My Soul to Take
Page 8
I slathered strawberry jelly on my toast and took a seat at the bar. Aunt Val poured a second cup of coffee and aimed the TV remote across the dining room and into the den, where the fifty-inch flat-screen flashed to life, signaling the end of the requisite breakfast conversation.
coming to you live from Taboo, in the West End, where last night, the body of nineteen-year-old Heidi Anderson was found on the restroom floor.
Nooo
My stomach churned around a half slice of toast, and I twisted slowly on my bar stool, dread sending a spike of adrenaline through my veins. On screen, a too-poised reporter stood on the brick walkway in front of the club Id snuck into twelve hours earlier, and as I watched, her image was replaced by a still shot of Heidi Anderson sitting in a lawn chair in a UT Arlington T-shirt, straight teeth gleaming, reddish-blond hair blown back by the relentless prairie wind.
It was her.
I couldnt breathe.
Kaylee? Whats wrong?
I blinked and sucked in a quick breath, then looked up at my aunt to find her staring at my plate, where Id dropped my toast jelly-side down. It was a miracle I hadnt lost the half Id already eaten.
Nothing. Can you turn that up? I pushed my plate away and Aunt Val turned up the volume, shooting me a puzzled frown.
No cause of death has yet been identified, the reporter said on-screen. But according to the employee who found Ms. Andersons body, there was no obvious sign of violence.
The picture changed again, and now Traci Marshall stared into the camera, pale with shock and hoarse, as if shed been crying. She was just lying there, like she was sleeping. I thought shed passed out until I realized she wasnt breathing.
Traci disappeared and the reporter was back, but I couldnt hear her over Aunt Val. Isnt that Emmas sister?
Yeah. Shes a bartender at Taboo.
Aunt Val stared at the television, her expression grim. That whole thing is so tragic
I nodded. You have no idea. But I did.
I also had chill bumps. It really happened.
With my previous panic attacks, my aunt and uncle had had no reason to heed my hysterical babble about looming shadows and impending death. And with no way to shush me once the screaming began, theyd taken me homecoincidently away from the source of the panicto calm me down. Except for that last time, when theyd driven me straight to the hospital, checked me into the mental-health ward and begun looking at me with eyes full of pity. Concern. Unspoken relief that I was the one losing my mind, rather than their own, blessedly normal daughter.
But now I had proof I wasnt crazy. Right? Id seen Heidi Anderson shrouded in shadow and known she would die. Id told Emmaand Nash. And now my premonition had come true.
I stood so fast my bar stool skidded against the tiles. I had to tell somebody. I needed to see confirmation in someones eyes, assurance that I wasnt imagining the news story, because really, if I could imagine death, how much harder could it be for my poor, sick mind to make up the news story? But I couldnt tell my aunt what had happened without admitting Id snuck into a club, and once Id said that part, she wouldnt listen to the rest. Shed just take away my keys and call my father.
No, telling Aunt Val was out of the question. But Emma would believe me.
While my aunt stared, I dropped my plate into the sink and ran to my room, ignoring her when she called after me. I kicked the door shut, collapsed on my bed then snatched my phone from my nightstand where Id left it charging the night before.
I called Emmas cell, and almost groaned out loud when her mother answered. But Emma had gotten home more than an hour early for once. What could she possibly be grounded for this time?
Hi, Ms. Marshall. I flopped onto my back and stared at the textured, eggshell ceiling. Can I talk to Em? Its kind of important.
Her mom sighed. Not today, Kaylee. Emma came home smelling like rum last night. Shes grounded until further notice. I certainly hope you werent out drinking with her.
Oh, crap. I closed my eyes, trying to come up with an answer that wouldnt make Em sound like a delinquent by comparison. I drew a total blank. Um, no, maam. I was driving.
Well, at least one of you has a little sense. Do me a favor and try sharing some of that with Emma next time. Assuming I ever let her out of the house again.
Sure, Ms. Marshall. I hung up, suddenly glad I hadnt spent the night at the Marshalls, as had been my original plan. With Emma grounded and Traci probably still in shock, breakfast could not have been a pleasant meal.
After a minutes hesitation, and much anticipatory panic, I decided to call Nash, because in spite of his reputation and my suspicion about his motives, he hadnt laughed at me when I told him the truth about the panic attack.
And with Emma grounded, he was the only one left who knew.
I picked up my phone againthen I realized I didnt have his number.
Careful to avoid my aunt and uncle, who was now awake and frying bacon, based on the scent permeating the entire house, I snuck into the living room, snagged the phone book from an end table drawer and took it back to my room. There were four Hudsons with the right prefix, but only one on his street. Nash answered on the third ring.
