Summer (7 page)

Up until this point I’d been leaning against the rail, but now I stood straight up, recalling Hunter’s explanation that Dean had been brought in with information specific to Summer’s case. ‘How could it
not
be random? Summer had no enemies. No one in the world would want to harm her.’

‘Take it easy,’ Dean sighed. ‘Think about it. For instance, think jealousy – you sure know all about that, Darina.’

‘I’m not … you don’t suppose … no way!’ Glancing towards the barn, I spread my palms and spluttered a denial. ‘You think I’m
jealous
of Summer!’

‘Right now you’re under the thumb of the green-eyed
monster. You’re wondering what they’re doing in there and how come Phoenix was right on the spot to save her.’

‘Jeez!’ I groaned, sitting on the chair next to him. ‘I give up, Dean. I’m a heap of crap.’

For the first time a smile crept on to his face. ‘You’re a kid,’ he said. ‘You’re allowed. So I’m about to give you a piece of advice. Not about Phoenix and Summer, and not about jealousy – I’m only a cop and that’s not my territory. This is about Scott Fichtner.’

‘And?’ I prompted after another of Dean’s heavy silences.

‘I say it’s a long shot. I reckon you should look closer to home. And I’m not saying Summer had enemies, though I do guess she had people who were jealous of her – the way she looks, the way she sings, the girl who had everything.’

‘OK,’ I said slowly.

‘And a talented girl like her gets herself known. Fans download her music, they love her and want a piece of her, including all the crazies who creep out from under a stone.’

JakB! Summer’s ‘number one fan
’. The idea hit me like a hammer blow to the head and I kicked myself for not thinking of this before.

‘Am I right or am I wrong?’ Dean asked, watching my face closely. ‘And consider something else, a whole other theory. What if a gunman came into the mall with a specific other intention and Summer was just in the wrong place at the wrong time?’

‘So we’re back to the original random-shooting theory?’ Ideas were crowding in now and I was already shelving my Fichtner suspicions for half a dozen new ones.

‘It happens,’ Dean insisted. Then he lowered his feet from the rail, stood up and walked slowly to the far end of the porch. ‘You’ve been wondering exactly what I’m doing here, haven’t you, Darina?’

‘To shadow Hunter,’ I said. ‘To eventually step into his shoes.’

‘But why now?’

‘Because you were a cop,’ I answered slowly.

He nodded. ‘In Ellerton, at the time Summer was shot.’

‘You worked on the case?’ I came in fast this time, talking over him.

‘No, I was on vacation. But I was back in the office a week later. I picked up a few pieces of information.’

‘Something that would give us an actual lead?’ All of a sudden I saw the whole picture, why Hunter had brought in Dean like he had.

‘There were no clear trails,’ he warned. ‘But plenty of theories. Listen – I’m going to give you a name and I want you to talk to the guy, OK?’

‘Tell me.’

‘This is a uniformed officer who was on duty in the mall at the time of the shooting, and his name is Henry Jardine. You got that?’

‘He’s deputy sheriff,’ I muttered. I recognized it straight away as the name Zak Rohr had dropped in – he was the cop who had handled the fire-setting incident.

‘That’s the guy. Look him up, Darina.’

I made a mental note – just in time, because I saw the barn door open and Phoenix walk out alone.

‘Go,’ Dean told me without looking round. He’d heard the creak of the door hinges. ‘Go talk to your boyfriend, clear the air. But after that you go on home and you knock on Henry Jardine’s door. And when you talk with him, you mention my name.’

‘Walk with me,’ Phoenix said.

He led the way down to the creek and we sat by the water, staring at the twisting eddies and sparkling reflections on the surface.

‘I’m sorry,’ I stammered. My self-worth had reached zero; I was wrecked by the effort not to give away
those bad, bad, jealous thoughts.

‘What are you afraid of?’ he asked, looking closely at me.

I was staring straight ahead at the cloud of white spring flowers just opened out amongst the sage bushes on the opposite bank, refusing to meet his eye.

‘You already know,’ I sighed.

‘So tell me. Say it out loud.’

I looked at him at last and tears brimmed over. ‘I’m scared, in spite of everything, you don’t love me any more.’

‘Because of what you saw back there by the barn? You think Summer and I … that there’s some chemistry?’

I nodded and the tears trickled down my cheeks. ‘I’m so sorry, Phoenix.’

