Shadow Hills (29 page)

Well, not all of it. Mr. Carr had died.

My throat burned as I inhaled through my mouth. I needed a glass of water. I threw my legs over the side of the bed, but before I could stand up, I felt something wet drip on my head and roll down the side of my face.
Great. Now my ceiling is leaking
. But that didn’t make sense. I was on the first floor of the dorm building—which meant I was under some other girl’s room, not a bathroom. I felt another drip and looked up in annoyance.

Mr. Carr’s dead eyes stared down at me. His lifeless body was suspended on the ceiling right over my head, spread-eagle, like someone strapped to one of those spinning wheels at a carnival. I screamed, but no sound came out; Mr. Carr’s gaping mouth mirrored my own.

“Help me.” His lips did not move, but I heard his grating whisper. “You’ve got to help me.”

As I watched in horror, blood began pooling in his eyes until they were brimming with the red liquid, then the blood rained down, splattering across my face.

I flew awake. For an instant, I was still frozen in terror. Then I pinched myself to make sure my waking up was for real this time. The red mark on my arm told me it was. I was drenched in sweat, my head was throbbing, and my eyelids felt like they were made of sandpaper.

I squinted against the dim sunlight falling onto my bed. The alarm clock read 10:30. I’d already missed breakfast. Not that my queasy stomach was going to let me eat very much.

Stepping onto the cold floor, I tried to shake off the haze that enveloped me. I flipped open my laptop and scrolled through my music library. I needed to hear something loud and energetic to get the remnants of the nightmare out of my head. I settled on Japanther, putting “Mornings” at the top of the playlist. At least the song title was appropriate. I waited for the music to work its customary magic, but it gave me little more than a tiny lift. Sighing, I flicked the laptop shut again and grabbed my toiletries bag.

After I finished showering and brushing my teeth, I went back to my room to get dressed. Headmaster Grimsby had contacted the househeads and teachers last night to tell them classes were
canceled today. It felt weird to slip into jeans and a tank top with Monday on my calendar. Strange, how quickly I had become accustomed to putting on the black pencil skirt and crested blazer every weekday.

I grabbed my purse, then headed over to Adriana’s next door. I didn’t feel like going to lunch alone. I rapped twice on her door before she opened it.

“Persephone.” She looked relieved. “Good, it’s just you.”

How every friend loves to be greeted
. I sat down on Adriana’s bed and watched her flip through the clothes hanging in her closet.

“So, how are you feeling this morning?” Adriana didn’t wait for my answer. “I’ve barely slept at all the last two nights. I’m even having nightmares—which never happens to me.”

If only we were all so lucky
.

“I must look awful.”

But of course she didn’t. Adriana looked as elegant as always. Her pajamas were preppy perfection in signature Burberry plaid. After a few minutes she settled on a pair of cropped white pants and a purple boatneck top. On our way out of Kresky, I knocked on Toy’s door, but no one answered.

“She’s probably in the caf already,” Adriana said as we headed down the gray slate walkway.

The brisk September air made me wish I had worn a jacket. Though the uniform had become habit, I still managed to forget how much cooler it was here than in L.A.

When we walked into the cafeteria, Toy was sitting at our
usual table, talking to Graham and Brody. I was a little surprised to see Brody there, given that Mr. Carr was his guardian. On the other hand, maybe he couldn’t stand being cooped up in the house with people coming by to offer their condolences. Right after Athena died, all I had wanted to do was get away from the house and everybody in it.

“Hey.” Brody’s smile came out more like a grimace.

“You okay, Phe?” Graham looked at me with concern.

“Sort of. But I keep thinking about finding Mr. Carr.”

Brody quickly looked down, concentrating on swirling a piece of pancake around in the ocean of syrup on his plate.

“I’m sorry, Brody.” Clearly, my brain was still not functioning properly.

“It’s cool. I don’t want to sit here and pretend not to be thinking about what everybody’s thinking about.” He rubbed his temple. “I overheard the doctor talking to Pamela—Mrs. Carr,” he clarified for us. “He said that Robert had a cerebral aneurysm, not a heart attack.”

“That’s a brain thing, right?” Adriana asked.

“It’s the dilation of a blood vessel in the brain,” Brody explained. “He died when it ruptured.”

