The Dead List (9 page)

Because I was so not going back into that bedroom with that thing in there. On second thought, I never wanted to go back in there and touch anything he’d had his hands on.

The cop shifted his weight. “There was no mask on the bed, nothing, and the bedroom window was closed. There’s no evidence that anyone was in the house.”

It took a few moments for what he said to sink through, and then I understood the look on Mom’s face and the reason why the officers looked so uncomfortable. “No.” And then I said it again. “
No
.”

“These things are common after traumatic events,” The officer who’d remained outside turned to my mom, speaking quietly. “Stress can do some strange things, make people believe that you’ve seen something not there.”

I zoned them out as I turned back to the house. There was no way I was so stressed out that I imagined
all
of that. I wasn’t crazy.

Red-hot anger bubbled up inside me, and I was walking toward my house before I even knew what I was doing.

“Ella!” Mom called out.

I ignored her and took the porch steps two at a time. I threw open the storm door and rushed up the stairs. I didn’t stop until I reached my bedroom and I stood in the doorway, breathing heavy.

The window was closed.

The bathroom door was open as were the closet doors. My gaze shifted to the bed and another wave of anger burst like a firecracker, a mixture of humiliation and frustration.

My Care Bear sat on the pillows, minus the creepy clown mask and note.

The cops probably thought I was crazy. So did my mom. But there was no way I could’ve imagined all of that.

I crossed the bedroom, tugging the curtains back. The window was down. There was no lock on it, so it was entirely possibly that he’d bolted once I ran screaming from the room, taking the mask with him, and closed the window behind him. Getting up or down wasn’t hard. The tree was right up against the roof, and I knew that was possible. It had been done over and over before.

But why?

Did he plan on grabbing me or… or just scaring me? And, if he wanted to scare me, what for? I was already scared.

I was terrified.

“Baby.”

Turning at the sound of her voice, I drew in a shallow breath. She came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. “How could I’ve imagined that? I
saw
the mask on my bed. And I read the note. I
felt
the breeze from the open window. I
heard
my bathroom door move. How can you hallucinate all of that?”

“I don’t think you hallucinated anything.”

I folded my arms across my chest. “Then you believe me.”

She lowered her gaze as she patted the spot next to her. Reluctant, I made my way over and sat beside her. “I believe you think you saw something. I heard the fear in your voice, but…”

I scanned the room. Nothing was out of place that I saw.

“But I do think it’s a good idea if I call Dr. Oliver tomorrow,” she continued, smiling gently when I turned a sharp look on her. “I think you need to talk to him.”

“I don’t need to talk to him.” I locked up.

She smoothed her hand through my hair. “All I’m saying is that it wouldn’t hurt to see Dr. Oliver. You haven’t been to him in a while.”

My lips pressed into a thin line.

“Ella, baby, you’ve been through a horrific event.” She reached down, pulling my arm away from my body. She threaded her fingers through mine. “And you’re going to have some leftover… issues from that. Look at it this way. You’re taking self-defense, right? Consider talking to Dr. Oliver as another lesson.”

More like a lesson in feeling like a maladjusted teenager. Dr. Oliver wasn’t bad or anything, but I’d always left his office feeling like I needed Valium or something.

“Okay,” I whispered, not liking it, but also knowing there was no other way out of it.

Mom nodded as she squeezed my hand. “How was your lesson today? Did you learn anything?”

I welcomed the change in subject as I eyed the bedroom, waiting for some creep to appear out of thin air. “Yeah. You’re not going to believe who’s teaching it.”

“Who?”

“Jensen Carver.”

Mom blinked slowly. Of course she knew him. Mom had been like a… like a second mother to Jensen growing up. Just like Jensen’s mom had helped raise me.

“Really,” she said finally, like that was the only thing she could say in response.

At least that brought a wry grin to my face. “Yeah. I was surprised he agreed to do it, but he said he’d teach me, so…”

Mom reached over, pulling my free hand away from my hair. “I think that will be good. You know, for you two to reconnect.”

My stomach did a weird little flip at the thought of
reconnecting
.

Creases appeared in her brow. “But doesn’t he play football?”

