Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3) (54 page)

Crimson’s flight to freedom turned into an immediate
run for cover. Just as she made it to the dressing room, she
heard footsteps and hid behind the rack of costumes.
She
waited until she was certain that Jonas wasn’t returning then
ran barefoot through the snow to the first open business she
could find where she called the police.

As each person gave their account of what happened
the night before, I could sense growing apprehension from
both Zach and
Lucas—and
neither one of them
seemed
willing to explain what brought them to the theater.
They
both gave vague, brief explanations of how they ended up
there right when I needed them.

“I thought Rachel was still there. While I was looking
around, Jonas hit me on the head from behind. I woke up tied
up,” was Zach’s excuse.

“I went back because I forgot my phone. I heard
noises and went to investigate,” was Lucas’s.

While I felt that at least part of their responses were
true,
I knew that they were both still hiding
something.
Something big.

Secrets
keeping them.
were far less
fun when
I
wasn’t the one
41. Kiss and Control

Most days
my
shifts
at Something
Wick-ed were
pretty much the same—stocking shelves and listening to old
ladies
complaining
that
the shelves
were
never stocked.
Aside from
occasional visits
from
friends, everyone who
walked through the door was there to shop for candles—not
to talk to me. My next day at work was anything but typical.

About twenty minutes after I opened, a fancy black car
rolled up outside and parked directly in front of the store.
Cars like that one usually didn’t drive
through
Charlotte’s
Grove let alone stop here. It just wasn’t a fancy car kind of
town so obviously I was curious to see who got out of it.

A dapper looking older gentleman stepped out of the
luxury sedan wearing a long coat and a bowler hat. He used a
gleaming silver cane to help himself up onto the sidewalk and
came to a stop in front of the store.
He glanced at the sign as
though he were making sure he was in the right place then
proceeded to pull the door open. He carried with him an air
of
sophistication
and
refinement
and
I
found
myself
straightening my spine as he approached. He simply wasn’t
the kind of man you slouched in front of.

“I don’t even have to ask your name. I can see right
away that you are Ruby Matthews,” he said with a stern deep
voice. “You are exactly who I came to see.”

Me? Wtf?! I immediately ran down through the list of
things I possibly could have done to attract the attention of a
man like him. He wasn’t the kind of guy who paid social visits
for no reason—he was clearly all business. His mere presence
left me speechless.

“My name is Giuseppe, Giuseppe Mazzerati. Some
most unfortunate occurrences have led me back to your small
town. Something even more unfortunate has led me to you.”

I relaxed slightly when I realized who he was—he was
Jonas’s father. Then I realized that he was probably there to
accuse me of killing his son and I stiffened my spine a bit
more. This was going to be awkward.

“Mr. Mazzerati, I can explain—,“ I began with
absolutely no freakin’ clue of how I was going to explain
anything to him whatsoever.

“No,” he said as he raised a white gloved hand in
protest, “it is I who should be explaining things to you.”

 

Okay, now I was just confused. And scared, definitely
still scared.

“I’m here to explain and to apologize,” he said as he
lifted a small heart shaped candle from the display, examined
it then placed it back on the shelf. “I heard about all of the
terrible things that my son has done and I feel that I am to
blame.”

My first impression of him was that there wasn’t a
single thing in this world that this man and I could possibly
have in common but I was wrong.
Guilt, we both shared
misplaced guilt.

“But I’m
sure
that none
of it
was
your—.”
With
another raise of the white glove, I stopped mid-sentence.

“Please hear me out before you make that statement,
Miss Matthews. I knew that my son was not mentally well.
I’ve known that his whole life.
He was a difficult child but
never dangerous.
When his mother left us, Jonas was only
five years old. She couldn’t handle the strain of caring for a
child like him and ran away with a young stage hand. I kept
hoping that she would return once she remembered her love
for both Jonas and me. Repeatedly, I told him that if he was an
obedient and patient boy, his mother would return to him.”

“As the months and years passed, he became more
and more anxious for her return and I noticed a disturbing
change in him.
He began to withdraw emotionally into a
fantasy world where he saw himself as The Phantom.
He
found a series
of
long
forgotten passageways
within
the
theater itself and roamed them during each production. You
can imagine how excited he
became
when
he
overheard
people attributing his nightly wanderings to The Phantom of
the Bantam.
The Phantom of the Opera
was his mother’s
personal favorite and I think he thought that if he became the
Phantom, that she would return.”

“Eventually, I knew that I couldn’t
indulge
his
fantasies
any longer.
I blocked off the passageways
and
removed the masks from the balcony.
Those masks were
fashioned in his mother’s likeness shortly before she left us
and he stared at them constantly. She was such a beautiful
woman, my Madeline. You bear a striking resemblance to her.
I see why Jonas became fascinated with you.”

Just when I thought I’d figured out everything there
was to know in this strange set of circumstances, I discovered
one last clue that I never should have missed.
The day that
mask fell from the balcony, Jonas told us that it was the
likeness of Charlotte Baker. I should have realized right there
that something was wrong. A portrait of Charlotte hung on
the wall at Rosewood and I walked past it several times each
day.
That mask looked nothing like her—it more closely
resembled Scarlet who in turn looked a lot like me. If I’d paid
more attention to the details, even Jonas would be alive today.
I listened even more intently to Giuseppe’s story, enthralled at
the intricacies of it all.

“When I saw that this only made his obsession grow, I
took him away from here.
Life in New York City, while
difficult at first, seemed to be exactly what he needed to break
free of his imagined persona. For years, he behaved normally
and I believed that the worst was behind us.”

