The Complete Hush, Hush Saga Read online

“Oh, Nora.”

  I let my mom gather me against her and pressed my face into her blouse.

  “This was just a bad scare, that’s all,” she said. “We’ll be more careful next time.”

  The boards in the hall creaked, and I looked over to see Hank leaning on the door frame. “You gave us quite a fright, young lady.” His voice was light and calm, but there was something almost wolfish in his eyes that caused a chill to tiptoe up my back.

  “I don’t want him here,” I whispered to my mom. Even though I was sure there was no validity to my most recent hallucination, it haunted me. I couldn’t stop picturing Hank tugging the canvas off the cage. I couldn’t shut out the words he’d said. Logically, I knew I was projecting my own fears and anxieties on him, but either way, I wanted him to leave.

  “I’ll call you later, Hank,” Mom said reassuringly over the top of my head. “After I tuck Nora in. Thank you again for dinner, and I’m sorry about the false alarm.”

  He gestured it off. “Don’t fret, darling. You forget I have my own hormonal drama queen under my roof, though at least I can say she’s never done anything this rash.” He chuckled, as if he genuinely found any word he’d said amusing.

  I waited until I heard his footsteps retreat down the hall. I wasn’t sure how much to tell my mom, especially since Jev said the police couldn’t be counted on and I feared that everything I said now would reach Detective Basso’s ears, but too much had happened tonight not to tell anyone.

  “I met someone tonight,” I told my mom. “After I left Cooper-smith’s. I didn’t recognize him, but he said we knew each other. I must have met him sometime in the last five months, but I can’t remember.”

  Her hold on me grew taut. “Did he tell you his name?”

  “Jev.”

  She’d been holding her breath, but now a little slip of air escaped. I wondered what it meant. Had she expected a different name?

  “Do you know him?” I asked. Maybe she would be able to shed light on my history with Jev.

  “No. Did he say how he knew you? From school, maybe? Or when you worked at Enzo’s?”

  I’d worked at Enzo’s? This was news to me, and I was about to get clarification, when her eyes snapped back to mine. “Wait. What was he wearing?” She gestured impatiently. “What did his clothes look like?”

  I felt my forehead crease in confusion. “Why does it matter?”

  She stood, then paced to the door and back to the bed. As if suddenly aware of how anxious she looked, she parked herself in front of my dresser and nonchalantly examined a perfume bottle. “Maybe he was wearing a uniform with a logo? Or maybe he was dressed entirely in one color? Like … black?” She was clearly leading me, but why?

  “He was wearing a white-and-navy baseball shirt with jeans.”

  Worry lines formed clear parentheses around her mouth, which was tightly pursed in thought.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” I asked.

  The worry lines spread to her eyes.

  “What do you know?” I demanded.

  “There was a boy,” she began.

  I sat up a little taller. “What boy?” I couldn’t help but wonder if she was talking about Jev. And I found myself hoping she was. I wanted to know more about him. I wanted to know everything about him.

  “He came around a few times. He always dressed in black,” she said with obvious distaste. “He was older and—please don’t take this the wrong way, but I couldn’t figure out what he saw in you. He’d dropped out of school, he had a gambling problem, and he worked as a busboy at the Borderline. I mean, for goodness’ sake! I have nothing against busboys, but it was almost laughable. As if he thought you were going to stay in Coldwater forever. He couldn’t begin to relate to your dreams, let alone keep up with them. I’d be very surprised if he had the determination to go to college.”

  “Did I like him?” Her description didn’t sound like Jev, but I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

  “Hardly! You had me make excuses every time he called. Eventually he got the picture and left you alone. The whole thing was very short-lived. A couple of weeks at most. I only brought him up because I always thought something about him was off. And I always wondered if he might have known something about your abduction. Not to be dramatic, but it seemed like a dark cloud settled over your life the day you met him.”

  “What happened to him?” I realized my heart was pounding in double time.

  “He left town.” She shook her head. “See? It couldn’t have been him. I panicked, that’s all. I wouldn’t worry about him,” she added, coming over and patting my knee. “He’s probably halfway across the country by now.”

  “What was his name?”

