Sword Play (9 page)

As I climbed back into Dominic’s truck, I tasted salty air and disappointment.

Mrs. Sinclair explained that her older sister Izzabelle felt she’d been cheated out of her inheritance, and that the trunk belonged to her since she was the eldest. “We don’t talk much, and I wondered why she showed up last month. Now I know,” Mrs. Sinclair said bitterly. Then she told us she was through with her sister. She sounded so hurt, reminding me how I felt when I’d found out about Brianne.

“Another dead end,” I said as we drove away.

“Not an end. A delay.” Dominic offered me an encouraging smile, flipping the turn sign to merge onto Highway 101. “We have Izzabelle’s address, so we’ll find the charm. Now I’m going to take you to see your friend.”

“My friend?” I blinked. “Oh, you must mean Aileen.”

“Don’t you want to see her?”

“Sure. But it’s complicated,” I added doubtfully. “We aren’t exactly friends.”

This only spurred his curiosity. Since we had plenty of time to talk and he understood my connection to the other side, I explained about Kip. It felt good to share my story with someone who wouldn’t roll his eyes like I was crazy.

“That’s cool you’re helping a ghost,” he said when I finished.

“Most people would think it was weird, not cool.”

“Am I most people?”

He gave me a deep look that made my cheeks warm. I ignored the jump of my heart and gave a casual shrug. “Anyway, Aileen probably won’t talk to me.”

“Then let me talk to her first.”

“And say what? ‘Excuse me, but I have a message from your dead boyfriend.’”

“A definite attention grabber.” Dominic chuckled, and I found myself thinking that Dominic already had
my
attention. I liked being with him, talking to him, looking at him. I noticed how lines deepened around his blue eyes when he smiled. There was a tiny rip in the right leg of his jeans, maybe from barbed wire from the pasture fencing. And those jeans fit snug.

He kept one hand on the steering wheel, his gaze shifting to the rearview mirror then over to me, and sometimes lingering on me. I wondered what he was thinking, if he was remembering that moment after the truck accident when he held me and whispered, “I love you.” We hadn’t talked about any of this, I mean, it wasn’t right. Not fair to Josh.

A short while later we parked at Chopsticks. The parking lot was packed; a good indication of great food. My stomach rumbled, reminding me I’d skipped lunch.

But food would have to wait.

Dominic waved at me, then disappeared inside the small restaurant. I leaned out the truck window, inhaling delicious food smells. Overhead I heard a squawk and saw that Dagger was back. It was odd how the wild bird stayed so close to Dominic. I respected Dominic’s connection to wild creatures, although I didn’t understand it. When I asked about it, he always gave vague answers.

He was so damned secretive. I could make a list of the things I knew about him and not go into double digits. I didn’t even know his full name!

Dominic … what? Smith, Miller, or Johnson? Dominic Smith … Nah, that didn’t sound right. Something as ordinary as a last name shouldn’t be a big secret. Hmmm … there must be a way to find out.

His brand new truck! Dominic must have filled out a registration and other paperwork. There was nothing on the dashboard, so I popped open the glove box. There was a large owner’s manual on the truck, napkins, sunglasses, a packet of almonds, and assorted official papers. Just as I reached for these papers, I heard my name being called and saw Dominic returning.

Quickly, I shoved the papers back and slammed the glove box. Then I sat up in my seat, smiling innocently like nothing had happened.

“Hey,” I greeted him casually. “How’d it go?”

“Better than expected.” He yanked open my door. “Come on, Sabine.”

I raised my brows. “Where?”

“Inside. Aileen wants to talk with you.”

“Are you sure? She doesn’t even know me.”

“She knows who you are. Even got excited when I said you were here. Wants to talk to you. Privately.”

“But why?” I didn’t quite believe what I was hearing.

“Go find out. I’ll wait here.”

I bit my lip, struck by a strong urge to climb back in the truck and get out of here. But then I’d never find any answers. And I had a feeling I was close to learning something important.

What could Aileen want from me? I wondered as I reached for the door of the restaurant. We’d never met and I only had a fuzzy idea of what she looked like.

Our only connection was a dead guy.

* * *

Aileen’s black ponytails were held into place with wooden chopsticks. She was petite and moved in a quick, bouncy way that reminded me of a bunny—a very nervous bunny. I noticed her anxiously biting her lip as she waved me to a private corner of the restaurant. We sat across from each other at a small rounded table with a gold-fringed tablecloth.

“You wanted to talk to, uh, me?” I asked cautiously, clasping my hands on the table. “About Kip?”

“Yeah … about my Kip.” Her aura, gray with despair, was like a heavy blanket smothering me.

