Burning Down the House (33 page)

“Of course
I am. Two o’clock, right?”

“
Right. Do you think he’ll show up there?”

“I
would hope he has better sense than that.”

The fire
popped and hissed, the enveloping heat working like a sedative. I began to feel drowsy, my eyelids drooping as they grew heavy. I snuggled closer to Rob, nestling my head just underneath his chin. His arm reached around my waist.

In a low voice I suggested,
“Maybe it was an accident,” before succumbing to a yawn.

“Hm?”
Rob sounded like he was getting sleepy himself.

“
It could have been an argument that got out of hand. Maybe the person didn’t mean to kill her.”

His arm tightened
protectively around me. “Doesn’t make her any less dead.”

That was true. But
it was easier to try and convince myself that it wasn’t a premeditated act. That there wasn’t a coldblooded murderer walking freely around our small town.

“Guess we should’ve gotten here earlier.”

Unbuttoning my blazer, I nodded to Dana in agreement. Even though it was a fairly large church, there was standing room only. The pews were crammed to capacity and we were packed shoulder to shoulder in the very back. Me, Rob, Trent, Dana, Doug, Melanie, Colin and Staci in addition to a sea of familiar faces. Today Staci wasn’t scrambling to be the center of attention. Dressed in a demure wool skirt and black sweater, she stood quietly clutching Colin’s arm. For once she had nothing to say.

“
I knew I shouldn’t have worn heels,” Melanie complained in a whisper, shifting her weight from one foot to the other.

Doug
leaned forward a bit to quietly ask, “Which ones are her parents?”

“First row, the couple closest to the center aisle,”
Rob told him.

I’d seen them once before, at the homecoming game.
Jordan’s mother was a dainty little woman with ebony hair cropped in a short pixie style. Her father was obviously the source of the striking auburn locks. He was a burly, hulking Irishman with a tangled copper mane and thick, shaggy eyebrows. He had a brutish sort of look about him. I remember thinking when I first saw him that he’d look right at home in an Irish pub, throwing back whisky and starting bar fights just for sport.

Right now, however, he just looked broken.

“I don’t see any of Riley’s family here,” Colin whispered.

“What’d you expect?”
Trent hissed back.

I glanced up at
Rob, and he looked down at me with warm eyes. His hand touched the small of my back gently.

It was a closed casket service, of course, but there were framed photos scattered a
round up front, offering a limited glimpse into her brief life. I couldn’t see them very clearly from where I stood. The one most prominently displayed was her homecoming picture, the one they’d used on the news. Her smiling image was propped among the mixed arrangement of white flowers blanketing her coffin.

Th
e minister approached the pulpit. Silence fell over the congregation.

I wondered, suddenly, if she was wearing her necklace.

They say life goes on, and I guess when you’re young it has a tendency to go on a lot faster.

Friday at school, it was like nothing had ever happened. Business as usual. Six days since the murder, the funeral behind us, we all just wanted to go on with our lives.
Yes, we. I was no different. I’d had my fill of the depressing stuff just like everyone else. We needed to put it behind us, to move forward with laughter and optimism again. Resume our everyday routines with a sense of normalcy.

For us, normalcy was
Colin Hayes taking bets on whether he’d snort root beer up his nose at the lunch table. (He ended up collecting $4.75 and a massive migraine.)

Colin
:
Fuuuuuuck!

Trent
: (laughing) Dumbass! Told you not to do it, didn’t I?

Doug
: Man, that’s gotta sting! Does it hurt?

Colin
: Ow…ow…
ow
…shit, that burns!

Rob
: Twenty bucks says you can’t drink the whole can that way.

Colin
: Screw that!

Dana
: (looking at me) Are we the only halfway intelligent people at this table?

Me
: I’d say so.

Rob
: Here’s some pepper. Why don’t you try that next?

Me
: Don’t encourage him!

Trent
: Hey Doug, remember that time in fourth grade…

Doug
: Shut up.

Trent
: Remember what we dared you to do…

Doug
: Shut.
Up!

Me
: No, I wanna hear this. What did you dare him to do?

Doug
: Don’t you tell them. I’ll kick your skinny ass, so help me…!

Trent
: You remember a girl named Brittany Kowalski?

Me
: Um…I think so. Wasn’t she the one nobody liked because she was always telling on people for stuff?