“Not anymore.”

“Hmm,” she murmured. “How is Jensen doing?”

I shrugged. Mom knew we hadn’t talked. Not since seventh grade, around the time Jensen grew into his long limbs and those beautiful lips. Overnight, he’d become popular and I remained… well, painfully average. And that was before he moved away.

A lot had happened before he moved away.

She shook her head. “Every time I think of him, I think of his brother. What was his name?”

An ache pierced my chest at the mention of Jensen’s older brother, someone I hadn’t thought of in a very long time. “His name was Jonathan.”

“Such a tragedy.” Mom sighed sadly. “For a young man like that to just die in his sleep. I feel so terrible for him and his parents.”

Pressing my lips together, I nodded. Jonathan had been five years older than Jensen. The two had been close. At least they had been when we were… friends. A lifetime ago. I’d heard that his brother had been home from college when he’d died in his….

My eyes widened as I realized why Jensen wanted to go to the University of Maryland. Or at least I thought I did. That was where Jonathan had been going to school. Was Jensen following in his brother’s footsteps as some way to honor his memory? If so, that was…. God, I didn’t even know and I had no idea what to do with that piece of information.

“This town has seen enough tragedy,” she said.

I froze again. Was she going to talk about
it
? No one ever talked about
it
anymore, but before she could continue, the doorbell clanged throughout the house, causing me to jump.

Mom frowned as she rose. “Probably one of our nosey neighbors.”

When she left the room, I was alone and still too creeped out to sit in here. Hopping to my feet, I made it to the door when Mom called for me. I stopped at the top of the stairs. She was at the bottom, an odd little smile on her face.

“What?” I asked.

“It’s for you.” And that’s all she said.

Having no idea who it could be, I came down the stairs. If it was Linds, Mom would’ve just let her upstairs. Even Gavin. The fluttering was back in my chest as I hurried up, practically hopping down the steps.

I passed Mom, shooting her a look when she all but pranced from the room. Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and my suspicions—or hope, but whatever—were confirmed.

Jensen stood on my porch, dressed as he was earlier, wearing nylon pants and the cotton shirt. Our eyes locked, and I swore some kind of unseen tension eased from his stare.

“You’re okay.”

Glancing behind me, I saw the top of Mom’s head poking out from around the living room. I stepped outside, closing the door behind me. “I’m okay.”

Jensen stared at me like he was trying to see something not easily visible. “I just got home, and Dad said there was a bunch of police cars here.”

“And you came to check it out?”

An eyebrow arched up. “Uh, yeah. I’m here.”

I flushed because that was a stupid question. “Everything’s fine. They were just… um, checking out the house.”

A look of doubt crossed his striking face. “But you’re okay?”

Earlier, when I mentioned how many times I’d been asked that question, I didn’t think I could stand being asked one more time, but for some reason, it didn’t irritate me now. “I’m really fine.”

His eyes met mine again, and as we stood there, I could clearly remember the last time he’d been on my porch. It was the night, the first time, I’d told him I never wanted to talk to him again. Tears had streamed down my face, and I’d been so angry and so embarrassed.

And so heartbroken.

Jensen opened his mouth as if he was about to say something, and then he tilted his head to the side, causing a wavy strand of hair to topple across his forehead. “You know that number Ms. Reed had given you?”

I nodded.

“That’s my phone number,” he said. “Do me a favor and save it on your phone. If you need anything, call me. All right?”

The note was burning a hole in my jean pocket that very moment. “Sure.”

He held my stare a moment longer, then nodded and pivoted around with the kind of grace I’d never have. He got to the pathway before I stopped him.

“Jensen.”

He turned, head inclined to the side again. Standing in the dark with only the moonlight slicing over broad cheekbones and a cut jaw, he looked like some kind of fairy tale prince come alive.

Oh God, I had no idea why I was comparing him to a Disney prince or stopping him. I needed to stop reading so much. But I wanted to invite him inside, and I wanted to sit next to him. And I wanted to somehow reclaim the missing years between us.

And he’d make a really hot Disney prince, too.

