A Little Night Magic (14 page)

“Hey,” she said, her voice uneasy as she got a load of me and Stacy.

“Tart?” Stacy said, nudging the box toward her.

Peach sat in the love seat, her posture straight, her makeup perfect, her Tupperware container resting perfectly on her knees. The living room was quiet for a little while, except for the sound of Stacy’s Pop-Tart wrapper as she broke off bits and chewed. Finally, Stacy nodded toward the Tupperware.

“Whatcha got there?”

“Oh. Right.” She pulled the top off the container and set it in the middle of the coffee table. “Jordan almonds. Mom says we have to wrap them up in groups of five. Not four, not six. Five. I have no idea why, but she insists—we must have five Jordan almonds per guest.” She made a face. “I think they’re kind of disgusting. What do you think?”

Stacy and I both reached out and grabbed one, then popped them into our mouths. We chewed for a bit, and then right as I said, “Oh, god, no,” Stacy said, “Elope to Vegas.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Peach said, then smiled. “What I want are these.” She reached into her big tote bag, pulled out a bright orange folded paper bird, and set it on the table next to the almonds.

“What the hell is that?” Stacy asked.

“It’s an origami crane,” Peach said, her face lighting up. “See, you get a thousand of them, and decorate the reception hall with them.”

Stacy raised one brow. “A thousand?”

“They’re good luck, if they’re folded by people who love you.”

Stacy and I exchanged looks, and then I said, “So that would be us, then?”

Peach shrugged. “I guess … if…” She trailed off. “I mean, if you don’t want to…”

I reached out and picked up the dented orange crane. “Of course we want to, Peach.”

“I mean, the wedding’s not until December,” she said. “There’s plenty of time.”

Stacy smiled at her. “You got it, babe.”

Peach smiled back, and for the first time since last week’s disastrous confessional, we felt a little like us again. I sat up straight and leaned forward.

“Okay, guys, I can’t confess this week because … well … what’s going on with me is just … I can’t talk about it. But I need a favor from each of you, okay?”

“Absolutely!” Peach said, and Stacy said, “Long as it doesn’t involve eating any more of those almonds.”

“No. It doesn’t.” I looked at Stacy. “You’re good at research, right?”

She shrugged. “I’m a librarian. Research is pretty much the gig. Why?”

“What if I needed to find someone? You know, maybe someone who doesn’t want to be found?”

She snorted. “Then you call a detective.”

“I tried,” I said. “No one will take my case.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why not?”

“Because all I have is a name.”

She angled her head and watched me, her eyes sharp. “Who are you looking for?”

“My father.”

“Wow,” Peach breathed.

“You want me to find the famous Some Guy Named Dave?” Stacy shrugged with mock confidence and snapped her fingers. “Piece of cake.”

“His name is Gabriel Ford. I don’t know when he was born, or where. All I know is that he went missing ten years ago.”

Stacy and Peach exchanged a glance, and Peach said, “Jesus, Liv. You have had a lot going on.”

“It gets better. He had a daughter, my sister, Holly, who was three years older than me. They changed their last name to Monroe, and were living somewhere in Tennessee.”

“Wow,” Peach breathed. “You have a sister?”

“Had. She died a few months ago.”

“Oh, honey.” Peach touched my shoulder. “I’m so sorry. How crazy is that?”

“Pretty crazy,” Stacy said, keeping her eyes on me.

“Can you do it?” I asked.

“I can try,” she said. “Can’t make any promises, but I’ll give it a shot.”

“Thanks.” I reached out to pat her hand in thanks, but when I touched her, a sharp shock of static electricity zapped us both, and we yanked our hands back as we both cried out in pain.

“Shit,” Stacy said, shaking her hand out.

“Ouch. Sorry.” I rubbed my fingers together, trying to get rid of the residual sting, then turned to Peach. “And now there’s you.”

Peach smiled. “You bet, honey. Anything you need, just say the word.”

“I need you to cool it with Nick,” I said. “Take it down a notch with the wedding planning. Maybe make it secret again, just for a little while.”

Peach’s smile dropped. “What?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for Millie.” I paused, trying to think of the best way to express that Millie had gone magically insane. “I don’t think she’s dealing with this particularly well.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that, but what you’re asking me … is kinda nuts. We just came out publicly. I’m still trying to win over his crazy mother.” Her eyes widened, and she looked at Stacy. “Sorry, Stace.”

