Wraiths of Winter (The Haunting Ruby Series Book 3) (47 page)

Brooke was one of those people who was competitive.
I’m talking
super
competitive.
If Mr. Raspatello asked the
class a question, you could be certain that her hand would be
the first one shooting into the air with the answer. The only
problem was that half of the time, she didn’t even know the
answer or raised her hand before he was even finished with
the question. I noticed a definite pouty expression on her face
every time he praised me for the latest assignment I turned in.
And the day he asked me for my permission to enter one of
my short stories in a contest, she cried. No joke, she walked
out of the room in tears. Crawling to her for help wasn’t going
to be fun.

And apparently, nothing else in my day was going to
be fun either. Lucas joined me for lunch but we barely spoke
a word. His mind seemed to be preoccupied with something
he didn’t want to discuss. But then again, so was mine. I
didn’t get much sleep the night before and I highly doubted
that he did either.
On a normal day, I would have been
counting down the seconds until it was time to go home but
not today. Today, I simply didn’t want to be anywhere.

Shelly retrieved me from school in the same mood she
was in when she dropped me off—solemn and silent. True to
his word, when I got to my room I saw that my dad had
removed every door in the attic and fixed the wall in my
closet. Even though there was nothing technically holding me
in, something about it made me feel like a prisoner.
I was
simply miserable so I decided to write since it was the only
thing that seemed to make me feel better on crappy days like
this one. Then I realized that my dad had my laptop. So I took
a few minutes to count how many days were left until I turned
18 and marked my calendar accordingly. 109 days to go until
I could legally leave this house and never look back. Not that I
had anywhere else to go or anything, but just knowing that it
was
an option gave me
something
to look forward to—
assuming that I lived long enough to see my birthday.

If I’d had my car, I would have driven to the police
station to see if there were any new leads on Crimson’s
disappearance. If I’d had my phone, I would have at least
called the station. But I had neither. The only link I had to the
outside world from
my
open-door cell was
television.
I
changed into some sweats and fuzzy socks and plopped my
depressed ass down onto the futon. I switched to the local
channel and watched old sitcom re-runs until the news came
on.

Even though I assumed that details about kidnapping
and murder would be their number one priority, I watched
countless mind numbing segments in the hopes that maybe
what I was looking for was still to come.
Local sports, the
daily recipe, and seven day weather forecast scrolled by on
my screen but i barely paid any attention. Finally, something
did
actually catch my eye.

The
focus
of the
entertainment
segment
was
an
interview with Jonas regarding the reopening of the Bantam
Theater. Just like the day I accidentally snapped a photo from
Rachel’s phone, the theater on the screen
looked much
different than it did to me in real life.
It was fascinating to
finally see what everyone else thought was so beautiful about
that place.
remodeled.
The interior was pristine, every fixture newly
I could see so much more detail than I could

when I was actually there. As the camera panned up to the
balcony, I couldn’t help but notice that there was something
very weird, something very off about it but I couldn’t figure
out exactly what it was.

I got down on the floor right in front of the TV in
anticipation of another close up. The interview lasted for a
few more minutes and the whole time I was on pins and
needles waiting for the balcony to come into view again.
When the segment ended without another clear view of it, I
scampered back to the futon and grabbed the remote. I hit
rewind on the
DVR until I found the
screenshot I was
interested in. With the TV freeze framed, I scrutinized every
inch of the balcony but still couldn’t figure out what looked
different about it. With my attention so focused on trying to
pick out what exactly was catching my eye, I nearly jumped
out of my skin when Shelly popped her head in the doorway
and announced that dinner was ready. I gave her a quick nod
then set a recording for the eleven o’clock news. If they
replayed that interview, I didn’t want to miss it.

After a long silent meal with my jailers, I went back
upstairs and focused on doing my homework. Make that
tried
to focus.
Now that the main door to the attic was gone, I
twitched with every tiny sound I heard. I never really felt safe
in the first place but I felt even less so now. If Jackson wanted
to kidnap me, I was an easy target.
Allison, Crimson, and
Portia were in public places when they were abducted—I was
praying that he wasn’t bold enough to change his MO now.

I tried very hard to stay awake for the news but never
even
made it close.
With no outside contact, boredom
overtook me and I was out like a light by 10. Given all the
circumstances, it’s no wonder I had a very strange dream that
night.

I dreamed that I was on the snowy banks of a half
frozen river bed.
While the surface was covered by a thin
sheet of ice, I could see that the water near the bottom was
still moving sluggishly downstream.
The trees were bare of
any leaves but each branch sparkled with a bright icy sheen.
It was a place of beauty and serenity where even the biting
chill of winter couldn’t seem to touch me.

As I followed the winding swath cut by the river, I saw
something moving in the distance. It was something white on
the opposite bank that was barely discernible against the
snowy
backdrop and
it
was
swiftly heading
my
way.
I
increased the speed of my gait, desperate to get a closer look
at what it was. My feet crunched through the snow and my
breath cast an icy trail behind me as I broke into a full run.
When I could finally make out what it was, I gasped at the
sight of its beauty.

It was a dog.
A dog with a coat as white as the
dazzling landscape. The animal came to rest directly across
the river from me and lifted one paw as though to greet me. I
raised my hand in acknowledgement because even though it
was just a dog, it
wasn’t
. There was something special about
this particular beast.
There was an air of recognition, of
intelligent cognizance in the way it looked at me.
It felt like I
was greeting an old friend, someone who knew me well but
whose name I couldn’t quite place.
As I stood there trying to
figure out where I’d seen the dog before, he abruptly took a
step forward toward the river.