“Oh, my God,” Toy gasped.

I swallowed and glanced around at the others. It sounded so awful, especially delivered in that flat monotone Brody’s voice had taken on. Everyone was looking in opposite directions—down at the table or across the cafeteria—unsure what to do or say. Brody watched his own hand as he balled up his napkin
into a tighter and tighter lump. Abruptly, he got up and strode to the door.

“What should we do?” Adriana stared after him. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Me neither. But maybe one of us should go talk to him.” Toy looked anxious.

“I’ll go make sure he’s okay,” I volunteered.

Brody stood a few feet outside the entrance to the cafeteria. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he held a lit cigarette in one hand. He was just letting it burn like he’d forgotten about it. “Hey.” I clasped my hands in front of my waist, interlacing my fingers.

Brody gave me a head nod of acknowledgment.

“I just wanted to talk to you.”
Though I have absolutely no idea what I can possibly say
.

“Zach send you on a cheer-up-Brody mission?” He narrowed his eyes.

“No. It’s nothing like that.” I scratched at the chipping polish on my thumbnail. “I just feel really bad about Mr. Carr.”

“Why? You didn’t kill him.” Brody frowned and turned his face away from me to exhale a stream of smoke.

Yeah, but maybe I’m the reason he got killed
. A picture of my bracelet lying next to his hand flashed in my mind. Had Brody seen the body? The red handprints?

“My sister died last year.” I didn’t know whether or not opening up to Brody would make him more open with me, but it seemed worth a shot. “And I’m still not okay. I don’t think I’ll ever get over it, but it hurts less with time.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t actually related to Mr. Carr or anything.” Brody pulled out his pack of cigarettes, lighting a new one with the dying cherry of his first.

“I know. I’m sorry about your parents.” I shook my head. “I can’t imagine what that must have been like.”

“I was young with my dad. And my mom …” Brody’s jaw tightened, and his nostrils flared. “Well, you know. I’m sure Zach told you about our life span. She wanted it that way. She didn’t want to end up a basket case.” There was the slightest tremor in his chin, and his cheeks were blotchy and red.

“That’s so awful.” It was a terrible understatement, but even after everything with my sister, I still didn’t know anything comforting to say.

“That’s just the way it is.” Brody sucked hard on his cigarette, as if he were trying to draw strength from it. “The way we are. But Mr. Carr—he was the only adult on this campus who gave two shits about me. The only one who paid any attention at all—and I didn’t notice anything was going on with him.”

I was about to open my mouth when Zach walked around the side of the building.

“Hey, I figured you guys would still be at lunch.” He smiled at us, and I wondered if he could sense the heavy, suffocating tension in the air. “I came by to see how you were doing.”

“I told you already. I’m fine, man.”

“I know,” Zach reassured Brody. “But I came in with my mom; she’s talking to Pamela at the hospital. And I thought since I had the car, I would bring my skateboard, and we could drive to Springfield and hit the skate park.”

Brody’s face relaxed. “Yeah. That sounds good. I’m just gonna run back to the house and grab my board, and then we can go. Okay?”

Brody took off, looking several degrees happier.

I turned to Zach. “You skateboard?”

“Well, you could say that, but I suck at it. I’m basically comic relief for the other guys out there.” His warm, throaty laugh lit me up inside. “But it’s pretty much Brody’s favorite thing to do, and I wanted to take his mind off stuff for a while.”

“I know. He needs you.” As Brody ran back across the courtyard, I gave Zach a tender kiss, keeping my mind blank.

I couldn’t let Zach know what I was going to do. Brody’s house was the logical place to look for evidence that Mr. Carr had been killed. Mrs. Carr was at the hospital talking to Zach’s mom, which would probably take a while, and Brody was going to be gone for at least two hours. There was nothing to prevent me from sneaking into the Carrs’ house and searching for proof.

Well, nothing except for good sense, and I was pretty sure I had given up on that a couple of weeks ago.

After Zach left with Brody, I headed to the teachers’ cottages, a group of houses on campus where the faculty members with families lived.