Tren
t
: That’s the one. Well, this one day we’re in the cafeteria, right, trying to think of something we can do to get back at her for being such a suck-up…and Jason Lee has one of those little plastic pudding cups in his lunch, you know? So we all dare Doug to go out in the hallway and hide in the janitor’s closet. ’Cause in the meantime we were gonna figure out a way to get Brittany to go open the closet door and Doug was gonna jump out and throw the pudding on her.

Dana
: What flavor was it?

Doug
: (rolling his eyes) Chocolate. What else.

Trent
: Okay, so we’re all trying to convince Brittany she needs to go look in the janitor’s closet, telling her we found some kittens in there and all kinds of stupid bullshit like that, and of course she’s not buying it. But in the meantime, the assistant principal - you remember Mrs. Hightower, we always laughed at her because her name was Hightower and she was about four foot six - anyway, she comes bebopping along looking for a roll of paper towels.

Me
: (giggling) Oh, no…

Trent
: Oh, yeah. She gets chocolate pudding splattered all down the front of her dress. Wait - that’s not even the best part…

Doug
: Man, do you really have to tell this story?

Trent
: (starting to laugh) So Doug freaks out when he sees what he’s done and he just takes off. He runs away and hides and nobody can find him. For like two hours he’s missing. Half the teachers in school are looking for him. They call his parents and everything.

Me
: Where was he?

Trent
: You wanna tell ’em your brilliant hiding spot, Dougie?

Doug
: (sighing) The dumpster behind the cafeteria. I didn’t think anyone would ever look there.

Trent
: (doubling over in hysterics) One of the cafeteria ladies throws…oh God, I can’t even…she throws a bag of garbage on his head and he pops up outta there and scares her so bad she starts screaming…

Rob
: I remember that! Didn’t you get suspended?

Doug
: Three days, dude. My parents were
pissed.

Colin
: Only you, Doug.

Doug
: Hey.
I’m
not the one who was just sucking root beer up my nose, was I?

Colin
: Whatever happened to Brittany anyway?

Trent
: (still laughing) She probably crawled up some teacher’s ass and got stuck there.

Me
: I think she moved away around fifth or sixth grade.

Dana
: See, Doug - this is what happens when you listen to Trent.

Doug
: I can’t eat chocolate pudding to this day without thinking about the look on Mrs. Hightower’s face…she did
not
like me after that. Every time I saw her in the hall she’d give me this dirty look.

Rob
: She was probably a butterscotch woman.

Colin
: Whaddaya say for old times’ sake I bring a pudding cup tomorrow and -

Everyone
: NO!!

28

We’d just
completed Friday’s run of Waltz of the Snowflakes when I felt Erik’s elbow nudging me in the ribs. “Hey, isn’t that Hot Lips over there?”

I looked down to see
Rob seated in the front row of the auditorium, waiting patiently for me to finish up. He lifted one hand and waggled his fingers with a grin.

“
Oh my gosh, is it six already? I gotta go - I’m supposed to be somewhere at six-thirty.” Bourréeing my way downstage, I sat on the edge of the platform and slid off instead of bothering with the stairs. “Hey, schmexy,” I greeted Rob, plopping down beside him to remove my pointe shoes.

“Hey,
Twinkle Toes. Lookin’ good.”

“You haven’t been waiting long, have you?” I winced
while trying to maneuver my sore toes into a pair of sneakers. A new blister had formed, courtesy of all the extra practice. Peachy. Reaching up, I unclipped my hair and shook it out.

“Nah, just a couple minutes.
Are you ready to go?”

“Yep. Just one sec.” I tried to catch
Miss Andrews’ attention by signaling with an arm. “I’m leaving now!” I called when she looked my way.

“One o’clock tomorrow - complete run-through, don’t forget!” she reminded me.

Waving bye to Erik, I wriggled into my coat before grabbing my duffel bag and following Rob out into the bitterly cold night. To my surprise, the few random flakes from the day before had called in for reinforcements. Snow was drifting slowly to the ground in a haze of white.

“I thought it was supposed to snow
last
night,” I remarked. My breath hung in the air as I lifted my face to the sky. The soft flakes kissed my eyelashes and cheeks, dissolving into cold wetness as soon as they discovered warmth.