Placing his fingers under my chin, he kept my face directed towards him.

‘Summer and I have a heap of things in common,’ he told me straight. ‘I never really talked with her before, when we were both on the far side. There was no time to get to know her. But sure, we spend a lot of time together now.’

Oh God, my heart was sinking. I tried to steel myself for what was coming next.

‘I’m totally in awe of her,’ Phoenix said. ‘How
can anyone not be?’

‘She’s amazing,’ I whispered, trapped in the miserable, jolting certainty that Phoenix had fallen in love with Summer. ‘Not just the obvious stuff, like her music and the way she looks, but I mean she’s an amazing person.’

‘Generous,’ he agreed. ‘And warm and funny – the total package.’

I shook my head and twisted away from him, waiting for the axe to fall. What would I do now? How could I go on?

‘But,’ Phoenix said, standing up then pulling me to my feet and keeping hold of both my hands. ‘Baby, watch my lips – I do not love Summer Madison!’

Another shock wave went through my whole body.

‘Darina, don’t be scared,’ he went on gently, his voice hardly audible. ‘You know something? This is the first time I’ve wished you were one of us. You want to know why? Because if you were Beautiful Dead, right now you could read my mind.’

I closed my eyes for long, long seconds then took a deep breath and dared to look at him again. ‘I wish the same thing. Often. In fact, every minute of every day I want to be with you, and for ever.’

He smiled sadly. ‘That’s how it is, if only you would believe me. Remember – I’ll never let you go.’

I breathed in his words, absorbed them into my heart. ‘I’m in school at a rehearsal and it looks like I’m into it, playing my part. But really my head is in a different space, out here at Foxton. I’m wondering where you are, what you’re doing. I’m hoping you’re not in danger.’

‘Don’t worry about me,’ he murmured. He pulled me closer to him. ‘I have supernatural powers, remember!’

‘Yeah,
zap – kerpow!
’ I tried to smile back but the tears kept on falling. ‘I’m looking for you around every corner, waiting for you to materialize. I’m hating Hunter for not letting you.’

‘And you’re over this jealousy thing?’ he checked. ‘Or do you want to talk with Summer about it too?’

‘No,’ I said quickly. ‘I’m over it!’

‘So now it’s my turn.’ Phoenix ran his fingers through my hair, then took my hand to walk slowly upstream. Our feet brushed through the tender spring grass and small white and purple flowers. ‘So I’m Superman but I have human weakness too.’

‘Confession time!’ I sighed. ‘Go ahead, tell.’

‘I think about you too – all the time. I’m wanting to know what you’re doing, who you’re with. Way out here in Foxton, sometimes there’s no way I can know.’

‘You have to wait until Hunter sends you?’

Phoenix nodded. ‘He keeps me on a tight leash. There’s
nothing I can do. Sometimes he sends Donna or Iceman – they report back that they’ve seen you at rehearsal for Summer’s concert, or with Logan at your house.’

‘Nothing happened!’ I cried, much too fast. ‘Logan held my hand and listened to stuff about my dad leaving home – that’s it, end of story!’

‘He held your hand?’ This was news to Phoenix and he tried hard to swallow it. ‘OK, good.’

‘No, really. You were talking about the no-chemistry thing between you and Summer – that’s the way I feel about Logan. I know he’s a good guy and he’ll always be there for me, and I’m grateful.’

‘I hear you.’ Phoenix tightened his hold on my hand and walked on.

‘And you’re cool with it?’

‘I’m cool. Moving on – Iceman was there when Zak got in your car and you drove him home.’

‘He’s in trouble. I wanted to help.’

‘Go to Brandon.’ He paused and dug the toe of his boot into some loose pebbles, making them crunch and shift.

‘Brandon has his own problems. He and your mom have been locking horns. But press Pause – go back to what you were saying about weaknesses.’

‘It’s crazy,’ he sighed. ‘I can look at you now and see you love me – it’s in your eyes, your heart.’

‘True,’ I confirmed. It was my turn to take his hand and lead him forward.

‘But I’m not really cool about Logan. When you’re away from me, spending time with him, I get scared. And Christian and Lucas – there are a hundred guys out there waiting to hit on you.’

‘Logan is my friend from way back – you know that. But zilch chemistry, like I said.’

‘For you maybe,’ Phoenix argued.