But I couldn’t say any of that, so I latched onto the first thing that popped into my head. “The reason why you want to go to the University of Maryland… is it because of your brother?”

Jensen rubbed his hand across his chest. “Wow. That was a random question.”

“Yeah, it kind of was.” I raised my hands and shrugged. “Probably also none of my business, so you don’t—”

“Yeah, it is.” He lowered his hand, and a tight, one-sided smile appeared. “He couldn’t finish college, so I thought I’d do it for him.”

“That’s… that’s really nice.” I wish I had something better to say. “I mean it, Jensen. That’s really a good way of… honoring him.”

He nodded slowly. “Yeah… I’ve got to get back, but I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Once again, I found myself waving at him awkwardly. I watched him disappear around the tall hedges, hanging a right toward his house.

“Interesting,” Mom said the moment I stepped foot back in the house. “And might I add that Jensen has turned into one fine looking young man?”

“Ew. Mom.”

She shrugged. “I may be old, but I am not blind.”

I ignored that as I climbed the stairs, and it wasn’t until much later, when I was lying in my bed, clutching the stupid bear to my chest as I stared at the closed window, that the thought from earlier—the one about the tree and roof—popped back in my head.

There was a reason why I knew anyone could climb that tree and make the jump to the roof. After all, it had been done so many times in the past I’d lost count.

When I was younger and it was way past our bedtime, but we wanted to hang out, Jensen would sneak out of his house and scale the tree like a little monkey. He’d land on the roof and shuffle right up to my window.

He’d taught me how to do it.

He’d also taught Gavin.

And he’d taught
Penn
.

“I don’t know about this,” Penn called out. His thin arms were practically glued to the truck of the tree that was at least five sizes wider than him. “I don’t think that limb is strong enough.”

Gavin groaned from where he stood at my bedroom window. “Dude, Jensen and I both just walked on it, and we’re bigger than you.”

“Everyone is bigger than me,” Penn shot back. “But that doesn’t mean it won’t break.”

I poked my head out the window. “The tree’s been there longer than this house. It’s not going to break.”

“How do you know its been here longer than the house?” he challenged. “Did you count the tree’s whorls?”

“The what?” replied Gavin, his forehead wrinkling.

Penn shook his head. “It’s the whorls on the tree truck.”

“Who knows that?” he retorted. “No wonder you get picked on, dude. Seriously.”

I smacked Gavin’s arm even though Penn appeared largely unfazed by the comment. Behind us, my bedsprings creaked. I glanced over my shoulder. Jensen was standing, all long limbs and hair.

“I knew what whorls are,” Jensen said, crossing my bedroom and joining Gavin on the other side. He waved at Penn. “Do exactly what I showed you. It worked for Gavin.”

Penn glanced down.

“Don’t do that,” Jensen ordered. “Don’t look at the ground. Look at us.” When Penn lifted his gaze, Jensen nodded. “Just pretend… I don’t know, that you’re walking to your telescope or something.”

“I wouldn’t put my telescope on a branch or a roof.”

I smiled.

Gavin sighed. “Look, I’ll come out on the roof.” He reached up, gripping the top of the window as he put a knee on the windowsill. The moment his head hit the sun, his hair turn a burnt reddish color. “Does that make you feel bette?”

“No! I don’t trust you!”

Gavin froze.

“I mean, if I fall, you aren’t going to be able to stop me,” Penn added. “You’re not much bigger than me.”

“Geez. Thanks.” Gavin glanced back at us. His eyes were wide and the center of his cheeks pink. “Did you guys hear that?”

I smashed my hand over my mouth to stop from giggling.

Jensen grinned at me before he shouldered Gavin out of the way. He placed one hand on the windowsill and hopped up into the opening, agile like the neighbor’s cat. He dipped through the window and then straightened once he was on the shingled roof.

Biting my lip I watched Jensen tread carefully toward the edge of the roof, where the thickest branches met the spouting. “Gosh, I really hope my mom doesn’t come home soon. If she looks up and sees Jensen and Penn, she’ll die.”

Gavin nodded. “You’re going to be in so much trouble.”

“It’s all Jensen’s fault,” I reasoned. “He started this.”