Stacy waved her hand dismissively. “It ain’t slander if it’s true.”

Peach made a sad face, then turned back to me. “Look, I didn’t know how Millie felt about Nick, but even if I did…” She looked from me to Stacy, then back to me. “He chose me. That’s not my fault.”

“I know,” I said, trying to pick my words carefully. “I’m not saying forever, I just think … maybe tone it down for a little while, until Millie stabilizes.”

“Stabilizes? Have you talked to her? What’s going on?”

There was a noise in the hallway, and Millie stepped into the living room, cutting all conversation dead. She was wearing a different dress this time, a soft, shimmery thing of that same deep red, with a surplice neckline, ruching at the waist, and a skirt that danced around her legs even when she stopped moving. Her eye makeup was smoky, and it made her look both older and younger at the same time; her mouth was a pouty red, and gave the impression that she’d just come from a lazy afternoon of drinking the blood of innocents.

“Sorry to startle you guys,” she said. “The door was open. I came in during the heartfelt please-find-my-father thing, but I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Peach gave a quick, shocked laugh. “Oh, my god. Millie! You look amazing!”

Millie’s smile was wide, but as she looked at Peach, it didn’t reach her eyes. “I know.”

Stacy, unfazed, held out the box of Pop-Tarts to Millie, who shook her head and said, “No, thanks. I just came by to confess something quickly, and then I have to run. You know, things to do.” She locked her focus on Peach again. “I’ve been a very busy girl.”

“Suit yourself,” Stacy said, and set the box of tarts back on the coffee table.

“Mill,” Peach said, standing up. “I’ve been trying to call you all week. I think we need to talk.”

“Really?” Millie scrunched her nose. “I don’t. Well, no, that’s not exactly true. I think I need to talk, and you need to listen, Peach. See, here’s the thing. Ever since we were kids, you’ve always been the pretty one, the one who got all the attention. I was the smart one, and that was okay. I knew that someday, someone would see how sharp I was, how efficient, how much I could anticipate his needs and meet them before he even had to ask. I just knew it would happen, if I was patient, if I waited long enough.”

“Told you so,” Stacy muttered.

Millie either didn’t hear her, or didn’t care; she kept her eyes locked on Peach. “I waited a long time, and that was okay, because I knew he would see me, eventually. But instead, like everyone else, all he saw was
you.
” Her eyes glittered with malice, and I felt a chill go down my back. This wasn’t Millie; whatever Cain was doing to her, it had not just given her power, it had somehow changed who she
was,
and it was creepy as hell.

I stood up. “Come on, Millie. Let’s go out on the porch and cool down for a minute.” I reached to touch Millie’s shoulder, but she stepped back and waved me away.

“I don’t need to cool down. I need to confess.” She turned her cold eyes on Peach, and they flashed with rage and no small amount of insanity. “I need to confess that last night, after a long evening of going over the quarterly taxes, Nick and I had sex on his desk.”

“Oh, god,
ew.
” Stacy said, putting her hands up over her ears.

Peach blinked a few times, as if she’d been struck, and then she shook her head. “No. You didn’t.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Do you know differently? Was he with
you
last night?” Millie’s voice was saccharine and cold as her thick lashes fluttered at Peach with mock innocence.

“No,” Peach said, her color rising. “He was … working late, but there’s no way … he would never…” She looked at me and Stacy, desperation in her shaking voice. “He wouldn’t cheat on me. He just wouldn’t.”

“And yet, he
did,
” Millie said, watching with unmasked glee as Peach’s eyes filled with tears.

I stood between Millie and Peach. “That’s enough, Mill. I don’t know what the hell’s going on with you, but it needs to stop.”

“I see it differently,” Millie said. “I think it took too goddamn long to start.”

And with that, she turned around and walked out, heels clicking and hips swaying, like a woman who knew she was in charge. She shut the door quietly behind her, and I turned my attention to Peach, who stared after her, face awash in shock and hurt.

“Peach.” I touched her, and when I did, a huge spark of static electricity went off between us. She cried out and stepped away from me, rubbing her shoulder.

“Jesus, Liv!” she said, tears falling freely now. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Then she grabbed her bag and ran out the door. I watched after her, shaking out my hands, which were tingling again.

