The Ghost of Fossil Glen (11 page)

Allie was released from the hospital a little after noon. At home, she slept for a while. Later she sat in bed, propped up on pillows her mother had fluffed behind her head. Her parents sat at the foot of the bed, and Michael snuggled right by her side. Although he didn't understand exactly what had happened, he seemed reluctant to let Allie out of his sight. She was happy to have his warm little body next to hers.

Allie took a sip of the sweet tea her dad had brought on a tray. She looked gratefully at her family. “I'm really okay, you know,” she said. But she had to admit that it felt good to have so much care and concern lavished on her.

Michael reached for the afternoon edition of
The Seneca Times
, which Mr. Nichols had brought into the room. “Look, Allie. It's you!” He pointed to a front-page picture of Allie being lifted out of the glen by a rescue worker.

Allie looked at the headline:
MAN DIES, GIRL RESCUED, BODY UNCOVERED AT FOSSIL GLEN
. She set the paper aside. She didn't feel like reading the article just yet.

“Oh, I can't bear to look at that picture,” said Allie's mother with a shudder. “When I think—” She broke off and reached over to hug Allie once again.

Allie swallowed hard as she, too, imagined what could have happened in the glen.

“My brave little Allie-Cat,” said her father, stroking her hair.

The telephone rang, and Mr. Nichols went to answer it. He came back to Allie's room and announced, “That was the police. They're coming over for the diary.”

“I'll get it,” said Allie, starting to get up out of bed.

“You're supposed to stay off that ankle, young lady,” said her mother. “Let me get the diary.”

“I'll be careful, Mom,” Allie said, hopping on one foot across the room. “I've got to get it myself. You'll see. It's kind of tricky.”

Her parents and Michael watched as Allie pounded twice on the top of her new desk. When the hinges popped open, Allie reached into the secret compartment and took out Lucy's diary. As she held it up for them to see, the doorbell rang.

“The police!” said Michael excitedly. He ran downstairs to open the door, followed by his father.

Allie handed the journal to her mother. Maybe it was the little blue pills the doctor had given her, or the aftermath of the morning's excitement, or the relief of handing Lucy's journal over to the police, but she suddenly felt exhausted. She hopped slowly back to bed, curled up beneath the covers, closed her eyes, and almost immediately fell sound asleep.

That evening, Dub stopped over. Mrs. Nichols told him to go on up to Allie's room.

“Al? Are you all right?”

“Hi, Dub.” Allie sat up in bed. She was awfully glad to see him, even though she felt a bit embarrassed to be wearing her old pink pajamas with little purple ponies all over them. “Yeah, I'm okay,” she replied. “Mom and Dad are treating me like an invalid, but I'm really fine.”

“Michael told me the
police
came.”

Allie smiled. “Yeah. Michael thought that was really cool.”

“What did they want?”

“They came to get Lucy's diary. They'd already asked me about a million questions at the hospital.”

“Did you say anything to them about—you know…”

“What?”

“The
ghost
.”

“No.”

“Good thing,” said Dub, with a sigh of relief.

“I almost did,” said Allie. “But then I tried to imagine explaining it…So I just told them about the diary and kept quiet about the other stuff.”

“Did you tell them about Gag-Me following you to the glen after school yesterday?” Dub asked.

“I said I was pretty sure he was there. I told them to look for those footprints we saw. They asked why he would have been after
me
, and I had to tell about calling him, and what I said. My mother nearly had a heart attack when she heard that.”

“I can imagine,” Dub said dryly.

“The police aren't sure whether he actually knew that I was the one with the diary. My mom bought all that furniture from the Stiles house, so they think he might have figured it out. Anyway, they said the diary by itself wouldn't have been enough to prove that he murdered Lucy. Without a body, Gag-Me could have said the diary was nothing more than Lucy's overactive imagination.” She stopped to grin at Dub. “We all know about girls and their overactive imaginations. So getting rid of the body was even more important to him than getting his hands on the diary.”

“So that's why he was at the glen, to get rid of the body?” Dub asked.

“Yeah.”

“And you discovered him in the act!”

“Yeah. Hoover took off, and I was trying to get her to come back.”

“I was wondering where the heck you'd gone when these loud screams started echoing down the glen. Geez, Al, talk about bloodcurdling. You scared us to death.”

“You think
you
were scared!”

They were both quiet, remembering.

Allie broke the silence. “The police called again a while ago. They tracked down Lucy's mom out in California to tell her about finding the body and all, and guess what? Gag-Me followed her out there after Lucy died and got her to marry him somehow.”

“Yuck,” said Dub.