‘And that’s what counts.’ I interrupted him because once and for all I wanted to settle this. ‘You have to trust me and I have to trust you.’

We stood under an aspen tree, listening to the new leaves rustle overhead, enjoying the dappled light and shade.

‘So we agree,’ he murmured. ‘No room for doubts?’

‘Life’s too short,’ I whispered before I reached up and kissed him. ‘Honestly – for us especially.’

6

I
was on a permanent rollercoaster, up-down, up-down again with my emotions. Out at Foxton with Phoenix I was soaring over the heights, screaming with delight and hanging on for dear life. Back here in Ellerton, I was in the grey, murky depths.

‘Your mom called your cell phone three times this morning,’ Jim told me when he walked into the house with a stack of groceries. ‘You never answered.’

‘I guess I lost the signal,’ I shrugged.

‘So where were you?’

‘What is this, are we living in a police state?’

‘Laura worries about you. The least you can do is answer your phone.’

‘I said I lost the signal.’

‘She works too hard. The extra stress is bad for her.’

‘Read my lips – I lost the signal!’

I guess I pushed him a centimetre too far. ‘Darina, think about your mom for a change. Get past your own stuff and grow up!’ Jim was red in the face, slamming packages on to shelves. It was the first time he’d yelled at me, ever, in five whole years.

‘Believe me, that’s what I was doing – ditching my problems, trying to help someone else.’

Jim shook his head.

‘It’s true. You want to know who? It’s Zak Rohr, Phoenix’s thirteen-year-old brother. The kid’s in trouble with the cops.’

‘I didn’t know he had a kid brother.’ My revelation made him take the volume down a little. ‘Sure, I know about the older one, Brandon – he’s bad news and that’s one of the reasons why Laura stresses.’

‘Because I see Brandon?’

‘Yeah. Because he gave you the car. What’s that about?’

I shrugged again. ‘Why do I have to justify it? Brandon promised Phoenix he’d take care of me. What can I do?’

‘Give the car back,’ he suggested.

‘And leave myself stranded? How do I get from A to B?’

‘OK, so keep the car. But now you say the kid brother is following Brandon’s bad example. What exactly did he do?’

‘Nothing. He was there when a couple of older kids started a fire.’

‘Jeez, Darina, that’s perfect! Now the Rohrs are nurturing a crazy-boy arsonist.’

‘Zak was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I spoke to him – he swears he didn’t plan it or play any part.’

‘And you believe him?’

‘I do. I want to help him. Jim, you’ve driven a taxi, you hang out with a lot of the older guys in Ellerton. Do you know a cop called Henry Jardine?’

‘Maybe. What does Jardine have to do with Zak Rohr?’

‘He arrested the three kids outside the school janitor’s office, where they set the fire.’ Out of nowhere I was having a long conversation with my stepfather and it was going in the direction I wanted. If I played it carefully, I could pull off the difficult challenge of making direct contact with the cop Dean had told me about. ‘What kind of a guy is he?’

‘I hardly know him. I only met him through the fishing club we both go to.’

‘A fly-fisher?’ The sport was big around here, and I knew Jim spent his leisure time out at Hartmann Lake. ‘He’s cool then?’

‘He’s a regular guy and a big fisherman. Like I said, I
only see him at the lake. He’s there most Sundays.’

This was good enough. ‘Thanks, Jim,’ I told him, heading upstairs to my room. ‘And sorry about earlier. I’ll call Mom right away.’

It’s cool when I have a job to do, a new task to focus on, so I made a plan to drive out to Hartmann early next morning.

I mean, seriously early.

I was up with the dawn, creeping downstairs and out of the house before Laura and Jim were up, and I was dressed in cut-off denim shorts, Laura’s two-sizes-too-big plaid shirt and her hiking boots, secretly borrowed from her closet. How cool did I look!

The thing was – I had to appear like a regular hiker who liked to catch the early bird. Could I do it? Maybe, if I smoothed down my hair and rolled up my sleeves. I refused to leave off the mascara though – I drew the line there. I drove out through Centennial, almost forgetting to take a right turn before I reached Turkey Shoot Ridge, so programmed was I into following the route to Foxton.