“Stay!” I shouted in hopes that he was familiar with
basic commands.
The surface of the river appeared strong
enough to hold his weight but if I was wrong, he would plunge
into the frigid water and I wouldn’t be able to help him back
out.

Obediently, the dog settled back into his original spot
but began to prance agitatedly in place. Restlessly, he spun
around in a circle, swishing his fluffy tail through the snow as
he twirled.
He wanted to be on the other side of the river
with me and I would have given anything to have him by my
side, too. Everything but his life, that is.

Once again, the dog attempted to cross the icy flow.
He placed one massive paw onto the frozen surface and I
hurled another sharp command at him.

He looked into my eyes like he couldn’t understand
why I didn’t want him and let out a mournful howl to rival
that of any wolf. It broke my heart to see him like that—it
broke my heart because I knew I was breaking his. Unable to
bear being near him any longer, I turned and walked away
from the water and my canine friend.
He followed me the
only
way
he
knew how—the sound of his
cries
echoed
through the forest as I left him behind.

I woke up feeling sad. Not because of the million and
one real reasons I had to actually be depressed—no, I woke
up sad because of the dream. It wasn’t exactly a nightmare
but it left an awful feeling in my heart that I wasn’t able to
shake.
I needed to have a good day for a change, one that
made me feel that getting out of bed and venturing out into
the world was a wise decision for once.
Unfortunately, my
day started out the same as every other one had for the last
few months. Crappy.

Another heaping helping of the silent treatment for
breakfast led to me to not even want to talk to anyone when I
got to school either. When Zach said good morning, I replied
with, “What’s so good about it?’ and just walked away from
him. He sent the text to my dad and that one act snowballed
into my current situation.
He may feel good about the fact
that I wasn’t allowed to spend time with Lucas now either but
I certainly didn’t. He may not have lost his temper with Lucas
but his jealousy caused just as much harm as it did the day he
beat up Ryan.

When Rachel jumped out of her seat excitedly at the
sight of me, I almost walked back out of our homeroom door.
Simply put, I was in a bad mood and I kind of wanted to stay
that way.
From experience, though, I knew that she would
follow me down the hallway and tackle me with good cheer so
I gave her a weak smile and proceeded to my seat.

On a good day, her bubbly charm was infectious. On a
bad one, however, it felt more like a raging infection. I didn’t
want to be cheered up.
I wanted to pop a healthy dose of
antibiotics that would make the cheerfulness that was trying
to seep into me go away for good.

It wasn’t the right time or place for me to explain
everything that was wrong.
mood was
probably
grossly
And since I figured her good
exaggerated in
proportion
to

whatever had her so excited in the first place, I simply said
nothing. I wasn’t going to get my hopes up over something
that would turn out to be trivial and have no bearing on my
current
situation.
As
always, my
refusal to answer her
question went unnoticed and she plunged directly into the
source of her happiness. This time, I was glad she did.

“Ruby, Jackson’s in jail for kidnapping and murder—
why aren’t you doing the happy dance with me? Drake’s off
the hook and as soon as they get that nasty old creeper to talk,
they’ll know where to find Crimson. And of course you know
what
that
means, don’t you? You never have to set foot in the
Bantam Theater ever again!”

“What!?” I exclaimed in disbelief. “How? When?
Quick, girl, I need details!” Zach was right—it really
was
a
good morning.

“Well, the police tracked those packages you received
back to a delivery
service downtown.
The
clerk there
remembered exactly
who sent
them
and
gave a detailed
description of Jackson. They took him into custody around
eight o’clock last night. How did you not know about it?”

And how could
she
forget that I was stranded on
Rosewood Island with barely any connection to the outside
world? It figures—the one night I fell asleep early, I missed
something this big.
Luckily, I recorded the news last night
and could watch it the second I got home. I was a bit peeved
that she didn’t find a way to tell me last night but I suppose
given the circumstances, she was
concentrating
more on
Jackson’s arrest than my incarceration.
Briefly, I reminded
her of my current state of lockdown.

“Oh, I totally forgot that you didn’t have a phone. Or
the internet.
Or a life.
But hey, maybe this is the start of
better days for all of us, you know? This
is
Valentine’s Week
after all.
Time for romance to start blossoming all around us.
Drake and Crimson can pick up where they left off. Boone and
I can go back to enjoying our time together.
You and Zach
can…” she trailed off awkwardly.

“We can what?” I asked, slightly afraid of her
response. Things didn’t feel the same between Zach and me
but I’d been hoping maybe all of it was in my head.
I was
wrong—Rachel could either feel it too or worse yet, she knew
something I didn’t know. Maybe Zach didn’t actually forget
about Valentine’s Day—maybe he was ignoring it on purpose.

Rachel began to nervously twirl her hair between her
fingers. She didn’t want to answer me—I could see it written
all over her face. And at this point, I didn’t
want
her to
respond.
She just gave me excellent news and I wanted to
savor that happy feeling for as long as I possibly could. Happy
feelings weren’t so easy to come by for me so I changed the
subject.

“I imagine that news of Jackson’s arrest made front
page of the Courier today. I’ll have to make Shelly stop off
somewhere for a copy on our way home. Maybe once they
see that I wasn’t lying to them about the other night they’ll
reduce my sentence.”

Rachel relaxed and let her hair drop casually between
her fingers. “Well, I certainly hope so. Do you think they
would mind if I came over to visit tonight?
I could really use
some help with my lines for the play.
Lucas always tells me
he’s too busy to help and Zach wants absolutely nothing to do
with this play. If Shelly says it’s okay, will you help me
rehearse?”