Lovely Shadows (18 page)

“Why?”

She shook her head. “Aidan deserved better than me. I was damaged goods. I'm not going to lie—I had a serious party-girl reputation. Unfounded of course, but I never tried to correct people. Who I was with Aidan was the real me. Since he died, I can't bring myself to face that girl.” Tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

“I wish I had the chance to tell him how I felt.”

I reached across the table and covered her hand. “I believe he knows.” We locked eyes for a moment, then I pulled my hand away.

“Ask about Darren,” Aidan whispered.

“How did your brother feel about Aidan?”

“Hated him,” she chuckled without humor, “hated the whole family. He had a hard-on for Laura but she never paid attention to him. He took the rejection hard.”

“People get rejected all the time,” I pointed out.

“But Darren isn't used to that. He has more notches on his bedpost than George Clooney. Laura's rejection wasn't personal, but he took it that way. After that, he hated Aidan's guts.”

“So he must have been glad when Aidan died,” I pressed.

“Ironically, no. In fact, he acted like Aidan's death was his fault. I asked why, but he told me to drop it, that I was in over my head. Whatever that means,” she waved her hand dismissively.

I shuddered as chills ran down my spine. Darren had issued the exact same warning to me. Now I was positive Darren was involved. The stakes suddenly seemed insurmountable.

“Well, thank you for your time,” I said, holding out my hand. “I appreciate all the information. If you could keep this meeting confidential, that would be great. We don't want more teen moms than we can handle clamoring for a spot in this article. I'm already overworked.” I made a show of wiping my hand across my forehead.

She smiled. “Sure thing. Thanks for listening. I don't get to girl-talk that often.”

I left feeling sorry for her. Aidan sat quietly as I thought things over. I held his hand in mine, refusing to let go.

“What did you think?” I asked as we entered Browton.

“That was the Amber I remembered—the quiet, thoughtful, soft-spoken Amber with whom I fell in love.”

“And now?”

“I realize that yes, I did love her but no where near as much as I love you. My relationship with her wouldn't have lasted. Our families didn't like each other. I think my parents would have loved you.”

“That's nice to hear. What do you make of Darren now?”

“He's involved, but not alone. Someone else orchestrated this mess, but who?”

“Andy?”

“Who else? I'm flattered she named Joey after me, but it probably wasn't the smartest idea.”

“Probably not.” Yet, I understood. Already I planned to name my first son Aidan, even if Levi was the father. Which he would be, no question.

Tired and frustrated by the endless pursuit of truth, I ate dinner with Grandpa and Luke then retreated to my room, where I promptly fell asleep in Aidan's arms.

14.

“You would have liked her,” I told Billie the next afternoon. “She reminds me a lot of you—no nonsense, blunt. She's someone we would hang out with.”

“Kind of a conflict of interest for you, isn't it?” Billie asked.

“Not really, not anymore.”

I inhaled another scoop of my ice cream as I took in the scene at Dairy World. It amazed me how far removed from ordinary life I felt. While various people I knew played volleyball or sat on blankets under the trees, I was trying to solve a potential murder, deal with my feelings for a ghost, balance my relationship with Levi, and come to grips with the idea that my life would never be the same.

“How are things with Luke?” My brother was conspicuously quiet about his relationship with my best friend.

“Good,” she replied, “good.”

Good and Billie were not common terms. “You don't want to elaborate?”

“Usually I do, but I don't know. This time it doesn't seem appropriate.”

I raised an eyebrow. Not divulging details was uncharacteristic of her. I waited for a moment, studying her slowly reddening face, the way her eyes glazed over. Oh dear Lord...

“You did not!”

“None of your business!” she snapped.

“He's my brother!”

“He's an adult.”

“Jesus Christ!”

Her eyes widened. I never took the Lord's name in vain.

“You have no room to judge, Jessa. At least I'm not cheating on my boyfriend with a dead guy!

Her voice rose a few octaves. People looked at us questioningly.

“Look,” I said softly, “I'm not judging you, but I do think you guys are rushing things. I mean, couldn't you have waited a few months? Its only been a week!”

“Longer,” she disagreed. “Waiting is your choice; it isn't mine.”

I covered my face with my hands as I struggled to get a grip on my emotions. Everything was too much anymore. Early this morning, around four or five, I woke up to Aidan writing letters—one for his parents, one for each of his sisters, and one for his brother. I asked him what he was doing, and he said he was saying goodbye.

“Is there one for me in there?” I teased, choking back the pain I felt bubbling up in my chest.

“No,” he said, “because I'm never saying goodbye to you.”

I led him over to my bed where we made out for the next few hours. Every kiss, every touch, was slow and measured, as if we were dragging out the inevitable. His time was fast approaching; every second mattered. I absorbed as much of him as I could in the early morning hours. He faded away moments after, but instead of feeling scared or alone, I felt restful.

Every moment we spent together only brought us closer to him crossing over. I loved him so much the force of it knocked me breathless. My love for Levi was no less important, but what I felt for Aidan...I'd changed so much in the last month. The kind of thing I had with Aidan was something I used to run from, because I couldn't explain it. My relationship with Levi was definable, which made it stable for me. Aidan and I had something that people spent their entire lives searching for, something people freely died for, something people built monuments for and declared wars over. We had a love that truly passed every test, broke every rule, and defied all logic.

I looked at Billie as I considered my relationship with Aidan in light of her relationship with Luke. Who was I to say anything?

“I'm sorry,” I said.

“I know.”

