Trust Me (15 page)

“Well, I guess that’s fair since it’s her car,” her father answered. His voice sounded completely normal, but he shot
her a concerned glance.

“Yep, yep. Completely fair,” Rae answered. She gave him a smile that she hoped looked well-adjusted and happy
and not like some hideous grimace. “How were your classes?”

Her father laughed. “My classes are good. A few of my students actually stay awake during my lectures.”

Rae nodded. “That’s important.” She couldn’t think of another question to ask, and her dad seemed to get that
she’d rather not talk. They rode the rest of the way home in silence, but a good kind of silence. She guessed she’d
managed to reassure her father enough.

“So what do you think?” he asked as he pulled into their driveway. “Pizza? Or heat up something Alice left us?”

“You pick,” Rae answered, unbuckling her seat belt. The thought of any kind of food was repulsive to her right
now, although she figured she’d have to choke something down to keep her dad’s worry-o-meter from slipping all
the way over to the red zone.

“Well, dig out your sombrero,” her father said as he led the way to the house. “I’m pulling out the tamale pie.”

Rae’s stomach did a flip-flop. “Good choice. I’m going to go start on my homework before we eat.”

She hurried down the hall, past the fluffy white clouds painted on the blue background, and into her room. She
went straight for the phone books in the bottom drawer of her dresser and pulled out the white pages. She’d been
dying to do this ever since she’d found Amanda Reese’s name, and now she finally had time. “Amanda Reese,” she
muttered as she paged through. “Here we go. Only three of them. Good.”

She sat down in her black leather desk chair, grabbed a pen, and circled the numbers. Then she sat there. Just sat
there.
You’ve got to know the truth,
she thought.
It might even save your life.
She snatched up the phone before she
had time to change her mind and punched in the number of the first Amanda Reese.

“Hello?” a woman answered.

Guess I should have planned what to say first,
Rae thought. “Hi. My name’s Rae Voight. I’m trying to track down
some old friends of my mother’s. I found your name in a box of her stuff, but I’m not sure if you’re the right Amanda
Reese. My mom’s name was Melissa. You would have known her about sixteen years ago.”

The woman laughed. “Sixteen years ago I was in grade school,” she said.

“Oh.” Rae let out a deep breath. “Well, I guessyou’re not the Amanda I’m looking for,” she said.

“Did you say her name
was
Melissa?” the wrong Amanda asked.

“Yeah. Um, she died when I was a baby,” Rae explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh. I just didn’t make the connection at first,” the woman said. She sounded like
she wanted to rush over and make Rae cookies or something.

“It’s okay. It was, you know, it was a long time ago,” Rae managed to get out. “But thanks for your help.” She hung
up quickly.

“Time for Amanda Reese number two,” Rae muttered, punching in the numbers. She was going to get through the
calls as fast as possible. It was the only way she’d get through them at all.

Rae heard someone pick up the phone on the other end, but no one said anything. “Hello. I’m trying to reach
Amanda Reese.”

“No, I’m not interested in changing my longdistance service,” a woman snapped. Rae could hear a little boy asking
for juice in the background.

“That’s not why I’m calling,” Rae began.

“I’m not interested in donating any money to anything,” the woman said.

“I’m not selling anything. I just-” Rae heard the phone hit the floor with a clatter. There was ascuffling sound, then
the woman came back on the line. “Dropped you. Sorry. I was trying to pour juice and hold the phone. So what is it
you do want?”

Rae gave the woman the same speech she’d given Amanda number one. Only this time she made sure not to imply
her mother was dead. She didn’t want to go into that until she was sure she’d found the right Amanda.

“Melissa Voight,” Amanda number two repeated. “Doesn’t sound familiar.”

“You would have known each other in some kind of New Age group,” Rae prompted.

“Then I’m definitely not the person you’re looking for. I’ve got five kids. Even back then, when I only had the twins, I
didn’t have time for anything like that,” Amanda number two told her. “Sorry. Look, I have to go.” She hung up.

One Amanda Reese left to go.
At least one Amanda Reese in Atlanta.
My Amanda Reese could be anywhere by

now.
Rae reached for the phone, but it rang before she could touch it.

“Hello,” Rae said into the receiver.

“I’d like to speak to Erika Keaton,” a muffled voice said.

“Erika Keaton,” Rae repeated, unsure whether she’d heard the name correctly.

“Yes, Er-
i
-ka Kea-ton,” the voice-Rae wasn’tsure if it belonged to a man or a woman-answered. Then Rae heard a
long laugh, a laugh that soared into a screech. “What am I thinking? Of course Erika Keaton isn’t there. Erika
Keaton is dead!”

The receiver clicked down, and the dial tone filled Rae’s ear. She didn’t put down the phone. She was too stunned.

Prank call. Stupid prank call,
she told herself. But how freaky was it that someone made a call like that right when
Rae was trying to find out info about her dead mother?

“Let’s just see who that was,” Rae said. She hit star sixty-nine. But it didn’t go through. They must have been
using a cell.
Or maybe a pay phone,
she thought. They could even have been calling from out of state.

Just go on with what you were doing,
Rae told herself. She dialed the number for Amanda Reese number three. A
girl picked up who didn’t sound any older than Rae.

“Um, I think I have the wrong number. I was trying to track down a friend of my mother’s named Amanda Reese.

They were in a group together about sixteen years ago. But I don’t think you could be her,” Rae said.