“You know, I think maybe we should put a moratorium on the confessionals,” Stacy said from behind me.

I turned around to look at her, and she shrugged.

“Just a thought.”

10

“Didn’t I fire you?” Betty said when she unlocked the front door to CCB’s to let me in later that night.

“You put me on sabbatical.” I walked into the empty dining room, sat at the counter, and placed my head in my hands. “Turns out waitresses don’t go on sabbatical.”

Betty glanced pointedly out the front windows to the dark night beyond, and I held up one hand to stop the lecture. “I know. It’s past sunset. But I couldn’t stay in the house.” I let out a whoopee-cushion puff of air. “It’s been a rough day. I had the Confessional with the girls this afternoon, and it took a bad left turn.”

Betty made a face. “Of course it did. There’s never any good to be had from confessions. I’ve been telling you that for years. You’d think seventy-three years of wisdom would count for something. Jeez.”

I reached out and grabbed her hand. “Let me close with you tonight. I can mop. Count the till. Anything. I promise, I won’t go outside again until daylight. I’ll sleep on your couch. I just need something to do to take my mind off things.”

“It’s all done. You’re just lucky I was still down here. What the hell were you thinking, walking over here at night?”

“What’s the difference?” I said. “My house, out on the street, here. If he wants to get me, he’ll get me. Holing up at night isn’t going to make much of a difference.”

We both went silent for a moment, and Betty gave a small shrug conceding the point.

“I need chocolate,” I said. “You didn’t happen to zap up any chocolate cakes today, did you?”

She shook her head. “Gotta place your order before sunset, sweetie.” She watched me for a moment, her expression softening. “So, Millie told you girls about what happened with her and Nick, I take it?”

“How did you know about that?”

“Livvy,
everyone
knows. She’s been blabbing it around town all day. Nick’s gone into hiding, apparently; no one’s seen him since yesterday. I don’t blame him. Peach is a sweet girl, but I wouldn’t want to be on the business end of that woman scorned. It’s the pretty, perfect ones who go nuclear and take out a city block.”

I let out a highly stressed sigh. “Look, work or chocolate. Give me something mundane to distract me.”

Outside, the revving of a car with a blown muffler got our attention, and Betty went to the front door to watch, more out of habit than any strong curiosity. “There’s no work for you to do, but I think I’ve got some Ho Hos in my cupboard upstairs.”

I followed her. “Ho Hos? Really?”

“Don’t mock. You get to be my age, you learn that sometimes life calls for bad snack cakes.”

I stood on my tiptoes to try to see the source of the noise pollution, even though there was really only one possibility. “Frankie Biggs, I’m guessing?”

“Gotta be,” Betty said. “No one else in this town drives a car that loud. I can’t believe the damn thing’s still on the…” She trailed off, went silent for a moment, then said, “What the hell?”

“What?” I opened the front door to get a better look and saw the headlights of Frankie’s car swerving down the street, accompanied by an oddly familiar popping sound. Betty and I both stepped out into the street to watch, just as Frankie’s blue ’72 Barracuda became visible under the streetlight at the end of the block.

“Christ, is it
smoking
?” Betty said just as I took another step out toward the street, my heart beating in response to my mounting panic. The Barracuda jumped the curb at the opposite side of the street, then swerved back onto the road, a cloud of whirling gray smoke circling around it. The car wasn’t moving very fast, maybe thirty miles an hour, but it wasn’t the speed that was bothering me at the moment. What had my attention were the pool balls flying at it, seemingly from nowhere, bouncing off the car as it went down the street. Pockmarks appeared all over the body of the car. The back passenger window was shattered, and the front windshield was spider-cracked all through.

“Shit, shit, shit,
shit
!” I muttered as I glanced up and down the street, my mind racing as I came to the conclusion that only one person in town cared enough about Frankie Biggs to want to hurl pool balls at him.

“Amber!” I yelled, starting down the sidewalk. Betty grabbed at me, but I pulled my arm out of her grasp. I could feel it, that same gut-level sickness I’d had when I watched that same gray smoke attack Peach with walnuts outside my house. It was a bit different this time, though, because beside the blind panic there was now a new emotion; deep, roiling fury. I stomped as I headed down the sidewalk, pissed with Cain for messing with my town, with Millie and Amber for giving him a way in, and with myself for being unable to stop him.