“You’re the
Snow Queen - didn’t you order this?” Snatching me up by my waist, Rob whirled me around and around until I squealed for him to stop. He complied by dropping me back on my feet, then proceeded to silence my giggles with a steamy, intoxicating kiss. The snowflakes weren’t the only things melting. If he’d decided to throw me over the hood of the Tahoe and have his way with me right there, I probably wouldn’t have put up much of a protest. My hormones were at his mercy.

“
You’re lucky I have to get back to work,” he informed me, opening the car door and giving my backside a gentle push.

“
I wouldn’t call it lucky.” Pouting playfully, I got in and buckled up. Home was fairly close to Allegany College, so in spite of the snow we made it there in less than ten minutes. Sweet - I’d be able to run inside and change first. Maybe I’d even have time to grab a bite to eat.

“Drop you off here or next door?”

“Here. I want to run inside and change real quick.” I reached for the door handle.

“Sara
lou…” I felt his hand on my arm, restraining me. “I’m assuming nobody showed up to bother you today?”

“Only you.”
Sucking in my cheeks, I looked at him cross-eyed.

“
Oh, that’s very attractive. All right…I was just making sure. Have fun with the wild child.”

“Have fun with
your trees.” I couldn’t resist leaning over for one more kiss before hopping out. “Later, gator.”

I knew since my dad’s car was in the driveway the
security system wouldn’t be armed, and when I burst in through the unlocked door I practically collided with him. He was still in his uniform, cell phone in hand.

“
Well, hello ladybug!” He threw an arm around me and dropped a kiss on my forehead. “I was just about to call and see if you wanted me to come pick you up.”

“Are you just
now getting home?”

“Yeah…
we had some delays in DC. Snow’s coming down like crazy there. The plane had to be deiced several times. I sure hope this mess lets up before Monday.”

“Aw
…you must be worn out.”

“
Actually, not too bad - I think my second wind’s starting to kick in. Anything interesting happen since I talked to you last night?”

“
No, but I gotta hurry up and change. I’m running late,” I told him over my shoulder as I scurried off to my room. After swapping out the tights and leotard for jeans and a fleece hoodie, I returned to perch on the edge of the couch so I could pull on my socks and Timberlands.

“Where
are you headed?” Dad wanted to know.

“Sitting for Peyton
, remember?”

“Oh, that’s right.
What about dinner? You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”

“I’ll get something over there.”
It was 6:25 so I needed to get a move on. Stooping to rummage beneath the Christmas tree, I located Peyton’s present. Might as well go ahead and take it over now. It would help to keep her entertained. “I’ll see you after a while.”

“
All right, sweetie. Have fun.”

Heading back out into the darkness,
I jogged next door. I could see multicolored Christmas tree lights twinkling through the frosty front window. There was a huge pine wreath on the front door, but no other decorations visible from outside. Garish displays have never been Mrs. Weston’s taste. She’s always preferred things simple and elegant. Translation: dull as dirt. I wondered what she thought of our exterior lights. She probably considered them tacky. I didn’t care, I thought they were beautiful.

I
knocked on the door and Peyton opened it almost immediately, grinning up at me in that impish way of hers. She must have just had her bath. The blonde ringlets were still damp and she was dressed in her Little Mermaid nightgown and slippers. “It’s snowing,” she announced, like I didn’t already know.

I stepped inside and closed the door behind me, shivering. “Mm-
mm!
It is
cold
out there!”

“And it’s snowing,” she repeated, bouncing up and down
excitedly.

Mr.
Weston came walking in, still buttoning the cuffs on his shirt. “Oh, Sara…I didn’t know you were here already. Peyton, what have I told you about opening the door? Aren’t you supposed to come get Daddy first?”

He might as well have been talking to his shoes for all the attention she paid him. “Who’s that for?” she inquired, suddenly noticing the present in my hands.
The way she was trying not to smile, it was obvious she knew it was for her. Who else would get something wrapped in Dora the Explorer paper?

“
What, this? Oh, I brought this for Bob.” That was her goldfish. Yeah, I know - Bob the fish. Don’t even ask me how she came up with that name.

“
Nuh-uh! That’s not for Bob!” She started bouncing up and down again.

“Tell you what. I
might
let you open it in a little while if you’re really, really good.”