“Five years ago, the college theater arts group
attempted to reopen the theater but I never learned of the
tragic death that occurred during this time. Returning to the
Bantam must have retriggered his obsession and led him to
kill that poor young girl. Jonas and I lost touch in the last few
years and I believed him to still be teaching in New York. If I
hadn’t been so wrapped up in my own career and sharp
denial of my son’s dangerous potential, lives would have been
saved.”

Giuseppe sighed heavily and motioned to the stool
beside me. “May I?”

 

“Of course,” I replied and pulled it out for him.

He dug into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out
what appeared to be an expensively bound leather checkbook
and a black pen. “I did not tell my son the truth about his
mother because I didn’t want him to feel as abandoned as I
did. Because of that lie, innocent people died. I will pay for
that mistake for the rest of my life.
I will compensate the
families of those whose lives he took as well as you and the
other young lady who survived.”

I watched with curiosity as his pen swirled elegantly
around on the paper, unable to see the amount. I wasn’t a
greedy person—I was simply hoping that the check would be
enough to cover even a third of the cost of replacing the
window in the school. I’d never had to raise three thousand
dollars before and every little bit I could contribute myself
would make the job that much easier.

He carefully tore the check out of the book, folded it
precisely in the middle then handed it to me. “I only ask two
things
of you.
First,
when
you
cash this
I
want you
to
remember that while lying may feel good at the time, the
truth will always feel better in the end.”

I nodded my head in agreement. While I pondered the
fact that he seemed to know exactly how I felt in so many
ways, he stood up slowly and made his way to the door.
Before he left, he said one last thing.

“Second, I ask that you grant this old man the pleasure
of your attendance
for the opening
night of “A
Phantom
Affair”. Without Jonas, I am its only possible director. It was
my son’s twisted view of love and devotion but it is my only
way of honoring his memory.”

“I will,” I agreed with enthusiasm. While Jonas was a
psychopath in everyone else’s eyes, I couldn’t forget that to
his father he was something else entirely. He was a terrible
regret.

I waited until the car was out of sight before I opened
up the folded slip of paper in my hand. Twice, I blinked and
counted the zeros I found on it.
When I came up with the
same number the second time, I screamed out loud.
In my
hand was a check for one hundred thousand dollars.

From that moment on, my luck seemed to change.
Everything started to go my way for once.
The x-rays Dad
ordered on my ribcage revealed that the injuries I sustained
when I flew through the wall were merely bad bruises and
that nothing was broken. When I tried to give Mr. Raspatello
a check to pay for the window, he refused it. He explained
that he thought I would learn more from the fundraising
experience than I would by simply forking over some cash.
Since he had heard about the kidnapping, though, he gave me
an extension on getting the Black Raven Society under way.
He was also happy to inform me that one of my short stories
made it to the semifinal round of the contest he entered it in.
I walked away from our conversation three thousand one
hundred dollars richer.

My luck held out all week, too. Better grades on tests
than I was anticipating, Coach Hunter very excitedly begged
me to put my name on the signup sheet for track—my hair
was even behaving. The only thing that fell short of perfect
was my love life.
Every time either Zach or Lucas asked to
spend time with me, I would make up some excuse for why I
couldn’t. But I’d been running from the problem for way too
long—it was time to put it all to rest.
I resolved to discuss it
with Shelly sometime over the weekend in hopes of having it
all sorted out by Monday.

Friday was opening night of A Phantom Affair and
Rachel was more excited than I’d ever seen her before.
Now
that Crimson was safe, she could completely focus on her
acting debut.
She pranced around school all day like she
expected everyone to ask for her autograph. No one did, of
course, but it didn’t discourage her the slightest bit. Show
time was at seven but she asked me—who for some odd
reason she’d begun calling her ingénue—to meet her at the
theater at six to help her get dressed.
I obliged as any good
ingénue would.

Rachel showed no signs of stage fright whatsoever so
when she jumped up and ran for the restroom mid-sentence, I
was baffled. After about ten minutes, I started to worry. Once
fifteen minutes passed, I went to look for her.
The curtain
would be going up in ten minutes. She needed to pull herself
together and do it fast.

“Rachel,” I called as I entered the restroom. “It’s
almost seven! Finish throwing up already—you’ll be just fine.
You know your lines inside and out now. Don’t be nervous. I
know you think this is your big break, but even if you totally
bomb out there tonight I really don’t think Hollywood is going
to catch wind of it.”

“Oh Ruby,” she called from the back stall, “but they
may catch wind of something else! I’m not nervous and I’m
not throwing
up—I have diarrhea and
horrible stomach
cramps. No joke—if I go out on that stage, I’m going to end up
crapping in my costume. I can’t risk embarrassing myself that
way!”

Most people have a
nervous
bladder—leave it
to
Rachel to have a nervous colon. “It’s just your nerves. You’ll
be just fine,” I said, completely believing that was all it was.
Until I heard her groans of pain among, well,
other
noises.

“Now do you see what I mean?
Giuseppe had food
delivered for us but I didn’t eat anything weird. Everything
came straight from the All American Diner and you know as
well as I do that I’ve eaten there like a thousand times. Other
than that, all I had was an energy drink. It must be the flu.
Everyone else in the family got it weeks ago and I didn’t. It
must have been incubating in there, waiting to attack me at
the worst possible moment.”

Mentally, I chuckled at the fact that she thought the flu
virus spent weeks plotting the demise of her future acting
career.
But to Rachel it was
not only
plausible,
it was
precisely what happened to her.
I had to find a way to
convince her that she was going to be just fine.