Luminosity (Gravity Series #3) (The Gravity Series) (9 page)

I wanted to tell him I felt the same way. But too many things had happened before to bruise my trust, even if those had explanations that I understood now. Dating Lainey Ford out of the blue on his father’s orders had, especially, left a dent in my faith. A worried part of me didn’t know if I would ever fully recover from it.

###

Just as I’d worried, it wasn’t just one day of shredding files. Henry was Thornhill’s new full time employee. I didn’t know if maybe that anonymous car in the parking lot had caught us after all or what, but it seemed like Phillip was trying to keep him as busy and preoccupied as possible. Driving past Thornhill’s office one day, I saw two huge recycling trucks parked at the curb.

A change in weather brought a thaw to the persistent freeze, snow melting and giving way to mud. Claire and my father had continued to be distant with each other at home. Claire was preparing for her first Thornhill event, a bake sale at my school. Advertisements with cookies dressed as kings and queens decorated the billboards.

It was weeks before I saw Henry for more than a glance at school.
Our original library date was delayed several times, until we finally got an opportunity to meet up.

I had to bargain for a day off
, Henry told me when we wrote each other back and forth about it.
I’m sorry I’m such a pain.

You’re not a pain. Your father’s a pain. I’d like to give your father a pain, too.

By the time I arrived at the library, I was practically buzzing with excitement. I went inside, turned the corner, and disappointment slammed into me. Cheryl Rhodes, Henry’s beautiful and snobbish mother, was standing in the front room. She was speaking with her two assistants: Roger, who was also her lover, and a much more innocent-looking young lady whom I’d never seen before.

The sight of Cheryl hit me with an electric shock that coursed through my whole body. Why was she here? Why today? Had they caught wind of our plans and decided to spy on us?

I sped past them, not getting close, and through the glass hallway to the main part of the library. In my haste, I bumped into Charlotte Gary, the punk girl from school, who had been shuffling the opposite way.

“Do you mind?” she growled at me. She was holding her grimy trench coat closed, but a couple of loose CDs tumbled to the dark carpet. She scrambled to pick them up.

“Are you stealing those?”

“Shut up and mind your own business, vanilla,” she sneered, and stalked off. I didn’t care enough to report it to the desk; so, instead, I went to the fantasy section to meet with Henry.

He was already waiting for me beneath a painted mural of a dragon when I arrived, leaning against the shelves. His arms were crossed tightly, brow furrowed as he glared at the floor.

He glanced up, and his worried eyes flickered when he noticed me. The look was intense and almost protective, burning into me. We embraced briefly, and he cupped his hand to the back of my head and planted a kiss on my lips. I could feel his body trembling underneath his clothes.

“What is your mother doing here?” I whispered. I felt paranoid just being in the same building with them, as if I’d been followed.

He ran his hand roughly through his tousled brown hair. “She has this pet project she’s been rambling about for weeks. I don’t know why today of all days is when she decided to get around to it, but she just showed up.”

“Do you think she knows about us?”

“I don’t know. It’s possible. But I think she and my father would have blown up on me if so.”

“What’s the pet project?”

“She’s setting up a historical collection, like a little museum piece. There are artifacts from the settling of Hell and from its history. You know she’s a big patron of this library. She’s put all kinds of money into the redecorating.”

Frustration made me feel instantly tired and winded. I leaned my forehead against the bookshelves, shutting my eyes and breathing in the scent of books. “Why didn’t you just text me and cancel?” I wanted to be angry at someone, and he was the only one in front of me.

“I had no idea she was going to be here until I got here,” he said pleadingly. “I’m sorry, I only arrived five minutes before you. If it was just her, I wouldn’t be as leery, but it’s Roger, too. He has a hundred eyes and I know he spies on me every chance he gets.”

So, my feelings of paranoia were justified. The thought made me shiver, thinking about Roger’s hollow eyes and tall, slender frame. He reminded me of an impeccable, modern Grim Reaper.

“So, this is it?” I knew that, of course, but I stubbornly wanted him to confirm the bad news.

He bit his lip, clasped his hand to my jaw and kissed me firmly. He pulled me close, the kiss full of longing, and turned me so that he could push my back up against the bookshelves. I couldn’t breathe, dizzy with him.

In a split second he stepped away, leaving me floating, my skin humming again. My irritation had dissipated for the time being.

“Feel free to answer all of my questions that way,” I said.

A grin tugged at one corner of his mouth and he shook his head. “It’s not a good idea for us to stay here. She could send Roger around to snoop at any moment; I know they saw my car parked out front. We’ll figure something out.” He stroked my cheek gently with his thumb, his voice thick. “I’ve missed you so much.”

He touched his lips to mine, then squeezed my hand and we parted.

Seeing him only made my yearning worse. It was like one hit of a drug when all I wanted was to go on a binge. I watched him walk around the bookshelves and disappear, my heart falling with every step.

I was already pissed off at Cheryl Rhodes, but I was also curious about the items she was going to put on show. I slowly went back through the glass tunnel towards the front, and positioned myself by the magazine racks so I could see what was going on.

Three tall, cherry wood display cases stood in front of Cheryl and her two assistants. A stack of wooden crates were beside that, overflowing with packing peanuts.

Cheryl was admonishing her meek new assistant, who looked maybe a year or two older than me. Her big glasses reminded me of Theo when I’d first met her, although otherwise they looked nothing alike.

“The ceremonial objects should be front and center,” Cheryl instructed.

“Should we group everything by size or color?” the meek assistant asked. A little spiral notebook supported her chin.

“We’re not talking about crayons,” Cheryl growled. “I need coffee.”

