Chapter Six #2
‘Truer words never spoken,’ she said as she finally broke eye contact to examine her flawless fingernails. I felt my shoulders sag with relief. ‘I do hope she’s having a marvellous time, in spite of the sad circumstances. I have never been to Wales myself but I just know she’ll adore Paris.’
‘Paris?’
My eyes popped wide. Who said anything about Paris?
‘I personally would never choose Paris this late in the summer,’ she went on, thankfully oblivious to my surprise. ‘It’s more of a spring destination, but who could begrudge Catherine a European adventure after all she’s been through.’
My face tightened as I silently cursed Ashley for going off script without telling me.
‘Odd that Catherine would choose to undertake such a journey after all these years without travelling at all,’ Ileen said, flicking her gaze back to me, her eyelids weighed down with too much mascara and just the right amount of suspicion.
‘And to go alone when you have so recently arrived in Savannah. It seems to me you and Ashley might’ve accompanied her. ’
‘She wanted to say goodbye to my dad in her own way,’ I replied, reciting my side of the story perfectly. No need to add any more layers to an already precarious house of cards. ‘And Ashley and I have a lot going on.’
‘Such as?’
I could not think of a single thing. The left corner of Ileen’s mouth quirked upwards, cracking her mask of foundation.
‘All these years, the ladies and I have been trying to drag her out of town on a real vacation. She gave us every excuse in the book until we simply stopped asking,’ she said.
Then, leaning in towards me, she added, ‘Not that I would ever spread gossip, but with the way she took off without telling anyone, Margaret Seiler wondered if there might be some sort of family trouble?’
‘Trouble?’ I echoed nervously.
She lowered her voice, eyes widening with meaning.
‘Perhaps with the IRS?’
‘The IRS?’
‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘It’s not unthinkable for a woman in Catherine’s position to find herself in trouble with the tax man, especially after managing her own finances for so long. Without a man to guide her, I mean. Is that the case?’
She held her breath, giving me a whole second to confirm or deny, then sighed with disappointment when I shook my head. This was beginning to get annoying.
‘There’s no trouble with our taxes and Catherine doesn’t need a man to manage her finances. She’s just gone away, nothing weird about it.’
‘If you say so,’ Ileen said with a sniff. ‘But the whole endeavour seems very strange, very peculiar. Disappearing without telling her closest friends, this bizarre refusal of hers to use a cell phone. But I’m not one to gossip.’
‘Not even a little,’ I said, looking around for Jackson or one of his friends, or literally anyone else, dead or alive, who might want to talk to me.
I’d probably take a werewolf if it was the only offer on the table.
Where was a distraction when I needed one?
Unfortunately, Ileen Stovell was not finished.
‘And of course, I wanted to officially welcome you to Savannah.’
‘Thank you, I—’
‘Since Catherine didn’t feel it necessary to arrange a formal introduction for you before running off on her grand European tour.’
‘That’s entirely my fault.’ I spotted the back of my non-date’s head and silently begged him to turn around and save me. ‘Catherine was desperate to arrange something but I asked for more time to settle in.’
‘It would be my honour to introduce you at the August meeting of the historical society,’ she suggested readily.
‘Or perhaps the next parents’ association meeting at Oglethorpe Country Day.
I hear you graduated early, but I’m sure you’ll still want to show support for your local school, especially since your father was an alumnus, and, dare I say it, your beau is our star basketball player?
Well done, by the way, you have the most excellent taste.
My granddaughter tells me Jackson Powell is quite the popular young man, and here you come, swanning into town after sixteen years away, to snatch him on up. ’
And just like that, any reserves of politeness I had vanished.
‘You can dare say anything you like but that doesn’t make it real.’ I pulled back my shoulders as I spoke, drawing myself up to my full height and ignoring the gasp that escaped her pink-painted lips. ‘Jackson is just a friend, so feel free to tell your granddaughter she’s still in with a shot.’
Ileen Stovell blinked at me with vacant surprise, as though she needed to be turned on and off again at the mains.
I ignored my father’s voice in my head, telling me to apologize, and instead listened to a new voice, one that insisted I stand my ground, that I was a member of the Bell family, and we were a force to be reckoned with.
That voice, I realized with some surprise, belonged to Catherine.
‘Thank you for the kind offer,’ I said with a civil dip of my chin. ‘But I’m sure Catherine will introduce me to anyone she considers important enough when she gets back.’
Without waiting for a reply, I stepped around Ileen, head held high as I sailed across the room to meet Jackson, blood burning in my ears and pride flaming in my chest. Catherine would be proud of me, I was sure of it.
But since when was that a good thing?
The party was a success.
Time seemed to speed up when I was with Jackson, every minute passing twice as quickly as the hours I spent wallowing around Bell House.
He was the perfect date, proudly introducing me to all of his friends, bragging about the places I’d lived, the countries I’d visited, and telling everyone who would listen how incredibly cool and smart I was.
It was beyond awkward, at least at first. I’d never been someone to take compliments well and I couldn’t refute his claims quickly enough, but Jackson wouldn’t hear of it and the look on his face every time he showed me off to someone new filled me with a warm sense of belonging.