“I know. And guess what else? She never signed any papers saying he could sell building lots in the glen. She didn't know anything about it. She said she told him a couple of weeks ago that she wanted a divorce. So he probably figured this was his last chance to make his big deal.”

“Wow,” said Dub. “He almost got away with it.”

“And guess what else? She called here while I was asleep and talked to my mom.”

“Lucy's mother?”

“Yeah. She said she wanted to thank me and all. I guess Mom told her the whole story, including how upset we all were when we saw Gag-Me's
FOR SALE
sign. Anyway, Mrs. Stiles said she was going to make sure the glen can never be developed. She's going to make it a nature preserve or something, and name it after Lucy.”

“Cool!” said Dub.

“I know. Mr. Henry will be glad when he hears that. Oh, hi, Mom.”

Mrs. Nichols was standing at the door, holding the portable phone. “It's Karen, sweetie. Shall I have her call back later?”

Allie hesitated. “No,” she said. “I can talk now, I guess.”

Her mother handed her the phone and left. “Hello?” said Allie.

“Hi!” Karen's voice was breathless with excitement. “Did you see the paper? You're on the front page! There's a huge picture and a whole big article!”

“Yes,” Allie answered. “I saw it.”

“It's so awesome, discovering a murder! Everybody's talking about it.”

“Mmmm,” said Allie, curious to see what it was that Karen wanted.

“It must have been so gross to have that guy die right before your eyes.”

“Actually,” said Allie, “I didn't see him die.”

“Whatever,” said Karen breezily. “It's still totally gross. Did you see that girl's body? Was it like really, really disgusting?”

“All I saw was a bone,” Allie said.

“Ewwww!” Karen shrieked with horrified delight. “And what about the guy? He murdered her, right? How did he do it?”

“Why do you want to know?” asked Allie.

“Why? It's like the biggest thing that's ever happened around here.”

“You didn't seem too interested yesterday,” said Allie. “You said I was making the whole thing up.”

Karen laughed. “Oh, Allie! Don't take everything so seriously! Pam and I were just kidding around. So tell me, how did he kill her? Do you know?”

“Yes,” said Allie. “I do. But if I'm such a liar, how do you know you can believe me?”

“Allie,
come on
. Lighten up! Can't you take a
joke?
You're such a party pooper sometimes.”

Allie was silent.

“Hey,” Karen went on. “I know! Why don't you come over tonight? Pam's sleeping over. We can watch the season finale of
Teen Twins
. The previews looked really awesome.”

Allie almost smiled. Two days before, she would have jumped at the chance to spend a Friday night at Karen's house. But now she said, “I can't, Karen. I've already got a friend over—Dub. But thanks, anyway.”

No sound came from the other end of the line. Allie imagined the look of surprise on Karen's face. “Well, I've got to go,” Allie said. “I'll see you Monday, Karen. Bye.”

She clicked the phone off and looked at Dub, who had been listening, eyebrows raised. “What?” she said.

Dub shook his finger at her, making a tsk-tsk sound. “Queen Karen isn't used to having her loyal subjects dismiss her.”

Allie shrugged.

“Let me guess,” said Dub. “Now that you're a big celebrity, she's acting like your best friend again. This afternoon I heard her telling everybody that you told her
all
about Lucy's murder yesterday, but that she had promised not to say anything.”

“I can't believe it. Yesterday she wouldn't even talk to me.” Allie shook her head in amazement. “How could I ever be so dumb as to think she was my friend?”

Dub tactfully said nothing.

“Well, I think I've figured something out,” said Allie.

“What?”

“When you start to see ghosts and hear voices
—that's
when you find out who your friends really are.” She looked down at her hands on top of the covers, embarrassed to look at Dub. After a minute, she glanced up to find Dub grinning at her. “Okay,” she said, “I admit it. You were right about Karen. And Pam, too, I guess.” She grinned back. “I really hate it when you're right.”

“I can't help it,” said Dub with false modesty. “Being right is what I do.”

“It's weird,” said Allie, speaking her thoughts out loud as they came to her. “Sometimes I see things other people don't notice—”

“Yeah,” said Dub, interrupting. “Like ghosts!”

“But,” Allie went on, “other times, the truth is right in front of my face and I don't see it. I mean, I kept trying to figure out what I was doing wrong to make Karen and Pam not like me, and it wasn't my fault at all.”

“You
were
a little dense on that one,” Dub said. “But you caught on.” He shrugged. “Nobody's perfect.”

“Gee, thanks,” said Allie wryly. She picked for a moment at one of the bandages on her hand, then said, “I'm kind of sorry it's over.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm going to miss her.”