She looked pleadingly towards Roger, whose spindly form was totally still. Now that I had a chance to study him, he looked more like Ichabod Crane after a nose job.

All three of them marched away, the assistant scampering to keep up. When they rushed out the front door, I dropped the magazine in my hand and sidled over to the display.

The cases were lined with plush, royal blue velvet. Nothing had been put inside yet. Curious, I moved around the peanuts in one of the wooden crates.

A long object wrapped in a silky, scarlet cloth lay just beneath the top. I pulled the bundle out and delicately unfolded the red cloth. As it felt away, I gulped. A large, serrated knife with animals carved into the ivory handle sat in my palm. I could make out a pig, a dog, and a horse, among others. The knife creeped me out; the size and shape reminded me of Warwick’s hunting knife.

I felt movement on my neck, like someone breathing. Before I could turn, a woman whispered in my ear. “
Pay attention
,” she said.

I gasped, my heart pounding. I spun around, but no one was even near me. The few patrons of the library in the room were engrossed in the nearby DVD collection. I tossed the knife and the scarlet cloth back into the crate and hightailed it to the street, running past Roger with a tray of coffee cups in his hand.

###

I finally got the chance—and worked up the courage—to call Madison and confront her with what I’d found in the planner. I almost hung the phone up as it rang, second-guessing myself. I tapped my fingers nervously on my knee.

“Who is this?” Madison barked.

“Aren’t you polite?” I muttered, rolling my eyes. “It’s Ariel Donovan.”

“Oh.” A pause. “How did you get my number?”

“I asked around for it.” I didn’t want her to discover that I’d been snooping yet.

“Gotcha. Sorry about the snappy greeting. I’ve been harassed with calls the last couple weeks. I don’t recognize any of the numbers, but they leave all kinds of nasty messages.”

“Do you think it’s Lainey?”

“I
know
it’s Lainey,” she said firmly. “No question. My friends—ex-friends now that they’ve chosen sides—told me so. Plus it just stinks of her kind of dirty trick.”

I neglected to point out that she had pulled some pretty dirty tricks herself. Cradling the phone with my chin, I dug around in my backpack and retrieved a notebook and a pen in case she spilled anything of interest. It wouldn’t be solid evidence but it would be a start.

“Why did you call me in the first place?” Madison asked.

“I was really thrown by what you told me,” I said carefully. “About Thornhill pulling you two apart. It was like deja vu; the same thing happened to Jenna and me.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Madison said, her voice muffled like her mouth was pressed up against her phone. I didn’t know girls of her kind were capable of showing emotion; she surprised me.

“I’m suspicious too, about a lot of things,” I said. “Jenna had to have been—“a hard lump rose in my throat, a sudden wave of sadness taking me by surprise”—put in the lake at Lainey’s dock, but wouldn’t that mean that she knew about it?”

“Awfully solid line of questioning.”

I took a deep breath and played my Ace. “I found your planner.”

Another pause, this one so long that I peeked at my phone to see if she’d hung up.

“I left it in the bathroom, didn’t I?” she asked, her voice tight.

“Yes.”

“I’m glad you found it and not someone else. You aren’t going to blackmail me, are you?”

The thought hadn’t even occurred to me. “Why would I do that? Like I said, I’m suspicious, too. Lainey would never trust me, anyway. I figured we could compare notes.”

“I thought maybe Lainey had something to do with it, yes,” Madison said, hesitation making her words stilted. “But then I did the math, and we were gone the whole weekend that Jenna was kidnapped.”

“Yet, you’re still questioning it?”

“I know, Ariel. I know how it sounds. But I don’t want to push it. Please tell me you won’t say anything.” I heard panic and regret in her voice. She wished she hadn’t answered the phone or opened her mouth.

“What? Why?” I jumped up off of the couch, even though she couldn’t see me, and started pacing.

“Because I’m just being paranoid. I don’t want to get involved.”

“You’re not….”

But this time she actually disconnected the call, leaving me in stunned silence.

Hugh called me upstairs to help him cook dinner. I immersed myself in the task, keeping silent as he ranted about the price of the ingredients. I should have known not to reveal so much over the phone. Now I’d blown my chance and odds were I wouldn’t get another one.

As I was setting silverware out on the table, I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket.

Meeet up w me after basketball practice, tues in locker. Maddie.

Relieved, my initial worry washed away. I didn’t know what had changed her mind, but I knew it was my only chance at finding out what she knew.

CHAPTER 8

“HOW ABOUT LOOKING
at what caused the severe temperature changes in the first place?” asked a girl in chemistry.

“Global warming?” Alex asked.

“The most likely hypothesis,” Golem agreed, standing up against his desk with his arms crossed.

“Then why was it contained to Hell?” the determined girl pressed. “There was three feet of snow here during that last storm and in Brighton there was less than a foot.”

Even though we’d figured out what killed the birds, Mr. Golem had continued our Friday chats in class. Probably because he still wanted to be proven wrong. As time passed, however, the talks about the birds had strayed from their original subject. Now we spoke about the weird eccentricities of our town, the unusually high reports of ghost sightings and electrical disruptions. The debates got so heated one would think we were doing it for a contest.

On that day, there was a knock on the door and Golem went to answer it. Principal McPherson barged into the room. Looking frazzled instead of his usual emotionless self, he whispered a quick word to Mr. Golem, whose face instantly fell.

McPherson left with renewed smugness on his ugly mug. His leg was still dragging, but not any worse than before. I peered at Alex pointedly, but he just raised his blond eyebrow at me.

“What was that about?” Alex asked me.

I shrugged, frowning. “No idea. But it seems like McPherson’s got something wrong with him.”