little.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” he said. “Lily, I was really hoping you’d have something, some little insight that would tell me I was wrong.”
“Me?” I asked, turning to Gabby.
“I know you and Jack weren’t exactly friends,” Gabby said, “but Jack would say–”
“You remember how he was acting at the end?” asked Mr. Pettit, as if he was still making excuses for his son. “With all the mermaid talk?”
“I remember,” I said, swallowing hard.
“We had some pretty horrible fights about it. Jack would say things like, ‘Why can’t you believe me like Lily does?’ or, ‘If you don’t believe me, ask Lily Hancock.’ ”
“What my dad’s trying to say, Lily, is if there’s some other explanation for what’s happened to Jack, we’d all like to hear it.”
“Why do you doubt he’s dead?” asked Mr. Pettit, the whites of his eyes turning pink, then shiny with a thin sheet of tears.
I twisted my hands under the table, hoping to work out my discomfort in one part of my body while keeping my face as calm as possible. “For one, no body,” I said. “All the others were found on shore.”
The waitress returned, setting a large greasy pizza between us. No one ate.
“And if Jack was involved in a secret mermaid cult, I’m pretty sure he was its only member.”
Mr. Pettit almost smiled.
Then, in a moment of panic, I grabbed on to the postcard ruse I’d suggested to Calder earlier. “I’m sorry … I would have said something sooner if I’d known he hadn’t been in touch with you, but …” I hesitated, putting the finishing touches on my deceit. “I just assumed …”
“Assumed what?” asked Mrs. Pettit, returning to the table, her eyelids swollen and her face newly washed. She smoothed her skirt and sat down next to her husband again.
“I just assumed he’d sent you a postcard, too.”
“Lily?” Gabby asked, grabbing my wrist.
“Yeah …”
Shoot. Why didn’t I just keep my mouth shut?
“I got something in the mail a few weeks ago,” I said, plastering my face with my best apologetic look.
Mr. and Mrs. Pettit sat like granite statues, not blinking.
“You got a postcard from Jack,” Gabby said, testing out the sound of the words and tightening her grip on my arm. “Why didn’t you tell us right away?”
“See!” said Mrs. Pettit. “I knew Jack wasn’t dead. I could feel it in my bones. A mother knows these things.”
“Margaret,” said Mr. Pettit, putting up his hand. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“I thought Jack might turn to you,” said Mrs. Pettit. “I thought maybe he was too mad at us to call home, but I thought maybe … Oh, Martin, I told you he wasn’t dead.”
“Let’s see it,” said Gabby, holding out her hand, palm up.
“See what?” I asked. My hands felt cold and clammy under the table, and I tensed my muscles against the shiver that ran across my shoulders. Did the air-conditioning just kick into overdrive?
“The postcard, of course.”
“Oh. I didn’t bring it with me.”
“We can go to your house, then,” Mrs. Pettit said. “It would mean a lot to me to see it.”
“We can’t,” I said. “It got … accidentally … thrown away.”
“You threw away a postcard from Jack?” Gabby asked, her voice going up an octave. The diners around us stopped eating and turned to look.
I said, “Well,
I
didn’t. Of course I wouldn’t have done that. Sophie just didn’t realize what it was.” Great. Now I was throwing Sophie under the proverbial bus.
“Well, you can get it back, can’t you?” Mr. Pettit asked.
“I don’t think so.”
Mrs. Pettit started to cry. “I can’t do this again,” she said, and Mr. Pettit drew her in, holding her against his shoulder while she shook silently.
Do what again?
I thought. Gabby’s jaw tightened, and her cheeks bloomed red.
“I’m sorry. I really am,” I said. “But the postcard didn’t say anything.” I was a terrible, horrible, despicable person. I wish I’d never come. “The card was blank, except for a J. It
had a photo of Winnipeg on the front. I think all he wanted was to let me know he was okay, without letting anyone get close enough to drag him home.”
“A ‘J.’ That’s all?” Gabby asked.
“Honest truth.”
“You promise?” Gabby asked.
“That sounds like Jack,” said Mr. Pettit, nodding his head.
I leaned across the table toward Mrs. Pettit. “If I get any more, I’ll bring them to your house right away.” I would, too. I’d make up a dozen fake postcards. I’d despise myself, but at least I’d keep hope alive for this poor woman. She was so thin and fragile, she looked like she could snap in the wind.
Mr. Pettit reached across the table toward me, his hand in a fist, and rapped the table with his knuckles. “We know you will. You have no idea what a relief this is. I’m going to take your mother home,” he said to Gabby. “You girls stay and eat.” He threw a twenty on the table.
After Mr. and Mrs. Pettit left, Gabby and I sat in silence, staring at the cooling pizza. A full minute passed before Gabby said, “I’m not mad at you.”
I couldn’t look at her. “You’re not?”