“I didn’t really know him,” I told her.
At least not while he was alive.

“But you knew he was going to die.”

“I wasn’t sure—it was just a dream.”

“A dream that happened,” she said sadly.

I nodded grimly. This whole conversation felt surreal. I’d expected Kip’s girlfriend to hate me, but she seemed happy to see me.

“You were the messenger, that’s all,” she said sadly. “I’ve read up on psychics and supernatural experiences since … well, you know.”

I nodded, at a loss for words. Her waves of grief rolled over me, her aura had no colors, only a dreary gray fog.

“At least you tried to help, which was more than anyone else did … including me.” Abruptly, she stood and reached for a silver pitcher. “Would you like some water?”

“No, thanks.” She poured herself a glass and I had a feeling she was stalling, deciding what to tell me. But why tell me anything? Why even talk to me?

“Are you all right?” I asked gently.

“I haven’t been all right for over six months. Can you believe he’s been gone that long already? I still think of him every day. He was more than my boyfriend, we were soul mates, and I thought we were going to be together—” Her voice broke. “Together forever.”

“I’m so sorry.”

She looked away, taking a sip of water. “I’ve wanted to talk to you since … after.”

“Why?” I asked softly.

“Because you got a raw deal. Only I didn’t know for a while. At first I was in bad shape and seriously depressed,” she confessed. “My parents thought I might do something dumb—which I wouldn’t—and made me see a doctor and take pills. I was so messed up, I cried for weeks. When I was recovered enough to return to school, I heard you’d been forced to leave.”

“Not exactly forced. I moved in with my grandmother.”

“But it was totally unfair. I felt awful when I found out. Arcadia High is full of morons.”

“No argument there,” I said with a wry smile.

“Kip would have been furious if he knew.”

“Oh, he knows,” I murmured. He wasn’t furious, though, and seemed more intent on his own issues. Death hadn’t improved him
that
much.

She leaned closer, scrutinizing me. “Can you tell me … how is he? I know you’re special, that you know things.”

“I don’t know that much, except he cares about you a lot.”

“I miss him so much,” she said, her eyes shining, “Everyone knew we’d hooked up, but no one knew how it was so, you know, serious. You’ve seen him, right? So he must have told you that we were engaged.”

“Engaged!” My hand jerked, hitting the table and shaking her water glass. “But you’re too young.”

“Who says? Age doesn’t matter, besides my parents were crazy about him and were excited about our engagement. He didn’t get a chance to tell his family. We planned to get married after graduation, and he was saving up to buy me a ring.” She paused, glancing down at her unadorned hands. “I was going to be Mrs. Kip Hurst.”

“I’m so sorry,” was all I could think of to say.

“It wasn’t your fault. That whole petition thing was outrageous. I couldn’t believe what was going on. One of my friends tried to get me to sign it, but I refused.”

“Thank you,” I said sincerely. How ironic that someone who didn’t know me treated me more fairly than the friend who knew me best.

“Things that aren’t fair make me boil. That’s why I wanted to talk to you, so you’d know that I wasn’t like all those jerks. Besides if anyone is to blame, it’s me.” She frowned. “I let Kip down.”

“You didn’t. It was an accident.”

“But I sent him to his death.” She grew quiet and pale. “I haven’t told anyone what really happened that night, but you deserve to know.”

“What?”

“That it was all my … my fault.” Her voice cracked.

“No, it wasn’t,” I said, gently patting her quaking shoulders. “He was speeding and lost control of his car.”

“Only because he was upset because of what I did … or what I wouldn’t do.”

“What are you saying?”

She sucked in a deep breath, then slowly blew it out. “What everyone thinks is only half right. So what if we had a few drinks after the prom? I mean, who didn’t? It was prom night, for Christ’s sake. Most of our friends went to all-night parties, and we got invited to a few, but we wanted to be alone. So we didn’t stick around to find out who made Prom King and Queen. It was gonna be the most romantic night of my life and we had all these wonderful plans … ” Her voice cracked. “No one but me knows why Kip was driving so fast that night.”

My heart revved up, but I kept my expression calm, encouraging her to go on with a sympathetic, “What happened?”

“First you have to understand about my contract.”

“Contract?”

She glanced around to make sure we were completely alone, then whispered, “The chastity contract. I pledged not to have sex till marriage and signed it in front of my minister. See this ring I wear on a chain?” She lifted a gold chain with a small white ring from her neck. “Everyone who made the pledge got one of these rings. It was sacred to me, but Kip thought it was a joke.”

He would
, I thought.

