Unspeakable (18 page)

Gail laughed. She shook it enthusiastically, and didn't let go.

“Listen, I wouldn't be so excited about it,” he warned. “I'm pretty screwed up right now. I don't know what's happening with this Wade Grinnell guy who took over when you hypnotized me. That second time you hypnotized me, he was talking pretty casually about people getting stabbed. . . .”

Gail let go of his hand and stepped back.

“This Wade, he . . .” Collin hesitated. He didn't want to tell her that Wade Grinnell was a suspected serial killer who had been dead for fifty years. He still couldn't quite believe it himself. He sighed. “Well, you saw for yourself what a slime-bucket he was. And I can't remember anything I said or did while I was under. So—I can't really be sure if he didn't emerge that night my mom was murdered.”

“But it was all over the Internet,” Gail said. “The guys who murdered your mother were killed. You just said so earlier, case closed. Besides, I don't know much about forensics and all that jazz. But if you—well, if you'd stabbed your mother and shot her boyfriend, don't you think the police would have picked up some kind of evidence of that?”

Collin couldn't look at her. “Maybe Wade Grinnell didn't kill them. But who's to say he didn't come out that night and see the killers? He might have even helped.”

“Jesus, you're scaring me,” she whispered.

“It scares me, too.” He took her hand in his. “Listen, Gail, there's a way of finding out for sure. You could hypnotize me again.”

She shook her head. “No, I—”

“Please? I need to know if this Wade person had anything to do with their murders. . . .”

“I'm sorry, Collin.” She let go of his hand. “I don't want to go through that again. You need to find someone else to hypnotize you. In fact, you should talk to a therapist about this. A lot of them do hypnosis, too, like my aunt. She's in Seattle now. You should go see her.”

Collin frowned. He'd hoped once he told Gail the truth about who he really was, she'd want to help him. Wouldn't a big performing arts fan make some concessions for a former child star? But she was afraid, and he didn't blame her. He was scared of Wade, too.

“Listen, I'm sorry about your mother, Collin.” She stroked his arm. “And I'm sorry you're having these—
episodes
. In fact, I kind of feel responsible. I'm the one who talked you into getting hypnotized in the first place. But—well, what does any of this have to do with our house getting robbed?”

“You said you think someone's watching you. I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way.” He reached into his pocket and took out the folded-up note. “In fact, take a look at this. Someone on the ferry left this on the windshield of my car today.”

Gail studied it. “Are you sure it's not just a stalker? After all, you're famous. . . .” She handed the note back to him. “And I still don't understand what this has to do with our house getting broken into.”

“I have a feeling my mom's killers aren't really dead,” he admitted. “If Wade Grinnell emerged that night, he could have seen or done something I don't remember. These killers—if they're still around—they might think I know a lot more than I do. That's why I think someone's keeping tabs on me. If I'm right, then they must have seen us hanging out together, Gail. They probably figured I've told you something.”

“My God,” she whispered. “So that's why they tore my room apart—and took my computer and looked at my diary. . . .”

“My guess is they're checking our emails to each other. Did you write anything in your diary about me?”

“Well, yes, but that was before I knew you were
Collin Cox
.” She started rubbing her arms as if she had a chill. “So you're saying the people who broke into our house may have killed your mother and her boyfriend?”

“It's possible,” he said. “I don't know for sure. . . .”

“Then we need to tell the police.”

Collin sighed. “The police think my mother's killers are dead. And when you tell them what I just told you, they're going to think I'm bat-shit crazy. Hell, maybe I am. But if you could hypnotize me again, Wade might tell us something. He could confirm a lot of this.”

“You talk about him like he's somebody else,” she said.

“He is,” Collin replied.

She shook her head. “No, I'm sorry. I can't hypnotize you—at least, not tonight. I've had enough excitement for one day. I still say we should call the police.” She warily eyed the bushes on either side of their porch. “How do you know these people aren't somewhere out there, looking at us right now?”

“Gail, if they've seen your diary and everything on your computer, they'll know you didn't have a clue about who I am—or about my mother's murder. They probably won't be back. I doubt whoever's responsible for this robbery would come back to the crime scene so soon.” He took hold of her hand again. “Listen, before we call the cops—and they laugh us into oblivion—could you at least
think
about putting me under again?”

Her eyes searched his for a moment. “Okay,” she finally sighed. “I'll sleep on it—if I can sleep at all tonight. Maybe by morning, the cops will find whoever pulled this break-in.” She let out a stunned little laugh and shook her head at him. “I still can't believe I'm standing here talking to
Collin Cox
.”

“Could you do me a favor and keep it secret for a while?”

“Can I tell my folks, at least?”

“I guess. Just ask them to keep it under wraps, okay?”

“Sure. You know, I was just thinking once I go back inside, I need to get on the Internet and Google you. But—well, wouldn't you know? Some asshole stole my computer.”

Collin managed to laugh. “Would you like me to pick you up in the morning? I can drive you to school.”

Gail seemed to blush a little. “Well, sure. That sounds nice. Is around a quarter to eight okay with you?”

“I'll be here.” Collin wanted to kiss her. But he just squeezed her hand. “Thanks, Gail. Thanks for not laughing at me.”

She nodded and smiled. “You're welcome, Collin Cox.”

 

 

The man sat alone in the black Saturn, parked two houses down and across the street from the Pelhams'. From the driver's seat, he watched Collin Cox climb inside his Taurus and back out of the driveway.

The man held a snow globe with a Disney figure inside. He wasn't sure if it was Pluto or Goofy. Whatever, he'd taken a shine to it. He kept turning it upside down and letting the snow collect. Then he'd turn it right side up again, and watch the little blizzard swirling inside the globe.

There was nothing in the girl's journal and nothing in her laptop hard drive. She probably didn't have a clue what was going on.