  She hesitated only a moment. “You know, I don’t remember. Something with a P. Peter, maybe.” She laughed louder than necessary. “I guess that proves just how insignificant he was.”

  I smiled absently at her joke, all the while hearing Jev’s voice rumble through my mind.

  We knew each other. We met five months ago, and I was bad news from the moment you laid eyes on me.

  If Jev and this mysterious boy from my past were one and the same, someone wasn’t giving me the full story. Maybe Jev was trouble. Maybe it was in my best interest to sprint in the opposite direction.

  But something told me it wasn’t because he was the hardened and indifferent person he was trying so hard to convince me he was. Right before the hallucination, I’d heard him say, You’re not supposed to be in this anymore. Even I can’t keep you safe.

  My safety meant something to him. His actions tonight proved it. And actions speak louder than words, I told myself grimly.

  Which left only two questions. What wasn’t I supposed to be involved in anymore? And given the two—Jev and my mom—who was lying?

  If they thought I was quite content to sit with my hands in my lap, the perfect model of a sweet, uninformed little girl, they weren’t as smart as they thought.

  CHAPTER

  13

  SATURDAY MORNING I WOKE EARLY, TUGGED ON cotton shorts and a tank, and went running. It felt strangely empowering to pound my feet against the pavement and sweat out all my immediate troubles. I was doing my best not to think about last night. So much for testing my courage by wandering around alone at night—as far as I was concerned, from now on, I’d be perfectly happy to stay locked up in my house the moment the moon showed its face. And if I never had to visit that particular 7-Eleven again, so much the better.

  Strangely enough, it wasn’t Gabe who was haunting my thoughts, though. That job belonged to a pair of sinfully black eyes that had lost their edge when they studied me, turning as soft and sultry as silk. Jev had told me not to go looking for him, but I couldn’t stop fantasizing about all the different ways we might bump into each other again. In fact, the last dream I recalled before waking up this morning was of going to Ogunquit Beach with Vee, only to discover that Jev was the on-duty lifeguard. I’d pulled out of the dream with my heart thumping, and the strangest ache shredding me up inside. I could interpret the dream well enough myself: Despite the infuriated, tangled way he’d left me feeling, I wanted to see Jev again.

  The sky was overcast, keeping the air cool, and after my stopwatch beeped to signal three miles, I gave it a smug smile and challenged myself to one more, not quite ready to give up my private thoughts about Jev. That, and I was enjoying myself immeasurably. I’d gone to spinning classes and Zumba at the gym with Vee, but out in the clean air, saturated with the smells of pine and dewy tree bark, I decided that hands down, I preferred sweating outdoors. After a while, I even tugged out my earbuds, allowing me to concentrate on the peaceful sounds of nature rising out of dawn.

  At home I took a long, luxurious bath, then stood in front of my closet, biting the tip of my fingernail as I studied my wardrobe. In the end, I zipped myself into skinny jeans and tugged on kneehigh boots and a turquoise silk camisole. Vee would remember the outfit, since she was the one who’d persuaded me t
o buy it during last summer’s sidewalk sales. Scrutinizing myself in the mirror, I decided I passed as the same old Nora Grey. One step in the right direction, only a thousand or so more to go. I was a little worried what Vee and I would talk about, especially given the glaring issue of my kidnapping, but I reassured myself that that was what made Vee and me so compatible. I could strategically steer our conversation by raising certain subjects, and Vee could blather on forever about them. I just had to make sure I got her talking about what I wanted.

  There was only one thing missing, I concluded, as I checked over my reflection. My outfit needed an accessory. Jewelry. No, a scarf.

  I pulled out my dresser drawer, a sick feeling sweeping through me when I saw the long black feather. I’d forgotten about it. It was probably dirty. I made a mental note to throw it away as soon as I got back from lunch, but there wasn’t much conviction behind the thought. I was wary of the feather—but not enough to give it up just yet. First I wanted to know what kind of animal had shed it, and I wanted an explanation for why I felt like it was my responsibility to keep it safe. It was a ridiculous thought and didn’t make sense, but nothing had since I’d woken in the cemetery. Pushing the feather deeper to the back of the drawer, I grabbed the first scarf I saw.