“First you had me scared when you didn’t take my calls; then you had me mad when you showed up here like there was nothing wrong. But I’m not mad anymore. You’re a good person, Lily.”
I reached for my glass of water, my hand shaking. “How’s that?”
“What you did for my parents … lying like that … that
was a really nice thing to do. Because you and I both know what happened to Jack.”
I miscalculated the glass’s distance and knocked it over, making a huge puddle on the table. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, laying my palms flat in the water.
Gabby pulled her purse into her lap and dug around inside, eventually pulling out a dagger, its handle decorated in beach glass and copper wire, the same dagger Calder had pulled from the mud at the base of Copper Falls. Sheshebens’s dagger.
I hadn’t seen the ancient artifact since the day Calder and I had gone looking for Maighdean Mara and found her stony corpse. I could hear the dagger’s faint but familiar hum vibrating off the Formica table. I tried not to react, but I couldn’t take my eyes off it.
“I found it in our boat after Jack went missing,” Gabby said. “Do you know anything about this?”
“What is it?” I asked, feigning ignorance. “It’s beautiful.” I reached for it, and Gabby snatched it back and returned it to her purse.
“Jack’s dead,” Gabby said. “I think someone killed him. With this.”
D
aniel wasn’t in any hurry to leave the Hancocks’ house. In fact, Mrs. H asked me and Jason to add another leaf to the dinner table so there’d be room for Daniel to stay. As it turned out, Mrs. H was more prepared for Adrian’s arrival than any of us. Not only did she have bottles and formula in the kitchen, she directed Jason to get a cardboard box out of the front hall closet, in which there were several plastic shopping bags full of diapers, blankets, and toys.
“Seriously? You got all this stuff for me?” Daniel asked.
“We’ll call it a baby shower,” Mrs. H said, “although it’s not a very good one. It’s a shame your mother can’t be here, but I understand how things are. Feel free to bring Adrian over whenever you want.”
“Don’t take that too literally,” I said, defending Lily’s position in her absence.
“Calder’s kidding,” said Mrs. H.
“No, he’s not,” Sophie said.
“I’m not raising you to be rude,” said Mrs. H.
I glanced at Sophie, who was chewing on the inside of her cheek. She threw me a look that said,
Back me up, please
.
I checked my phone. Somehow I’d got it in my head that Gabby was going to corner Lily, and she’d be desperate for me to feed her one of my long-practiced lies. But so far, not a word.
“Calder’s right,” Jason said. “It’s not good getting too attached.”
I got up and walked to the kitchen window. The sounds of Mrs. H’s cooing adoration drifted past me, through the open window, and out across the yard toward the lake. Daniel came up behind me.
“Do you think she’s out there?” he asked.
“Of course not. She went to meet Gabby.”
“Not Lily. Dude, not everything is about Lily. I’m talking about Pavati. Do you think she’s out there?”
I considered that. Pavati might be listening. She’d probably be anxious and keeping watch until she was confident Daniel was comfortable with the baby. “Yes, she is.”
“Then why doesn’t she come up to the house?”
I turned toward Daniel, furrowing my brow. “She’s. Not. Human.”
Daniel smirked. “She can look pretty human to me.”
“She’s an animal.”
Daniel wiggled his eyebrows at me suggestively, but that wasn’t the kind of “animal” I was talking about.
“It’s a charade,” I said. “She studies how to act. She lives on the periphery. But she’s never going to come up, ring the doorbell, and make a freaking house call.”
“You did,” Daniel said.
“Those were completely different circumstances, and not something I’m proud of. I’m different now. Pavati is the same as she ever was, and she won’t change. You should stay away. Don’t do anything cute.”
“Why’s that?”
“Right now, the way you light up when you even talk about Pavati, you’ll be a greater temptation to her than anyone else she encounters on the lake, and it’s early in the season. Not a lot of boaters or swimmers. You’d be about the only option.”
“She’d never hurt me. She needs me to take care of Adrian.”
I looked over my shoulder at Mrs. H. She was tickling the baby, who lay on the couch, tucked tightly into the corner. I said, “I’m sure there’d be someone to replace you if need be.”
Daniel swallowed hard. He bowed his head and wrung his hands, working the knuckles. “Will you talk to Pavati for me? See how things stand between us?”
I returned my gaze to the lake. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll do that. Besides … there’s something I want to talk to her about, too.”
I
didn’t have to worry about an argument with Gabby over her theory that someone had killed Jack with an ancient artifact. When I stared at her openmouthed, without an admission, she practically crawled over me to get out of the booth, then stormed out of the restaurant.
After she left, I remained in the booth for a few more minutes, trying to comprehend what Gabby’s possession of the dagger might mean. I couldn’t believe Calder would have done something so careless as to leave the dagger on Jack’s boat, but the way I left him that day, well, it was possible he hadn’t been thinking clearly.