My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it over the phone, and for several seconds, silence was all I could manage.
coming to you live from Taboo, in the West End, where last night, the body of nineteen-year-old Heidi Anderson was found on the restroom floor.
Nooo
My stomach churned around a half slice of toast, and I twisted slowly on my bar stool, dread sending a spike of adrenaline through my veins. On screen, a too-poised reporter stood on the brick walkway in front of the club Id snuck into twelve hours earlier, and as I watched, her image was replaced by a still shot of Heidi Anderson sitting in a lawn chair in a UT Arlington T-shirt, straight teeth gleaming, reddish-blond hair blown back by the relentless prairie wind.
It was her.
I couldnt breathe.
Kaylee? Whats wrong?
I blinked and sucked in a quick breath, then looked up at my aunt to find her staring at my plate, where Id dropped my toast jelly-side down. It was a miracle I hadnt lost the half Id already eaten.
Nothing. Can you turn that up? I pushed my plate away and Aunt Val turned up the volume, shooting me a puzzled frown.
No cause of death has yet been identified, the reporter said on-screen. But according to the employee who found Ms. Andersons body, there was no obvious sign of violence.
The picture changed again, and now Traci Marshall stared into the camera, pale with shock and hoarse, as if shed been crying. She was just lying there, like she was sleeping. I thought shed passed out until I realized she wasnt breathing.
Traci disappeared and the reporter was back, but I couldnt hear her over Aunt Val. Isnt that Emmas sister?
Yeah. Shes a bartender at Taboo.
Aunt Val stared at the television, her expression grim. That whole thing is so tragic
I nodded. You have no idea. But I did.
I also had chill bumps. It really happened.
With my previous panic attacks, my aunt and uncle had had no reason to heed my hysterical babble about looming shadows and impending death. And with no way to shush me once the screaming began, theyd taken me homecoincidently away from the source of the panicto calm me down. Except for that last time, when theyd driven me straight to the hospital, checked me into the mental-health ward and begun looking at me with eyes full of pity. Concern. Unspoken relief that I was the one losing my mind, rather than their own, blessedly normal daughter.
But now I had proof I wasnt crazy. Right? Id seen Heidi Anderson shrouded in shadow and known she would die. Id told Emmaand Nash. And now my premonition had come true.
I stood so fast my bar stool skidded against the tiles. I had to tell somebody. I needed to see confirmation in someones eyes, assurance that I wasnt imagining the news story, because really, if I could imagine death, how much harder could it be for my poor, sick mind to make up the news story? But I couldnt tell my aunt what had happened without admitting Id snuck into a club, and once Id said that part, she wouldnt listen to the rest. Shed just take away my keys and call my father.
No, telling Aunt Val was out of the question. But Emma would believe me.
While my aunt stared, I dropped my plate into the sink and ran to my room, ignoring her when she called after me. I kicked the door shut, collapsed on my bed then snatched my phone from my nightstand where Id left it charging the night before.
I called Emmas cell, and almost groaned out loud when her mother answered. But Emma had gotten home more than an hour early for once. What could she possibly be grounded for this time?
Hi, Ms. Marshall. I flopped onto my back and stared at the textured, eggshell ceiling. Can I talk to Em? Its kind of important.
Her mom sighed. Not today, Kaylee. Emma came home smelling like rum last night. Shes grounded until further notice. I certainly hope you werent out drinking with her.
Oh, crap. I closed my eyes, trying to come up with an answer that wouldnt make Em sound like a delinquent by comparison. I drew a total blank. Um, no, maam. I was driving.
Well, at least one of you has a little sense. Do me a favor and try sharing some of that with Emma next time. Assuming I ever let her out of the house again.
Sure, Ms. Marshall. I hung up, suddenly glad I hadnt spent the night at the Marshalls, as had been my original plan. With Emma grounded and Traci probably still in shock, breakfast could not have been a pleasant meal.
After a minutes hesitation, and much anticipatory panic, I decided to call Nash, because in spite of his reputation and my suspicion about his motives, he hadnt laughed at me when I told him the truth about the panic attack.
And with Emma grounded, he was the only one left who knew.
I picked up my phone againthen I realized I didnt have his number.
Careful to avoid my aunt and uncle, who was now awake and frying bacon, based on the scent permeating the entire house, I snuck into the living room, snagged the phone book from an end table drawer and took it back to my room. There were four Hudsons with the right prefix, but only one on his street. Nash answered on the third ring.
My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it over the phone, and for several seconds, silence was all I could manage.