  Then I jogged downstairs, pocketed a ten-dollar bill from the freshly stocked petty cash drawer, and folded myself behind the wheel of the Volkswagen. I had to bang my fist on the dash four times before the engine caught, but I told myself it wasn’t necessarily a sign of a lemon. It meant this car was aged like, well, fine cheese. This car had seen the world. Chances are, it had hauled around at least a few interesting people. It was seasoned and experienced and held all the charm of 1984. Best of all, I hadn’t paid a cent for it.

  After pumping a few dollars’ worth of gas into the tank, I motored over to Enzo’s. Tidying my hair in the storefront window, I let myself inside.

  I took off my sunglasses, soaking in the impressive setting. Enzo’s had undergone a major makeover since I last remembered. A wide set of stairs led down to the front counter and a circular dining pit. Two catwalks spread out from either side of the hostess station, scattered with industrial aluminum tables that were part vintage, part chic. Big-band-style music played through the stereo system, and for a moment, I felt like I’d stumbled through time and landed in a speakeasy.

  Vee was kneeling on her chair for height advantage, whipping her arm over her head like a propeller. “Babe! Over here!”

  She met me halfway down the catwalk to my right and squeezed me into a hug. “I ordered iced mochas and a plate of sprinkled doughnuts for us. Man, we have so much to talk about. I wasn’t going to tell you, but the heck with surprises. I lost three pounds. Can you tell?” She twirled in front of me.

  “You look amazing,” I told her, and I meant it. After all this time, we were finally together. She could have gained ten pounds, and I’d have thought she was absolutely beautiful.

  “Self magazine said curves are a fall trend, so I’m feeling really confident,” she said, plopping down into her chair. We were at a table set for four, but instead of taking the chair across from Vee, I slipped into one directly beside her. “So,” she said, leaning forward conspiratorially, “tell me about last night. Holy freak show. I can’t believe your mom and Hanky Panky.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “Hanky Panky?”

  “We are so calling him Hanky Panky. It’s so accurate it hurts.”

  “I think we should call him Frat Boy.”

  “That’s what I’m talking about!” Vee said, slapping her palm down on the table. “How old do you think he is? Twenty-five? Maybe he’s really Marcie’s older brother. Maybe he has an Oedipus complex, and Marcie’s mom is his mom and his wife!”

  I was laughing so hard I accidentally snorted. Which only sent us into deeper hysterics.

  “Okay, stop,” I said, flattening my hands to my thighs and trying to muster a serious face. “This is mean. What if Marcie walked in and heard us?”

  “What’s she going to do? Poison me with her secret stash of Ex-Lax?”

  Before I could respond, the two available chairs at our table scraped back, and Owen Seymour and Joseph Mancusi sat down. I knew both boys from school. Owen had been in Vee’s and my biology class last year. He was tall and wiry, and wore studious-looking black glasses and Ralph Lauren polos. In sixth grade he’d beaten me out as our grade’s representative in the citywide spelling bee. Not that I had hard feelings. I hadn’t had a class with Joseph, or Joey, in years, but we’d known each other since elementary school, and his dad was Coldwater’s only chiropractor. Joey bleached his hair, wore flips-flops even in the winter, and played drums in the marching band. I knew for a fact that in junior high, Vee had a crush on him.

  Owen pushed his glasses up his nose and smiled benignly. I braced myself for a barrage of questions concerning my kidnapping, but he simply said in a slightly nervous voice, “We saw you guys sitting over here and thought we’d, uh, amble over.”

  “Gee, what a coincidence.” Vee’s curt tone startled me. Not typical for Vee, who was a self-proclaimed flirt, but maybe she was going for deadpan? “And what do you mean ‘amble over’? Who talks like that anymore?”

  “Er, have any plans for the rest of the weekend?” Joey asked, folding his hands on the table, where they rested a few inches from Vee’s.

  She drew back, stiffening her spine. “Plans that don’t include you.”

  Okay, not deadpan. I peeked sideways at her, trying to catch her eye long enough to nonverbally articulate, What’s wrong? but she was too busy evil-eyeing Owen.

  “If you don’t mind,” she said, clearly implying that it was time for them to leave.

  Owen and Joey exchanged brief, perplexed looks.