“Look, I need to figure this out. Darren has it bad for Aidan's family, especially his sister Laura. If you factor in Joey being named after Aidan, Andy becomes a likely suspect too. I just don't know how to connect all the dots.”

Billie shrugged. “Have you ever considered Aidan wasn't meant to die? That it was some horrible prank or game gone wrong?”

“I've considered that,” I admitted, “Aidan isn't convinced, though.”

“Maybe his sister was supposed to die.” Billie glanced towards the edge of the parking lot where some girls we knew from school were laughing. I didn't really see them, though. I was in a state of shock.

“Laura,” I whispered, my eyes wide.

Billie looked at me. “What?”

“Laura was supposed to die.”

“It was an errant thought,” Billie said dismissively.

I shook my head. “No, think about it. Darren hates the Summers, Laura especially. He actually seemed sorry about Aidan's death. Plus, Amber never mentioned any animosity between Darren and Aidan. She did, however, mention Darren's disdain for Laura. I mean, how many times can you get rejected before it starts to really hurt?”

Billie cocked her head thoughtfully. “I guess that is likely.”

“What if,” I said excitedly, “Aidan wasn't supposed to die? What if Laura was?”

“You're happy that his sister was supposed to die instead?”

“No, but this means...”

“...Laura's still alive and Darren might be killing her as we speak.”

I jumped up and tossed the rest of my ice cream in the trash. “We need to go.”

I floored it home, where I raced up to my room and dug through my drawers for my lists. I found the one marked “Aidan's Family” and ran my finger down the page until I came across Laura's name.

“289-555-4536,” I recited as Billie dialed the number on her cell phone.

I anxiously bit my nails as the phone rang. Billie paced around the room.

“Sorry, wrong number,” she said then snapped her phone shut. “Well, she's alive. Now what?”

“Call the police?”

“And tell them what? That you believe the sister of your dead boyfriend is in mortal danger? We don't have solid proof.”

“We can try. What's the worse that could happen? They laugh at us?”

She rubbed her temples. “I just think we need something more concrete than what we have, which is hunches. Where is Aidan?”

“I don't know but he'll be back. In the meantime, we know she's alive, so we need to do something to keep it that way.”

“Short of stalking her, what do you suggest?”

“Calling her every hour.”

Billie laughed. “Come on, Jessa! That's ludicrous. Look, I know you're worried but please, let it go for now, okay? Let's wait until Aidan appears or whatever it is he does, and we can take it from there. Besides, you have a date with Levi in two hours. Take a bath, read a book. Just chill.”

“When did you become the voice of reason?”

“About four days ago. Now go take a shower. I'm going to find Luke.”

“Billie...”

“No funny business, I promise. Besides, I'm too keyed up to make out. When you get out of the shower, we'll call Laura again.”

“Fine.” I marched into the bathroom and snapped the lock shut. I stripped down while I waited for the water to warm up.

Laura was supposed to die. The thought stunned and terrified me to the core. Waiting for Aidan to return seemed stupid. Why not go to the police? Or better yet, just cut out the middle man and tell Laura herself? Calling Laura every hour was ridiculous, as Billie pointed out. Something needed to be done.

I stood under the shower head and waited for the warmth to ease the tension in my muscles. However, the longer I stood there the more anxious I became. I quickly shampooed my hair then scrubbed down. Wrapping a towel around myself I went back to my room. I dressed without much awareness of what I was wearing, my mind focused on other things.

If I called her from my personal cell phone, would my number show up on her caller ID? If I told her that someone was after her, would she believe me? Would she call the police? Or would she assume I was just a prankster?

Downstairs Billie and Luke were making out on the couch. God, they were like animals in heat! I smacked Luke on the back of the head as I passed.

“What is your problem?”

“Not everyone wants to witness this episode of 'Making Baby',” I retorted. “Grandpa is going to bust you one of these times. Are you guys at least using protection?”

“Yes,” they chimed in unison.

“Good. I'm going out with Levi. Grandpa will be home in an hour. Keep that in mind.” But they weren't listening to me. Already they were kissing again. So much for being too keyed up to fool around.

As Levi drove us to Da Vinci's, an Italian restaurant twenty miles away, I realized that I wanted to fool around too. I was tired of being responsible, tired of playing Nancy Drew, tired of battling my feelings for Aidan. Levi was here, I loved him and he loved me. Why was this so hard for me? Why was I fighting so hard to stay on the straight and narrow? For once I wanted to deviate from the path I've always followed, the one the secured my place in Heaven. For once, I wanted to follow my own desires.

Da Vinci's was a cute little bistro off the main street. A cliché in every way, the brick walls were decorated with plastic onions and peppers hanging from ropes; pictures of fat men in chef's uniforms; and drawings of Italy. Red-and-white checkered tablecloths laid over round tables. For a stereotypical establishment, they had the best meatballs and garlic bread in Kansas.

The waiter seated us near a window and presented us with our menus. I wasn't hungry so I ordered spaghetti and Levi ordered lasagna. When the waiter left, Levi reached across the table and took my hand.

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

And I thought I'd been doing so well. “I'm fine, just tired. I haven't been sleeping well these days.” That was an understatement.

“Are you sick?”

“No.”
Not in the way you mean.
“I have a lot on my mind.”

“Well, tell me about it. I'm a good listener.” He smiled broadly.

How I wished I could tell him exactly what was going on. Maybe he could give me some guy insight to the problem. I could just imagine that conversation:

“Well, I'm in love with a dead guy.”

“Let me call the mental institution.”

Right, like was going to risk that. Instead I pushed the blame onto Billie and Luke. I gave a brief synopsis of my conversation with Billie.