Dead Is Just a Dream - [Dead Is - 08] (9 page)

“Why is that?”

He hesitated. “Don’t tell anyone, because Tashya is really sensitive about it, but her parents work for a traveling circus. The one that just rolled into town.”

“A circus? She doesn’t seem like the circus type at all.”

I didn’t want to say that Tashya seemed like she should be starring in
Mean Girls
or something. Still, learning that her family was in the circus made me wonder if she was somehow involved with the creepy clown I had seen outside Eva’s house.

Harmony coincidentally brought Tashya to chorus practice that same day, when Dominic and I had our audition.

Or, judging from Tashya’s smirk, maybe it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Just ignore her,” Dominic said. “You’ll do great.”

We were third in line. Connor and Selena did a skillful cover of Frank Sinatra’s “Witchcraft,” which I thought was pretty funny, considering that Selena is a sorceress. Connor’s voice was strong, but had a little Tom Waits thing going for it. Raven and Eva sang a song from
A Nightmare on Elm Street
. Then it was our turn.

Dominic grabbed my hand as we headed to the microphones. I felt Tashya’s eyes on me the whole time, and my voice started out shaky. But I finally hit my stride and the notes came out clear and strong. The song ended without any major goofs on my part. “Sally’s Song” from
A Nightmare Before Christmas
seemed to be a hit, judging from the applause from the choir. Even Ms. Clare had a smile on her face.

On Wednesday it was
back to Phantasm Farms. When Poppy honked the horn, I grabbed the gift bag containing Sanja’s present and herded my sisters into the car.

It turned out that Mr. Platsky had rented out part of the farm to the circus, because when we arrived for our lesson, they were setting up the big top in the pasture near the main road.

“A circus!” Katie said. “Can we go?”

“Not today,” I replied. “But once they’re open, we’ll go, I promise.”

When we reached the stables, Poppy said, “I’ll be a little late picking you up. I have to take Sydney and Sarah to the art supply store.”

“How did we ever survive without you?” I asked her.

“I’m glad to do it,” Poppy said. “College is expensive and your parents pay me well.”

I had a good idea of what would be in store for me once I got my driver’s license, and I was pretty sure I wouldn’t be paid for it. Kind of made me rethink my eagerness to drive.

I waved goodbye to Poppy as Katie and Kellie raced ahead to the stable.

I stashed the gift bag under my jacket and purse and left them in the beat-up old locker Mr. Platsky had told us we could use for any valuables.

He had already saddled up our horses. I noticed that this time, I got a mild-mannered older mare instead of the horse who wanted to chomp me.

Mr. Platsky spent most of the time correcting the way I held the reins, but my two sisters seemed to be naturals. I didn’t see any sign of Sanja during the ride.

Back at the barn we helped groom the horses, and then Mr. Platsky led them away for some oats and water. When I grabbed my stuff from the locker, Katie noticed the gift bag. “Who is that for?”

“A friend,” I told her. “Let’s wait by the picnic table.”

“I’m hungry,” Katie complained, so I fished a couple of graham crackers out of my backpack.

I caught a flash of white out of the corner of my eye and then Sanja appeared.

She looked as bedraggled as ever. I didn’t understand it. There were plenty of dads, single or otherwise, who knew how to take care of their kids. My own dad braided hair like a pro and did most of the cooking. Mr. Platsky seemed to have no problem grooming horses, so surely he could manage to drag a comb through his daughter’s hair once in a while.

“Hi, Sanja. These are my sisters Katie and Kellie,” I said. “And this is for you.” I held out the bag but she didn’t take it.

“What is that?”

“It’s a present,” I said. “Just something little. Open it!”

She took it like it was a sack of poisonous snakes and looked at the brush and de-tangler inside with wonder.

“Sit down and I’ll show you how to use it.”

I made it through the worst of the tangles before Poppy pulled up. As soon as Sanja saw the car, she ran off. I was happy to see that she took the gifts with her.

My chance to snoop around Phantasm Farms came on Sunday when Mom casually mentioned that we wouldn’t be having riding lessons after school that week.

“Mr. Platsky canceled,” she said.

“Did he say why?”

“Something about needing to go out of town,” Mom said. “Makeup session is Saturday.”

I groaned inwardly. “I was going to go for a run on Saturday.”