Dub looked incredulous. “Karen?”

“No, silly. Lucy's ghost.”

“I thought you said it was scary having her around.”

“It was, at first. But then it was so exciting.”

“If you ask me, it got a little
too
exciting this morning,” said Dub.

Allie laughed in agreement.

Dub thought for a minute and said, “She probably won't be back, you know. I think she got what she was looking for.”

Allie nodded. “Dub, she saved my life. When I was on the cliff and Gag-Me was about to catch me, I was sure I was going to die. I think I would have, too, except all of a sudden I heard him say, ‘No! It can't be! Go away! You're dead!' And then he screamed and—fell.”

Dub's brow wrinkled in concentration. “You think he was talking to Lucy?”

“Who else?”

“You think he saw her?”

Allie nodded. “I think she appeared to him and scared him—to death.”

Dub looked impressed. “Wow.” Then he said, “What do you think will happen now?”

“Well, the truth is out now about Lucy's murder. Gag-Me's dead. Lucy's mom is going to protect the glen. I guess Lucy's ghost can go wherever spirits go to rest in peace.”

“So now everything is going to go back to normal.” Dub sounded disappointed.

“Oh, I don't know about that,” said Allie. She hesitated, then remembered: this was Dub. “What's
normal?
” she asked.

Dub laughed. “Good question.”

“There's no telling what might happen next.”

Dub said teasingly, “Oh, like maybe another ghost will come along tomorrow, needing your help.”

“It might,” said Allie. “I'll be ready, just in case.”

Questions for the Author

CYNTHIA DEFELICE

What did you want to be when you grew up?

Happy. That was it. No further ambitions.

When did you realize you wanted to be a writer?

Not until I was 36. Talk about late bloomers! I was working as a school librarian, which I loved, when I suddenly KNEW I wanted to try to write the kinds of books I loved sharing with my students

What's your first childhood memory?

I was playing down in the cellar window hole of our house (don't ask me why) and I poked my head up out of the hole into the sunshine. There were buttercups growing nearby and they were very yellow in the sun. I had the clear thought that I was me, a unique person, and that I was part of the world. I was very young, probably four. I don't think I had words then for the feeling I had, but I felt its meaning very strongly.

What's your most embarrassing childhood memory?

Oooh, lots of those! And the worst part was, I couldn't hide it. My face turned beet red—a dead giveaway every time.

What's your favorite childhood memory?

Fishing and acting as first mate on Captain Hank Garback's charter boat with my brothers.

As a young person, who did you look up to most?

My dad, who was a good listener and very understanding.

What was your worst subject in school?

Math. Shudder. I still have math anxiety.

What was your best subject in school?

Surprise—English!

What was your first job?

Working in a bookstore in high school.

How did you celebrate publishing your first book?

Oh, I worked the celebrating to death! We celebrated the acceptance phone call. Then the contract. Then the advance check. The first galleys. The first review. Publication. And on and on. Champagne, ice cream, you name it!

Where do you write your books?

In my office, second floor of my house on Seneca Lake. I am deeply attached to my office and find it difficult to write anywhere else.

Which of your characters is most like you?

Allie Nichols, except that she is much braver, smarter, and cooler than I ever was!

When you finish a book, who reads it first?

My husband. He's a good critic. And I love getting the male point of view.

Are you a morning person or a night owl?

I'm a morning person for sure. I go to bed pathetically early.

What's your idea of the best meal ever?

Shrimp or fish pulled fresh from the ocean and cooked right then on the grill on the boat.

Which do you like better: cats or dogs?

No contest: dogs. I really enjoyed writing about Hoover, Mr. Henry's golden retriever, in the books about Allie Nichols. Look for Josie, a dog character in my novel
Signal
. There's also a dog in the novel I'm working on now!

What do you value most in your friends?

Humor, brains, and honesty.

Who is your favorite fictional character?

I first read
To Kill a Mockingbird
when I was in fifth grade, and Boo Radley still haunts me.

What are you most afraid of?

Giving a dumb answer to a question like this one.

What time of year do you like best?

Fall, because that's when we go on our summer vacation!

What's your favorite TV show?

NFL football.

What's the best advice you have ever received about writing?

Plan on throwing out most of what you write

What do you want readers to remember about your books?

The characters.

What would you do if you ever stopped writing?

I hope to work with horses or dogs, and volunteer to teach adults to read.

Where in the world do you feel most at home?

I crave being outdoors.

What do you wish you could do better?

I would love to be able to play a musical instrument well, and I'd love to be an accomplished horsewoman. These are both VERY distant goals. So distant that I think I'll need to wait for my next life.