‘Shoot!’ I swung the wheel at the last moment, on to the dirt road leading to the lake. On the way I passed two Jeeps carrying groups of campers who were coming away
from the National Forest camp ground. Neither gave way to my shiny red car and I ended up twice with two wheels in the ditch. On each occasion, my Summer Madison demo CD jumped out of its groove. I played it on a loop, making her the current soundtrack to my life.

‘Red sky when you say goodbye/Red sky makes me cry/Forever.’ I was singing out loud when I finally reached Hartmann, parked the car in the campsite car park alongside half a dozen SUVs and took a small shoulder pack from the trunk.

If I’m honest, this is the point where my detailed plan grew less detailed. I’d come looking for fishermen, and one in particular, so it made sense to make my way down to the lake shore where I saw figures dotted along the water’s edge, each with a rod and a line. Of course, they were too far away to make out clearly, and in any case I didn’t know what Henry Jardine looked like. So now which way did I go?

I was still hesitating when footsteps approached from behind.

‘Darina?’ It was Jon Madison speaking – he owned the footsteps and stopped in fake shock. ‘My God, is it you or did my eyes just play tricks on me?’

‘Funny, Mr Madison. Of course it’s me.’ I saw that he was carrying a big, old-time, non-digital camera, slung on
a strap around his neck, and he was dressed in the same plaid shirt and hiking boots uniform as me.

‘What are you doing out here?’

‘Hiking,’ I said with a frown. ‘What does it look like?’

‘Alone?’ Still Summer’s dad made like he couldn’t believe what he saw. ‘I didn’t have you down as an outdoors kind of girl.’

I ignored him and stated the obvious. ‘So you’re taking photographs.’

‘For Heather, actually. Hartmann is one of her favourite places.’

‘She didn’t come too?’

‘No. Lately she’s gone back to how she was after it first happened. We’re coming up to the anniversary, so she’s not strong enough to leave the house.’

‘I’m sorry, Mr Madison.’

‘Me too. Heather and Summer were the same – real sensitive, creative people. You just want to protect them from all the bad stuff in life. You know you can’t, but it doesn’t stop you trying.’

‘I hear you.’ I thought of Summer out at Foxton, the girl with the golden gifts. And of her mother, the faded, grief-stricken lady I’d seen at the party.

‘Anyways, I had the idea that showing Heather pictures of the lake in the early spring will, you know,
revive her a little. She may even use the photographs to start painting from.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I have another thought.’ He paused uncertainly. ‘How would it be if you came to visit us again?’

‘Would Heather be cool with that?’ I asked, considering her response to seeing me in Summer’s room during my birthday visit.

‘I’m guessing yes. She talks about you, says it makes her feel closer to our daughter. So will you?’

I thought for a while, then nodded.

Jon Madison took a deep breath and forced a smile. ‘Good. Call this evening then.’

‘At six-thirty,’ I promised.

‘Don’t let me hold up your hike, Darina. See you tonight.’

‘Yeah, goodbye, Mr Madison.’ I lurched off to my left, through bulrushes and reeds towards a willow thicket, not realizing that the soggy ground would suck me down.

‘Watch out!’ Summer’s dad warned, too late.

Fifty metres further along the lake’s edge, a fisherman flicked his line over his shoulder and then jerked it forwards, letting his reel unwind. I heard the whirring noise above the squelch and suck of my boots in the mud.
‘Actually, I’m out here looking for someone!’ I turned to confide in Jon Madison. ‘Do you know Henry Jardine?’ But this time it was me who was too late – Summer’s dad had taken off in the opposite direction and didn’t look round.

‘You’re looking for Henry?’ The fisherman up ahead had overheard my question. ‘You’re out of luck. He’s not here.’

Shoot again!
I didn’t have any backup to my crappy plan. ‘Are you certain?’ I checked with the old guy with the rod.

‘Trust me,’ he grunted. ‘I see everyone arrive and leave. He’s not here.’

So what could I do except turn around and squelch back towards the car park? My feet were already wet and the mud was oozing between my toes inside Laura’s boots. When I reached dry land, I sat on a rock to unlace them, not even looking up at a newly arrived fisherman who passed close by. The boots and socks were laid out in a row to dry in the sun when I heard the old guy in the distance call out a greeting to the newcomer. ‘Hey, Henry, did you talk with the girl?’

Now
I looked up. I saw the back view of the new arrival – a middle-aged man in a grey T-shirt, wearing the long rubber waders that fishermen use, with a canvas pack
slung from one shoulder and carrying a rod in his right hand. I sprang up from the rock and ran barefoot after him.