“Why don’t you go after your lesson?” Mom suggested, but it was more of an order.

I couldn’t get ahold of any of the other viragoes, so I called Dominic. “I need a favor,” I said. “Want to go for a ride?”

“Alone with you? I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.”

I waited for him outside and opened the car door practically before he made it to a full stop.

“What’s your hurry?” he asked. “You almost injured yourself getting into the car.”

“Thanks for getting here so quickly,” I said. “I wanted to get there before dark.”

Dominic put the car into drive.

“Don’t you want to know where we’re going? You didn’t even ask.”

He smiled at me. “I don’t care. I’m with you and that’s all that matters.”

“Even if we’re going on a life-endangering recon mission?” I teased.

“Even then,” he said. “Where to?”

I gave him directions to the horse farm. “Samantha went there for a plant-collecting trip before she went into a coma,” I said. “Maybe the two events are connected somehow.”

Dominic and I parked by the side of the road and hiked in. “Katie said she saw someone in the abandoned house,” I told him as we walked along.

“What do you think the owner will do if we get caught?” he asked.

“Probably have us arrested for trespassing,” I said. “But he’s supposedly out of town. I wonder if he took his daughter, Sanja. She’s like a feral child.”

“You think you can help her?” Dominic asked.

I sighed. “I hope so.”

As we approached the house, we heard raised voices. A young girl and a man were arguing.

“I think that’s Sanja,” I told Dominic.

“I didn’t kill them!” Sanja cried. “I can’t help it if I give them nightmares.”

I couldn’t hear the man’s reply, but the slamming of the door was clear enough.

“Hide,” I whispered. “Someone is coming.”

Dominic and I crouched behind an overgrown shrub. Mr. Platsky stomped by us without a glance.

“He seems intense,” Dominic said, once Mr. Platsky was out of earshot.

I nodded. “You’re not kidding.”

“Do you think we should look for Sanja?” Dominic asked. “Mr. Platsky was pretty angry.”

I nodded. “Why would her own father leave her alone in that scary old house?”

We crept into the house, and several dark hallways later, we found Sanja by following the sound of her sobbing. She was in a room upstairs with the door closed.

“Sanja, it’s me, Jessica Walsh,” I said. I turned the knob but the door was locked.

“Don’t open it!” she yelled. The fear in her voice startled me.

“Your dad isn’t here,” I said.

“I know,” she replied softly. “Don’t open the door. It’s the only way.”

“Why would your father lock you in here?” Dominic asked.

“It’s the only way,” Sanja said again.

“The only way for what?” I asked.

“The only way to make sure I don’t kill anyone.”

A shiver ran down my spine. “Why would you think you would kill anyone?”

The sound of sobbing came through the door again.

“Sanja, let us in, please?” I begged.

We waited a long time, but finally Sanja said, “There’s a key hanging by the door.”

I sighed with relief. There was indeed an old skeleton key on a hook by the door. I put it in the keyhole with shaky hands and turned the doorknob.

The rest of the house had been a living nightmare, but Sanja’s room was warm and inviting. The walls were painted pale lavender, and a cheery quilt covered the bed.

“Tell us what’s going on,” Dominic said.

Sanja was trembling so hard she could hardly talk. “I’m a Mara,” she finally said. I draped a blanket over her.

“What does that mean?” I asked. I knew that a Mara was a night mare who haunts sleeping victims, but I wanted her to keep talking.

“We transform into horses and scare people in their sleep. Sometimes the sound of our hooves is enough to terrify someone to death.”

“You were the ghostly white horse we saw on the beach,” I guessed.

“Yes,” she confessed. “That was me.”

“That must be why I sang ‘Wild Horses’ that night,” Dom said.

Sanja hung her head, ashamed. “Father says that Maras are killers, that he locks me up for my own good,” she said. “He left me a cell phone, just in case.”

“Look, Sanja,” I said. “I’ve been doing some research. We don’t know for sure that a Mara is to blame for the deaths in Nightshade.”

Dominic gave me a warning look, but I ignored it. I refused to believe that a little girl could be responsible for murder.

“Maybe not,” she said. “But I killed my mother. Father tells me all the time.”

“Maybe you misunderstood,” Dominic said gently.