  “Remember when we had PE together in seventh grade?” Joey asked Vee. “You were my badminton partner. You totally rocked at badminton. If memory serves, we won the class tournament.” He raised his hand to give her a high five.

  “Not in the mood to stroll down memory lane.”

  Joey slowly dropped his hand beneath the table. “Er, right. Uh, you sure you don’t want us to buy you guys a lemonade or something?”

  “So you can spike it with GHB? Pass. Besides, we’ve already got drinks, something you might have noticed if you were actually looking higher than our chests.” She rattled her iced mocha in his face.

  “Vee,” I said under my breath. First of all, neither Owen nor Joey had been looking anywhere remotely close to where Vee insinuated, and second of all, what was the matter with her?

  “Um … okay … sorry to bother,” Owen said, rising awkwardly to his feet. “We just thought—”

  “You thought wrong,” Vee snapped. “Whatever evil schemes you two have in mind? Ain’t gonna happen.”

  “Evil what?” Owen repeated, pushing up his glasses again and blinking owlishly.

  “We get it,” Joey said. “We shouldn’t have butted in. Private girl conversation. I have sisters,” he said knowingly. “Next time we’ll, uh, ask first?”

  “There isn’t going to be a next time,” Vee said. “Consider Nora and me”—she jerked her thumb between the two of us—“closed to your business.”

  I cleared my throat, trying but failing to figure out how to salvage this long enough to end on a positive note. Clean out of ideas, I did the only thing I could. With an apologetic smile, I told Owen and Joey, “Um, thanks, guys. Have a nice day.” It sounded like a question.

  “Yeah, thanks for nothing,” Vee called after them as they backed away, their whole faces screwed up in bewilderment.

  When they were out of hearing range, she said, “What is up with guys today? They think they can just stroll over, flash a pretty smile, and we’ll melt in their hands? Uh-uh. No way. Not us. We’re wiser than that. They can take their romance scam somewhere else, thank you very much.”

  I cleared my throat. “Wow.”

  “Don’t wow me. I know you saw right through those guys too.
”

  I scratched my eyebrow. “Personally, I think they were just making conversation … but what do I know,” I quickly added when she cast a withering glare at me.

  “When a guy shows up out of nowhere and instantly turns on the charm, it’s a front. There’s always a deeper motive. This much I know.”

  I sucked on my straw. I wasn’t sure what else to say. I’d never be able to look Owen or Joey in the eye again, but maybe Vee was having a day. Maybe she was in a mood. When I watched Lifetime original movies, it took me a day or two to get over the idea that the cute boy next door is actually a serial killer. Maybe Vee was going through a similar fade-back-to-reality phase.

  I was about to ask her directly, when my cell phone chirped.

  “Let me guess,” Vee said. “That would be your mom checking up on you. I was surprised she let you out of the house. It’s no secret she doesn’t like me. For a while there, I think she even thought I was somehow mixed up in your disappearance.” She made a grunt of contempt.

  “She likes you, she just doesn’t understand you,” I said, opening what appeared to be a text message from none other than Marcie Millar.

  BTW, THE NECKLACE IS A MAN’S SILVER CHAIN. DID U FIND IT?

  “Give it a rest,” I muttered out loud.

  “Well?” Vee said. “What lame excuse did that woman give to drag you home?”

  HOW DID U GET MY NUMBER? I texted Marcie.

  OUR PARENTS SWAP MORE THAN SPIT, DUMB-A.

  Right back at you, I thought.

  I shut my phone and gave my attention back to Vee. “Can I ask a stupid question?”

  “My favorite kind.”

  “Did I go to a party at Marcie’s over the summer?”

  I braced myself for a round of over-the-top laughter, but Vee simply chewed off a bite of doughnut and said, “Yeah, I remember that. You dragged me along too. You still owe me for that, by the way.”

  Not the response I’d anticipated. “Weirder question. Was I”—here goes nothing—“friends with Marcie?”

  Now came the reaction I’d been expecting. Vee nearly coughed her doughnut onto the table. “You and the ho, friends. Did I hear that right? I know you’ve got the whole temporary memory loss thing going on, but how could you forget eleven years’ worth of Little Miss Pain in the You Know What?”