Still, she was a loose end.

She stood on the front porch for another minute after Collin Cox's car had pulled away down the block.

He turned the globe upside down again. While the snow accumulated in the glass ball, he watched Gail Pelham step inside the house. She looked like a nice kid—from a nice family.

Too bad it just wasn't going to be their night.

 

 

Dee switched on the outside lights. “Lord, Andy, why you couldn't have done this over the weekend—or at least in the daytime—is beyond me.”

She'd made his grandfather put on his fall jacket, and said the chicken casserole dinner could keep for another fifteen minutes. “Now, don't try to carry a lazy man's load!” she called to Collin and his grandfather as they headed out to the back patio.

“Lazy man's load” was another one of his grandparents' expressions, but Collin had this one figured out. It meant they shouldn't carry too much at one time to avoid taking more trips. Collin and his grandfather were going to move the patio furniture into the garage for the winter.

They started with the round wrought-iron table that had a glass top. They carried it together, maneuvering up a well-lit stone pathway to the garage's side door. “Listen, kiddo,” his grandfather said, panting a bit. “I didn't want to say anything in front of your grandmother. But where did you go today?”

Collin was careful to keep the table balanced. “Pardon?”

“I spoke to my friend Art Honeycutt. He mentioned he saw you on the eight-fifteen ferry to Seattle this morning. He said you were alone. I didn't know the schools were on holiday, Collin. . . .” He teetered a bit as they approached the garage. “Hold it. Let's put this down for a second. Careful of the walkway lights. . . .” They set the table on the sloped path. “Anyway,” his grandfather continued. “I called the school and talked to a very nice lady in the principal's office. I asked if they had you marked as absent today, and she said yes. So where'd you go off to?”

Collin shrugged. “I'm sorry, I just—well, I wanted to check out the old neighborhood. I was feeling kind of sentimental. I didn't do anything except drive around for a while.”

His grandfather frowned at him across the tilted table. He looked so disappointed.

“I'm sorry, Grandpa,” he said. “It was a spur-of-the-moment thing. I know it was really dumb to skip school like that. But once I got on the ferry, there was no turning back.”

“You told your grandmother you were at the school library.”

“I know,” Collin muttered. “I'm sorry I lied. It—it won't happen again.”

“Well, I guess what your grandmother doesn't know won't hurt her. I straightened it out with the school and told them you were running an errand for me. C'mon . . .” His grandfather hoisted up his half of the table, and they lugged it into the garage. “Here's fine,” he announced. They set the table in the corner, a few feet away from Collin's Taurus.

Collin hoped that was the end of the discussion. But as they started back on the stone trail to the patio, his grandfather stopped and put a hand on his shoulder. “I've noticed you've been acting kind of strange since yesterday morning—withdrawn,” he said. “You haven't been yourself. Your grandmother and I are concerned about you.”

The irony of that comment “You haven't been yourself” wasn't lost on Collin. He sighed. “Like I said, I've been feeling sentimental—and blue. I didn't mean to worry you guys.”

“You know, I didn't do such a bang-up job with your mother. I should have seen some of the signs when she first started pulling away from us. I was too busy running a company to see that my daughter was skipping school, disappearing for hours at a time, and then lying to your grandmother and me.” He shook his head. “I just can't let that happen all over again, not with you. It would kill me.”

“It won't,” Collin murmured.

“You know, you can tell me anything, and I'll try to understand. That said, can I ask you a question? I promise I won't be upset—as long as you answer me truthfully.”

Collin felt a little pang in his gut. With reluctance, he nodded. “Go ahead.”

The old man's eyes narrowed at him. “Did you sneak a friend into the house late last night after your grandmother and I went to bed?”

Collin blinked. “What?”

“I got up to go to the bathroom around a quarter to four this morning, and thought I heard someone talking. It didn't sound like you, so I went down the hallway and stood outside your door. I heard this fellow mumbling something. I couldn't make out what he was saying. But it wasn't you, I could tell that much.”

Collin stared at him. “I—I don't know what you heard. I must have fallen asleep with the TV on low or something.”

His grandfather didn't say anything. He just frowned.

“Grandpa, I didn't sneak anyone into the house last night, I swear. I mean, you guys have been cool about Fernando spending the night here. If I wanted a friend to sleep over, I'd have asked you. Besides, I don't have any other friends.” He sighed. “Anyway, I was alone—and asleep. You must have heard the TV.”

Old Andy shrugged, and seemed to work up a smile. “You're right. It was probably the TV I heard. I'm hungry. Let's go eat. We can put the rest of this stuff away later.”

As he headed up the stone path to the patio with his grandfather, Collin was quiet. He'd been wondering earlier if Wade Grinnell ever came out while he was asleep.

Now he had his answer.

 

 

His grandmother's chicken noodle casserole had been delicious, but Collin figured he needed a blowtorch to clean the dried, burnt crust off the casserole dish. He was washing the dishes after dinner—to give Dee a break. He was used to it after so many years of cleaning up after his mother. He decided to let the casserole dish soak, and turned off the water. Drying his hands, he pulled the note out of his pocket again:

The house phone rang. His grandmother must have picked it up in the study. After a few moments, she called to him: “Collin, honey, telephone!”

Shoving the note back in his pocket, he grabbed the cordless off the kitchen counter. “Thanks, Dee,” he said into the phone. Then he heard a click as she hung up the other extension. “Hello?”

“Collin, this is Marisa Ryan. Do you—do you have any idea where Fernando is?”

“Oh, hi, Mrs. Ryan,” he said. The question had thrown him for a loop. “Um, no. Isn't he answering his cell?”

“No, and I've tried him several times.”

“Well, I missed school today. I haven't talked with him since we got together yesterday afternoon. Did you try calling Gail Pelham?”