“When we first started going out and I told him about my pledge, he was okay with it. But then we got closer and—” Her cheeks reddened. “Well, he kept pushing me to break my contract. I refused, even though I was afraid he’d dump me. But he didn’t dump me—instead he asked me to marry him. That was the happiest day of my whole life. And I wanted to show him how much I cared, so I promised to tear up the contract on prom night.”

I shifted uneasily in my chair, a little embarrassed. Still nothing short of a natural disaster would stop me from listening.

“All during the prom, I kept thinking about the contract, feeling guilty, and not able to enjoy myself. I was so nervous. Afterwards, Kip drove a few miles to a hotel, but I couldn’t make myself get out of the car. I panicked and couldn’t go through with it. He got all pissed and called me ugly names. I was crying, begging him to still love me, but he didn’t say anything and just dropped me off at my house. Then he sped off without saying goodbye … and I never saw him alive again.”

“Oh, Aileen. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Except reject the love of my life and send him to his death. That’s why it was wrong for anyone to blame you. I mean, I was the guilty one.”

“Kip was the one driving and at fault. Not you. Or me. I’ve put it behind me—you should, too.”

“How can I?” She sniffled, tears shining in her dark eyes. “Don’t you see? Kip was my soul mate. My perfect other half and the only guy for me.”

“You’ll find someone else.”

“Never. I’ll always love Kip.”

“Oh, Aileen. You don’t mean that.”

“But I do. I’ve pledged myself to stay true to him forever.” She tucked the chain back in her top, then reached out with cold fingers to touch my hand. “I will never date again.”

Never date again? I hoped Aileen wasn’t serious. But what if she was? Death had a ripple effect and could tragically hurt so many people. Life may go on, but with pieces missing.

Feeling protective of Aileen, I kept what she told me in confidence. When Dominic asked what I’d learned, I just said Aileen was still grieving for Kip.

But alone in my room, I thought over what she told me and realized something important. Aileen must be
the girl
—the one Kip wanted me to help. And now that I’d met her, I wanted to help her, too. She was too sweet to be miserable and lonely forever. I needed to convince her to get out and start living her life again. Maybe love again, too.

I didn’t know how I’d accomplish this, but I’d figure out something now that I knew who Kip wanted me to help.

At least I thought I knew—until a few hours later when Amy rushed into my room and announced that she’d found out who Kip wanted me to help.

And it wasn’t Aileen.

* * *

Amy sat on the edge of my bed, her legs tucked underneath her, leaning forward with an eager expression. Her long dark hair was tied back in a purple scrunchie and she wore a T-shirt with a stack of books smashing a clock and the logo, “So Many Books. So Little Time.”

“Aren’t you excited by what I found out?” she asked.

I could only manage a weak nod.

“I knew you’d be! I wanted to tell you last night, only we got home late and you were already asleep. Then this morning you left before I even got up. Mom was yelling cause your note didn’t say much. She says you have to stay put until she gets home from a church auxiliary meeting so you guys can talk.”

“Just great,” I said with a gulp.

“It’s no big deal, only stuff about school.”

“That’s what worries me. Did she say which school?”

“No.” Amy shook her head. “But she seems pleased with everything, so it can’t be that bad.”

“I hope not. So tell me more about Leanna.”

“You were right to suspect her.”

I remembered telling Amy that Kip’s ghost asked me to help an unknown girl. At first I thought he meant Leanna. But that was before I met Aileen.

My little sister scooted closer on my bed, pushing back a loose dark curl dangling around her excited face. “Leanna’s got a secret.”

“What makes you think that?”

“Yesterday while Ashley and I had manicures, Leanna’s mother was getting her hair permed a few chairs away and I heard major stuff.”

“Eavesdropping?” I teased.

“And darned good at it.” My little sister nodded proudly.

“What’d you hear?”

“Mrs. Hurst was talking loud since her head was under a dryer so it was easy to listen. Someone asked how she was doing. She said she was fine, but her daughter was still suffering. That’s the word she used. Suffering.”

“Suffering how?” I leaned forward eagerly.

“I don’t know. Maybe she’s sick.”

“She didn’t look sick. What else did Mrs. Hurst say?”

“Nothing about Leanna, just boring grown-up stuff.” Amy flipped a dark tendril from her face. “But I can snoop around to find out—”

“Don’t waste your time.” I put up my hand. “Leanna isn’t the right girl.”

“She is too!” Amy insisted. “She’s so sick, she’s probably dying.”

“You’re just guessing. I found the girl Kip wants me to help.”

“Who?”

“Kip’s girlfriend. I talked to her and she’s really messed up.”

My sister pursed her lips. “Kip probably had lots of girlfriends, but he only had one sister. Leanna needs our help. If you don’t help her, Kip’s gonna be real mad at you. He’ll keep haunting you forever.”