He turned towards me, obviously expecting trouble, concentrating his disapproval on my feet. Then, as I arrived, he looked me up and down. ‘Do I know you?’ he demanded.

‘No. Yes! Well, not exactly. I was a witness at the Summer Madison shooting.’

‘Honey, do you see me in uniform? Does it look like I’m on duty?’ the deputy sheriff grunted, getting ready to walk right on.

I ran to block his path. ‘You’re Henry Jardine, right? You knew Dean, the cop who was killed in a road crash?’

This halted Henry in his tracks. He didn’t let down this guard though – he kept his eyes narrowed. His drooping, dark, western-style moustache hid his mouth and stopped me reading his mood. ‘What’s Dean Dawson got to do with anything?’ he asked.

‘Nothing. He was a friend of yours?’

‘So?’

‘I … knew him. He shared a few theories with me about Summer’s death. And no, before you ask, I don’t have anything new to tell you about his crash.’

‘And I’m still out of uniform,’ Henry reminded me. But
he hung around long enough to show he was interested in what I was doing there.

‘It’s about Zak Rohr,’ I told him.

Jardine swatted a fly that buzzed around his face. ‘Zak who?’

‘Rohr. You caught him setting a fire with two other kids, remember?’

‘Oh, the Rohr family – they’re a great addition to the Ellerton community.’ He gave a hollow laugh and was about to walk on again. ‘What happened to your shoes?’ he asked as an afterthought.

‘They’re on the rock back there. Listen, I talked with Zak. He had nothing to do with the fire.’

‘You’re the girlfriend,’ Jardine recalled all of a sudden. ‘Phoenix Rohr had a girlfriend. He was planning on meeting you the night he got stabbed. Wait, I got the name on the tip of my tongue … Davina … Darina. Yeah, Darina!’

I could have praised Jardine’s powers of recall, but decided against it. Instead, I let my shoulders sag at the mention of Phoenix’s name.

‘So now you’re trying to help out the kid brother,’ Jardine went on more kindly than I’d expected. ‘But go figure – maybe he doesn’t deserve your help.’

‘I talked it through with him – the older kids—’

‘Jacob Miller and Taylor Stafford,’ Jardine interrupted.

‘It was down to them. Zak was a pure spectator.’

‘But he didn’t try to stop them.’

‘It was two bigger guys against one young kid – how could he?’

‘I hear you,’ Jardine said, turning me around and walking me back towards my footwear. ‘I already got the number of Miller and Stafford, believe me.’

‘So Zak is off your radar?’ I felt hopeful enough to press for a straight answer.

‘I’m writing a report,’ was all Henry would say.

‘Including the fact that Zak wasn’t directly involved?’

‘Let’s say I didn’t see him with the empty gas can or the lighter in his hand, and leave it at that. OK?’ We stopped by the rock with my boots and socks steaming in the sun. ‘I’m not handing out any promises,’ Jardine added.

‘Thanks,’ I said anyway and let out a relieved sigh, sitting down to pull on my soggy socks.

He kept a watchful eye on me and ran a hand over his moustache. ‘You pop right up in the centre of events, don’t you, Darina? I’m not only talking about Zak Rohr – I mean, you’ve had some serious bad luck over the past twelve months. Witness to a shooting. Bereaved girlfriend. Anything else?’

‘It’s plenty,’ I said quickly. ‘On the Summer shooting – I
was actually wondering if there are any moves to follow up the arrest of Scott Fichtner?’

‘Whoa!’ Jardine put out his hands in protest then waved his arms as if he was stopping a runaway horse.

‘Sorry,’ I mumbled. ‘I just read about it online.’

‘And you jumped to a conclusion, huh?’

‘I need to know what happened to Summer!’ Suddenly I let it all hang out – my feeling of horror at what I’d witnessed, my sense of loss.

Jardine heard it in my voice and read it in my eyes. ‘Come see me in my office,’ he told me quietly. ‘Tomorrow morning, early.’

‘It’s taking me a while, but I’m getting there,’ I told Summer as I drove out to her parents’ house in Westra.

She wasn’t with me in the car, but I guessed the Beautiful Dead had set a spy on me, so I went ahead and talked. Somehow the message would get through.