“You hear that,
prisspot? You have to behave.” Mr. Weston grabbed his leather jacket off the arm of the sofa and slipped his arms into it. To me, he said, “Deanna’s gone to Pittsburgh to spend the weekend with her sister. I have a city council meeting at seven, then a few of us will probably go out to the country club for a while. I should be back by eleven or so - is that okay?”

“Sure, that’s fine. Take your time.” The longer he stayed out, the better
, considering I got paid by the hour.

“
She’s already had dinner…oh, there’s pizza on the counter if you want any. Make yourself at home - well, you know the drill. My cell phone number and the number at the club are on the message board on the fridge. Call me if you have any problems.” He gave me a smile before instructing Peyton, “Don’t let me find out that you gave Sara any trouble. I want you in bed no later than nine, no arguments.”

She wrapped her arms around my leg and gave him a
who-me?
look. The second the front door closed behind him I heard, “Am I being good yet?”

Now come on - w
ho could resist that? Of course I caved. “Yes, you are. As a matter of fact, you’re being so good you don’t even have to wait.”

When
Rob called around 8:30 we were still on the floor playing with her collection of dolls. By this time Ballerina Barbie had already put on three dance recitals, won a beauty pageant, opened her own Easy Bake Oven cupcake shop and bitch-slapped Princess Sparkle. That Barbie is one ambitious chick.

“
Are we having fun yet?” Rob asked blithely.

“Oh, loads. You
off already?”

“Yeah.
We closed a little early because of the weather. Doug’s here - he’s gonna hang out for a while. I told him I’d reformat his computer for him. He’s got it loaded down with viruses.”

“
Nice going. Tell him to stop clicking on por-umm…p-o-r-n sites.” I could see having to explain to Mr. Weston where his five-year-old picked up
that
word. Hopefully she wouldn’t sound out what I’d just spelled.

Muffled l
aughter came from the other end as he repeated my comment to Doug. “He said it was worth every virus.”

“Sicko.
When he gets carpal tunnel we’ll all know why.”

“I’d rather not visualize that, if you don’t mind.”

“You know you love it,” I giggled.

“I think
you’re
the sicko!”

“Oh, whatever.
I should be home by eleven. Miss me ’til then.”

“Always
.”

After a snack of animal crackers, three bedtime stories and
the obligatory last-minute glass of water, I finally had the little livewire asleep in her bed upstairs. Once she settles down, it usually doesn’t take her long to conk out. As long as she has her stuffed koala bear and rainbow nightlight, she’s good.

I
was curled up on the sofa with the TV on low, flipping through the few unblocked channels when I felt my phone vibrate in the front pocket of my hoodie. Slipping it out, I saw that the caller was someone named Travis Hargrave.

“Sorry,
Travis Hargrave, never heard of you.” I dropped the phone on the end table beside me and went back to surfing. There wasn’t much on. I should have asked Mr. Weston for the parental control password. Sitcom reruns were about the most tolerable choice, but tonight I wasn’t interested in rehashed jokes and canned laughter.

Turning
off the TV, I resorted to playing a game on my iPhone but grew bored with that after about two minutes. I couldn’t shake this strangely restless feeling, like there was something important I should be doing. Even watching the light snowfall through the front window wasn’t enough to take the edge off my fidgety mood.

It almost felt as if there was something
menacing out there, hiding in the frigid darkness. Watching me. Waiting.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when that damned phone buzzed
right between my fingers. It didn’t ease my irritation any to see that it was the same caller from before. Whoever Travis Hargrave was, he needed to learn how to dial the right friggin’ number.

“Yes?” I snapped
impatiently.

There was only silence from the other end.

“Hel-
lo?
” Was he going to say something or just sit there and listen to me breathe all night?

I finally
heard a lethargic chuckle before the unfamiliar voice drawled, “Damn, girl. What’s with the negative ’tude?”

“You have the wrong number.” I was tempted to add,
pothead.

The stranger drew in a slow, deep breath before speaking again.
“Ah…now hold on a minute, angel. What makes you think I have the wrong number?” The drawn-out way he slurred his words led me to believe my first instinct was dead on. Sir Hargrave was either stoned or juiced. Or both.

“Probably because my name isn’t
Angel.”

“
Yeah? Let’s see if I can guess what it is. Is it…umm…Felicia?”

“Wrong again.
Better luck next time, ’kay?” I was just about to disconnect when the soft crooning of my own name stopped me.