She shook her head. “My mother died when I was born. It’s my fault she’s gone. I’m a monster.”

I gasped. What a horrible thing to tell a child. “Your father is the monster,” I replied.

“Jessica, can I talk to you for a minute?” Dominic asked.

I followed him out into the dark hallway. “We should be careful,” he warned. “We don’t know what the truth is. Maybe her dad has a reason for what he’s doing.”

“For locking up his daughter?” I asked incredulously. “Sounds like superstition to me.”

“I’m not championing his behavior,” Dominic said. “But we need to be careful.”

“I don’t want to leave her here all alone.”

“Me, neither. But what happens if it’s true and we let her out?”

“It’s not true,” I insisted. “There’s no way that innocent girl is a killer.”

“Maybe not,” he replied. “But we have to look at all the possibilities. She might not be the murderer, but we need to prove it.”

“What should we do in the meantime? We can’t just leave her there.”

“She’s safe and warm here,” he said. “And what other choice do we have? What if we let her out and someone else dies?”

“Maybe she’ll come stay with me,” I suggested. We went back to Sanja’s room and I posed the question, but she wouldn’t budge.

“I’m better off here,” Sanja said. “That way if someone dies tonight, at least I’ll know it wasn’t me.”

“She has a point,” Dominic said.

“Okay,” I said. “We’ll leave you alone. This time. But I’m coming over tomorrow to check on you.”

She nodded. “That is acceptable.”

I wrote down my cell phone number on a scrap of paper and handed it to her. “Call me if you need anything.”

I knew we were doing the right thing, but it still broke my heart to leave Sanja and see her waving forlornly at us from her bedroom window.

After leaving the house, Dominic and I poked around the property looking for clues to Samantha’s predicament, but we didn’t find any unusual plants that might have put her in a coma. We left feeling down.

Despite Sanja’s self-imprisonment, there was another dead body discovered the next day.

That’s when I knew for sure she wasn’t the killer.

On Monday, the rumor
was buzzing around Nightshade High even before Principal Amador made the official announcement. The murder victim was Mr. Bellows, the shop teacher. “At least we know that Sanja didn’t do it,” I told Dominic.

“Do you think she got out somehow?” he asked me in a low voice.

I shook my head. “No way. Sanja was too scared to leave that room before sunrise, which means it’s not a Mara.”

“Then who is it?”

“Good question,” I said. “Maybe it’s time to follow up on the paintings. We know that at least two of the victims came into contact with Jensen Kenton’s paintings. Mrs. Lincoln at the library, and apparently Tad Collins owned one. It was hanging in his bedroom.”

“So what about Mr. Bellows?” Dominic asked.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “According to Raven’s research, he never even visited the exhibit.”

Daisy sent me a text message to tell me that in his police training, Ryan had heard about some evidence in Mr. Bellows’s murder. A thin piece of string had been found at the scene of the crime, but the police had no other leads.

“Jessica Walsh,” a voice said. “Hand me your phone.”

It was Mr. Martin. “But it’s snack period,” I protested. Nightshade High had a strict no-cell-phone policy except during snack period or lunch.

He held out his hand. “Hand it over.”

There was no sense arguing with him. I’d be able to pick up my phone in the office after school. Still, something made me delete Daisy’s text before I gave the phone to him.

“What was that all about?” Dominic asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “He’s new, so maybe he didn’t realize I wasn’t breaking the rules.”

Dominic pointed to a group of girls over by the vending machines. They were all texting madly. “Maybe, but he didn’t take their phones away.”

“Can I borrow your phone?” I asked. “I’m going to warn Daisy.”

Dominic handed over his phone. “Warn her about what?”

“Keep an eye out for Mr. Martin,” I told him. “I don’t want him to take your phone too.”

I held the phone discreetly in my lap and texted her a message:
Our art teacher makes marionettes. Any idea what kind of string they found? If you hear anything, call me at home after school
.

Eva was obviously a fan of this guy, but I wasn’t.

I got my phone back after school and checked it thoroughly. It looked like someone might have been scrolling through my text messages, which freaked me out. Not that there was anything exciting to read, but I liked my privacy. It wasn’t like I’d texted
Hey, I’m a virago,
but it still bothered me. Mr. Martin had been snooping, I was sure of it, and I wanted to know why.