“I’m Amanda. But I’m only sixteen now, so…”

“Yeah. Well, thanks,” Rae answered.

“Wait,” Amanda said. “It could be my mom. I was named after her.”

“Is she home? Could I talk to her?” Someone who had a daughter the same age as Rae had at least a chance of
being the right Amanda.

“I… my mom.” Amanda number three cleared her throat, but her voice continued to sound clogged. “My mom died
last year.”

“Oh God. I’m so sorry,” Rae said.

There was something more she wanted to ask. Needed to ask. But how could she?

Rae heard the sound of soft crying. “I hate when I do this,” the girl said. “God, it’s been a year. I should at least be
able to talk about her for two seconds without…”

“It’s okay. I understand.” Rae hesitated a moment longer. “I… I was wondering,” she said carefully. “Could you tell
me how your mother died?”

There was silence for a moment, and Rae wondered if Amanda was even still there.

“She was murdered,” Amanda finally choked out. Then she hung up.

"Anthony?"

Anthony whipped his head around. His little sister, Anna, stood in his doorway. As soon as he saw her, she came in
and made herself comfortable next to him on the bed. “Can we order pizza?” she asked.

“I didn’t say come in,” Anthony muttered.

“I didn’t knock,” Anna answered, giving him her aren’t-I-cute smile.

“Leave.” Anthony rolled over onto his side so he wouldn’t have to look at her. In less than three hours he was
going to be robbing a house. He needed to have his game head by then. He needed to be calm and sharp. He
couldn’t do that dealing with the rug rats.

“But there’s nothing to eat,” Anna whined. “No one ever goes shopping.”

“Fine. Call Domino’s Pizza. There’s money on my dresser,” he answered without turning back toward her.

“What kind should I get?” Anna asked.

“I don’t care,” Anthony told her, his voice coming out harsher than he meant it to. “Get what you want and stay out
of here, okay?”

“Fine.” He heard Anna pawing through the stuff on his dresser, then she left with a door slam.

Give her money for pizza and she gets angry. Great,
Anthony thought. He jerked a piece of the comforter over his
shoulders. If he really wanted it to cover him, he’d have to get up and climb under it, but he didn’t want to move that
much. He just wanted to lie there, maybe even fall asleep for a little while. Yeah. That would make his nerves stop
twitching. Right now it was like he could feel each of them vibrating in his body. He pushed his head deeper into the
pillow and closed his eyes.

The bedroom door opened with a bang. “Anthony, the phone’s not working,” Anna announced.

“I’m asleep,” Anthony mumbled, keeping his body absolutely still.

“He’s not asleep,” another voice said. Carl. Andhis gleeful tone made it clear that the three-year-old thought
Anthony had just invented a new game. Anthony heard a scuffling sound, then Carl landed on top of him.

“Damn it, Carl.” Anthony sat up so fast that he dumped Carl onto the floor. Carl started to cry, those high, gulping
sobs that were like ice picks in Anthony’s ears. He took a look at his little brother, trying to ignore the sounds
coming out of him. No blood. No knots forming on his head. No limbs at strange angles. “You’re fine,” he said. Carl’s
wailing went up a notch. “You’re fine,” Anthony repeated, shouting to be heard over Carl.

“You hurt him,” Anna accused, hands on hips.

“I did not,” Anthony shot back. “And he shouldn’t have jumped on me.” He glared down at Carl. “You shouldn’t
have jumped on me.” Carl howled louder. “You want something to cry about, I’ll give you something to cry about,”

Anthony warned.

The words echoed in his head. It was something… it was probably something his dad would have said.

I’m like him,
Anthony thought.
I really am just like him.
He sprang off the bed. “I’m outta here.” Anna stared up at
him as he stalked by her, looking like she was going to start bawling next. Not his problem. He rushed over to the
couch and snatched up his jacket.

Danny looked up from the TV. “I thought we were getting pizza,” he said, unfazed by the stereo crying of Anna and
Carl.

There probably wasn’t any food in the house, and who knew what time his mother and Tom would come home.

Anthony scanned the room for the cordless phone, spotted it halfway under a chair, and pulled it out. It took him
about two seconds to realize what the problem was-they weren’t allowed to make outgoing calls. And that was
because somebody had forgotten to pay the bill again. His mother and Tom could never agree on who the
somebody was who was supposed to do it, so a lot of the time nobody did. “No phone,” he told Danny.

“Micky D. run!” Danny cried.

“No. I’m going out. Alone,” Anthony added before Danny could start begging to come.

“But what are we supposed to eat?” Danny complained.

“Not my problem,” Anthony answered, ignoring the twinges of guilt flaring up inside him. He took one step toward
the front door. Zack appeared from the hall bathroom.

“I poured a whole bottle of Liquid Plumr down the john, and it’s still clogged,” he said.

“I told you, you have to use the plunger,” Anthony snapped.

“That’s gross,” Zack answered.

“Yeah, well, it’s that or start peeing in the backyard,” Anthony said. Zack started to argue, and Danny joined in.

Anna and Carl were still crying. “Not my problem,” Anthony muttered as he bolted for the door. “Not my friggin’

problem,” he repeated as he slammed the door behind him.

Man, was this how his dad felt when he took off-like if he stayed inside that house one more second, he’d either
suffocate or try to kill everyone in sight?

Anthony cut across the lawn, then hesitated. He could go back. He knew how to deal with the kids. He could calm
them down, even deal with the food and toilet situation and still have some time to himself before he had to meet up
with McGee.