I walked quickly, nervous that one of the teachers might see me. After all, even though it was Monday they, too, had the day off to deal with their grief.
As if the aftermath of death is like the twenty-four-hour flu and we’ll all be over it by tomorrow
. I chewed on my thumbnail, wondering how I was going to figure out which
house was the Carrs’. I couldn’t very well go knocking on doors until I found it. Fortunately for me, there were mailboxes in front of each house with the teachers’ names clearly marked on them. Even better, the Carrs’ house was the last one in the row, so that on one side there was nothing but the woods and to the back there was only the hill going up to the hospital.

I went around to the side that was hidden from the rest of the campus.

I tried all the windows, but they were locked. There was a back entrance that opened onto the small stone patio. Without much hope of success, I tried the door handle. To my surprise, it turned.

Cautiously, I stepped into the kitchen and closed the door behind me. I walked over to the stairs on my right and peered up them, but I wasn’t ready to explore the second story yet. After checking out a small coat closet, I decided to try the room at the end of the hall. The door was standing partway open. I peeked around it and froze, staring in disbelief.

This was the old-fashioned study I had seen in my vision at Rebekah Sampson’s grave. There were the same heavy drapes pulled closed across the windows, the same dark wood bookshelves and imposing mahogany desk.

A chill ran down my spine, then I was hit with a flush of vindication. I was right. My dreams and visions had led me here—which meant Mr. Carr
had
been murdered and something in this office would help me find out why.

I stepped in, leaving the door open a crack like I had found
it. It was weird actually being in this room, but at least I knew what I was looking for, and I wouldn’t have to waste time searching. I went straight to the desk and pulled open the side drawer. The drawer was full of files, just as it had been in the dream, and I flipped through them until I saw one labeled
BANISHMENT DOCUMENTS
.

I pulled out the file and opened it. The first page was the list of people who had been banished from Shadow Hills in 1968, once again confirming my dream. I was grateful I had the advantage of a mind map to help me find what I wanted, but this was getting seriously creepy. I remembered the frightening face I had seen in the file in my dream, and I quickly closed the folder. I didn’t want to look at that face again—not here, not now. Besides, it would be foolish to take the time to look at it. I’d just have to bring it back to the dorm.

I tucked it under my arm and glanced around the room, wondering if I should search for something else.

The sound of a key in the front door made me jump.

I slid the desk drawer back in as quietly as possible. The hinges creaked as the front door swung open. I froze, my heart pounding like crazy. The door to the study was almost shut, so as long as they stayed in the hall I would be fine. If they came in here, I was completely busted.

I breathed a little sigh of relief at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Okay. Mrs. Carr had obviously gotten through at the hospital more quickly than I had expected. But I could slip out the front while she was upstairs.

I peered out. The foyer was empty. I strained, listening for the sound of footsteps above me. Not hearing anything, I cautiously edged out into the hall.

Just then the back door of the house opened. I jumped back inside the study, pulling the door almost shut again. How had Mrs. Carr gotten out there? I was sure I’d heard her go up the stairs.

“Pamela?” came the sound of a male voice, and I realized that somebody else had come in. Someone who knew Mrs. Carr well enough to call her by her first name. Who was this, coming in the back door so familiarly?

Whoever it was, his voice brought Mrs. Carr running down the stairs.

“I parked in the hospital lot like usual,” I heard the man say.

“Good. It’s even more important now that no one finds out about this.”

I raised my eyebrows at that statement and leaned closer to the door.

“I have no intention of anyone ever finding out,” the man told her. The footsteps started down the hall and abruptly stopped. Then there were some noises that definitely sounded like kissing.
Mousy Mrs. Carr is making out with some other guy already?
Her husband hadn’t even been buried yet!

Unable to contain my curiosity, I opened the door a smidge more, putting my eye to the crack.

They were standing in the dimmest part of the hallway, beyond the light from any of the outside rooms, and the stairs obscured my view of them from the waist down. The guy was
facing Mrs. Carr, his back to me, and he blocked the small woman entirely. His hair looked like it was probably light brown, but it was hard to be sure under the circumstances. He was definitely slim, though, medium height, and wearing a dark leather jacket. He could be anyone—well, anyone completely lacking in morals. Frustration built inside of me; I couldn’t even grind my teeth or exhale too forcefully, for fear of being discovered.