Very, very slowly, I started to shed the first few layers of social anxiety, letting everyone else talk and joke around until I felt safe enough to join in.
Contrary to Lydia’s broad summation that her brother exclusively enjoyed the company of jocks, dummies and the kind of girls who already had coaches helping to make sure they were accepted to the best sororities in the south, his friends seemed nice, sweet even.
But there was one thing I couldn’t stop thinking about.
Did any of these people know the true depths of Jackson’s inner history nerd?
My guess was no. He hadn’t mentioned a single historical fact since taking me to see what he assured me was a historic fountain at the back of the hotel.
His cheeks had been flushed with excitement as he told me all about its storied past, until an enormous boy, who was either a football player or part rhino, came over.
Jackson immediately pretended we had got lost looking for the bathrooms. I didn’t say anything and he didn’t offer an explanation.
He didn’t need to, we all had things we preferred to keep hidden.
Lydia kept her desire to belong buried deep and Ashley would rather die than have people know about the girl she’d loved and lost more than a decade ago.
My secrets were a little less common than most, but the theory still held.
Jackson’s life was complicated. I hadn’t really thought about it until tonight, watching him work the room, all things to all people.
His friends wanted the good-natured, easy-going, all-American guy.
The teachers and the parents saw an all-conquering sports hero and that’s what he gave them.
His grandmother wanted a charming, polite young gentleman, so that’s what she got.
For Lydia, he was the pain-in-the-ass older-by-twelve-minutes brother, always looking out for her whether she liked it or not; and although she would never admit it, that was exactly what she needed.
But who was he to himself? I couldn’t stop wondering which version was closest to the truth.
‘Having fun?’ he asked, his eyes bright as his head bobbed along in time with the music.
‘I am,’ I said, delighted to discover it was the truth.
The band was loud, the lights were low and after a few short speeches all the attending adults had disappeared to another room, leaving us the dance floor and the dessert bar. I couldn’t have asked for more from my first school dance.
Jackson moved to the beat, tugging his bow tie loose before unbuttoning his collar.
‘I wish they’d turn up the AC,’ he yelled. ‘It’s hot as blue blazes in here. Probably cooler outside than inside right about now.’
‘You want to go see?’
I gestured toward the sliding glass doors at the end of the ballroom and he held out his arm, grinning like he’d won the lottery. I hooked my arm through the crook of his elbow and we slipped around the edge of the room, fresh air dead ahead. Everything was normal, everything was nice.
Until it wasn’t.
It happened so suddenly, I wasn’t prepared.
Only Jackson’s firm grip kept me upright when the shockwaves hit and I stumbled forward, reaching out for the wall.
My footsteps faltered as the room shuddered, quaking so violently that pictures leapt from walls and the chandeliers fell from the ceiling, a cascade of crystal crushing the people below.
I looked on helpless as a chorus of a hundred screams pierced my soul.
‘Em?’ I heard Jackson say. ‘You good?’
The quaking stopped and I leaned into his body, panting and shaking.
The ballroom was perfectly fine.
My fingers curled around the fabric of his shirt as I scoured my surroundings, searching for the injured people and broken glass, but there was nothing. No one screaming in fear, no one running for the exits. Everything was exactly as it had been two seconds earlier.
‘You didn’t feel it?’ I said, still clinging tightly to his side. ‘The earthquake?’
Jackson wrapped a protective arm around my shoulders and held me close, resting his chin on top of my head.
‘Em, there was nothing to feel, there was no earthquake.’ His voice dropped an octave when I started to shake. ‘What happened? Do we need to leave?’
‘No,’ I said, still not quite ready to believe him or my own eyes. ‘It was nothing. I must’ve tripped or something.’
He looked about as convinced as I sounded.
‘If you’re worried, we can leave. Say the word and I’ll hit the fire alarm, we’ll have this whole place evacuated in five minutes flat.’
‘Honestly, everything is fine,’ I insisted, looking back at all the happy faces, searching for some clue as to what had just happened. ‘I need fresh air, that’s all. You’re right, it’s super hot in here. No need to ruin everyone’s night because I’m a klutz.’
‘But I’m not worried about everyone,’ Jackson said. ‘I’m worried about you.’
Locked onto his huge brown eyes, I felt my bottom lip begin to tremble. The slight pursing of his lips, the frown that pulled his eyebrows together, it was enough to tip two fat tears over my lashes and down my cheeks.
‘I don’t know what it was but it’s gone now.’
He took a deep breath in through his nose then exhaled steadily.
‘This way,’ he said, steering me towards the glass doors.
His arm was still around my shoulders, holding me close enough to feel his heart pounding against his ribs.
Without resisting, I let him lead me out to the terrace, only looking back once.
Until I had a clearer idea of what just happened, there was no reason to alarm anyone else, but there was no denying that something was wrong.
It wasn’t a vision or a nightmare, and as far as I knew a ghost couldn’t cause that kind of illusion.
Someone at this party was capable of wielding powerful, brutal magic.
Someone other than me.