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father, when I heard low voices coming from Jude's bedroom. I could make out Jude's somber
voice and April's cocker spaniel-like yips of reassurance. I clutched my bundle to my chest and
inched toward Jude's door.
"It's not fair," I heard him say.
"Why?" April asked.
"You don't understand. They don't understand." Jude's voice went lower. "How can they not see
what he's doing?"
April said something I couldn't make out.
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"It's wrong. He's wrong. Everything about him is wrong," Jude said. "I'm the good one. I'm the
one who does everything this family needs. I'm the one who is here every day for them, and now
he's back for a few hours, and they believe him over me. Dad and Grace act like he's some kind
of hero." His voice twanged. "How can Dad believe him, after what he did?"
"What?" April asked. "What did he do?"
Jude sighed.
Any pang of guilt I felt for eavesdropping was overpowered by my desire to hear the answer to
that question--and by burning jealousy that he might tell April the thing he'd refused tell me for
three years.
Jude whispered something, and I leaned in closer to hear.
"Grace!" Mom shouted down the stairs. "Make sure you use stain spray."
I jumped back from the door and dropped my bundle. Jude's voice cut off, followed by shifting
noises behind his door. I gathered up my clothes and hurried off to the laundry room.
LATER THAT NIGHT
Daniel was gone by the time I made it outside. He wasn't in the back or the front yard. Neither
was Dad. It had been only about fifteen minutes since I'd seen them through the bathroom
window, so I decided to take a
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car and track Daniel down at his apartment--catch him with my questions before he could skip
town--but no keys were on the hooks. Dad kept the truck at the parish, and Jude must have still
had the van keys. But strangely, the Corolla was not in the garage.
I resigned myself to the fact that any more searching would be futile, and decided to help Mom
and Don Mooney clean up the dining room.
I wasn't surprised Don had stuck around. He'd probably ask to move into Jude's room when my
brother went off to college next year. However, Don's idea of "cleaning" involved eating the
food off of people's forgotten plates.
I reached for the half-empty goblet in front of him.
Don stopped picking at the Band-Aids on his arm and gave me a huge turkey-in-his-teeth grin.
"You look real pretty tonight, Miss Grace."
I fingered my wet curls and wondered if I'd gained a new admirer for sticking up for him with
my father the other day. "Thanks, Don," I mumbled, and picked up the goblet.
"You were real brave, too," he said, "going into the woods to find your brother. I wish I'd been
there. I'd have protected you from the monster. My granddaddy told me how. He was a real
hero." Don rubbed his injured arm against his chest.
I smiled. But then I thought of the jumbled contents of my father's office. Mom had taken a load
of dishes
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into the kitchen, hut I lowered my voice just in case. "Don, while everyone was searching for
James, did you go into the study?"
His eyes shifted sideways. "I ... I ... was just lookin' for something. I didn't mean to make such a
mess. Everyone came back inside before I could clean up." He rocked in his chair like he was
about to bolt.
Relief washed over me. "It's okay, Don." I smiled at him. "I won't tell anybody. But you really
should put the knife back."
Don lowered his droopy eyelids. "Yes, Miss Grace."
Mom came back and noticed me fumbling her china plates with my bandaged hand and sent me
off to bed. I went without protest, even though I didn't have much hope for sleeping--or much
hope for anything else. Mom was upset with me for inviting Daniel over; Dad's roller coaster of
despair had hit maximum velocity; my older brother was on the verge of a breakdown of his
own; and Daniel was most likely gone. But at least I knew where that knife was. And it hadn't
been stolen by some sinister intruder.
Strange--that was the first time I'd ever thought of Don as harmless.
I lay on top of my bed, my mind racing with all of the strange things that had happened during
the day, until the house grew dark and silent. It felt like hours had passed since I heard Don make
his loud good-byes. I was still in my clothes, so I decided to get up and
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change. I pulled off my overalls and shirt and found my most comfortable pair of pajamas. White
flannel dotted with little yellow rubber duckies. I was standing in my flannel pants and pink bra
when I heard a tapping noise behind me.
I turned and saw a dark silhouette outside my second-story window. I jumped and almost
screamed. Images of the study's bloodstained windowsill ripped through my mind.
"Grace," came a muffled voice through the glass. The shadow moved closer to the window. It
was Daniel.
Embarrassment replaced fear. I crossed my tingling arms in front of my chest--not that I had
much to hide, but still. I turned my back to him and grabbed my terry-cloth robe. It was still
damp from my shower, but I pulled it on anyway. I went to the window and pushed it open.
"What are you doing here?"
Daniel balanced on the sloping roof outside my room. "I promised we'd talk." He stared at me
through the thin mesh screen. "Can I come in?"
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Chapter Thirteen Hounds of heaven
ROOFTOPS
Heat flushed up my arms and chest. Fm sure I went as pink as my bra. I pulled my robe tighter
around me. "I ... I can't let you in."
Mom hadn't made me promise, but I felt like I should respect her wishes not to invite Daniel in
the house again. It was the least I could do for her now.
"Then you'll have to come out." With a flick of his hand, he pushed the screen out of my
window. It landed at my feet, looking perfectly untouched. Not mangled and broken like the time
Jude had shimmied the screen out of the study's window just below us. "Come on." He reached
for me through the window frame.
Before I could even think, I put my hand in his. He pulled me up and out and into his arms. He
held me to him, his fingers twisting with the sash of my robe against my back.
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"I thought you were gone," I whispered.
"A promise is a promise." His breath warmed my damp hair. He grasped both of my hands and
lowered me to sit next to him on the narrow eave of the roof. He wore jeans now and the
red-and-black coat I'd given him. He hadn't had it with him when he showed up earlier for
dinner.
My robe wasn't as warm as a coat, and my feet were bare, but I didn't mind. "I'm glad you came
back."
Daniel grinned. It was an almost-grimacing smile-- pained. That's when I noticed, in the dim
light from my bedroom, the purplish-green bruise across his cheekbone.
"You're hurt." I touched his face. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]