“I doubt that. He has better things to do than hang around haunting me. Besides, I don’t know how to help Leanna.”

“Just use your powers.”

“Sure. While I’m at it I’ll get rid of global warming, poverty, and pollution. Seriously, I’m just a tool for communication—a phone has more powers than I do. I never know when a ghost or spirit will contact me.”

“Kip talked to you because his sister is in trouble,” my sister insisted.

“Not my problem.”

“You have to help.”

“Amy, you’re impossible.” I let out a weary breath. “Let’s say Leanna is the right girl—what can I do?”

“That’s what I’m gonna find out when I go to her—”

Amy was interrupted by a sharp knock on my door.

“Sabine, are you in there?” my mother called.

“I’ll fill you in later. “ Amy jumped off my bed and went over to the door and opened it. “Hi, Mom. I gotta go.”

Amy disappeared down the hall as my mother strode into my room. Her expression was solemn and her arms held an ominous-looking orange folder.

“Sabine, we’re going to talk,” she said in a no-nonsense tone. “No more going to bed early or rushing off without letting me know what you’re doing.”

“I left a note.”

“You call that a note? Out with a friend? What friend? Out where? And no mention of when you planned to be back.”

“I didn’t think you’d mind. You could have tried my cell phone.”

“I did.” Her eyes narrowed.

Checking my purse, I found out my phone was dead. Oops. Guess I should have recharged it. But hardly anyone had my cell number; most of my friends preferred email.

Mom strode over to my desk and set the orange folder down. She was all business and agitated. Her determined expression spelled out trouble as she grabbed a chair, turned it around, then sat down to face me.

Instead of meeting her gaze, I noticed how her hands were folded, one elegantly overlapping the other. The diamond in her wedding ring was as large as her thumbnail, reflecting sunlight coming through my window, sending sparkles across my wall. Her nails were squared and manicured in a French style. Her skin was slightly darker and rougher than mine. And there was a tiny scar on her right knuckle, an injury from when she and Dad played couples tennis. But now they were more like two singles than a couple.

“Sabine!” she said sternly. “Would you pay attention to me? It’s important we discuss your education.”

Trapped, with no escape this time,
I thought, fighting the panic rising in me. I eyed that thick orange folder and saw my own name scrawled across the flap. Enrollment papers, for my new school. (Or my old school?) I might as well find out what my mother had planned—even if she ended up ruining my entire life.

“Okay, tell me,” I said in the same tone a death row inmate would use to find out how many days before execution. “Am I going to a private school?”

Mom shook her head, the dark blond waves so carefully arranged they didn’t move. “I researched private schools, but found none of them adequate.”

“Well I’m NOT going back to Arcadia High!” I exclaimed, jumping up and folding my arms across my chest. “No way. Not ever! If that’s what you’re going to tell me, I don’t want to hear it.”

“Would you sit down and act reasonably?” she asked in this calm voice that made me want to throw something at her. Didn’t she realize it was my life we were discussing? She couldn’t just make decisions without asking me. I wasn’t ten like my sisters, I was almost an adult. I had a right to choose my own school. I’d given up a lot to move back home for her, and this was how she repaid me? By sending me back to a school where I’d be shunned and insulted and ignored?

I started to reach for my suitcase, when Mom put her hand on my arm. “Sabine, would you please listen without jumping to wrong conclusions?”

“Wrong?” I sniffed. “You said it wasn’t a private school and the nearest public school is Arcadia High.”

“I would never allow you to return to that narrow-minded school.”

“You wouldn’t?” If I hadn’t been sitting down, I would have fallen over. “So what school am I going to?”

“None.”

“What?” I stared at her in shock. “You’re home-schooling me?”

“Me? Heaven forbid! Even if I had the time, I wouldn’t have the patience.” She chuckled. “I doubt either of us would survive that.”

“Okay, so no Arcadia High,” I said counting off with my fingers. “No private school. No home school. Guess I’m dropping out.”

“Ha, ha.” She frowned, not at all amused.

“Then what? What’s left?”

Mom handed the orange folder to me and said, “Open it.”

Uneasily, I opened the folder and pulled out bundles of papers. Assignments for English, calculus, science, Spanish, etc, all from teachers with names I recognized.

“These are
my
teachers! From Sheridan High.”

“Exactly.” Mom nodded.

“I don’t understand,” I said, wrinkling my brow.

“You would if you’d simply listen.”

“I
am
listening.”

“I researched all options and concluded since it’s mid-semester, it would be too disruptive for you to change schools. So I made all the arrangements for independent study.”

“Not a new school?”

“You won’t attend school at all. Until the semester is over, and I can make better arrangements, you’re still a student of Sheridan High.”