Conjured

His mother stepped onto the porch carrying a tray of sandwiches, enough for six people, but she wasn’t looking at Eve or Zach. She laid the tray on the table next to the lemonade. “It wasn’t supposed to rain today. I’d better pull in the patio chair cushions.” She scurried outside as the first drop of rain hit.

“Whoa,” Zach said.

Rain fell fast. Drops hit the slate patio like bullets.

“Good thing I didn’t think of a tornado,” Zach said.

Eve agreed.

“You’ve never done this before?”

She shook her head, and then she jumped as her pocket buzzed and trilled. She pulled out the cell phone and stared at it as it shook and sang in her hand. Zach reached over and pressed the Talk button. She felt her face flush, and she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”

“Are you safe?” Malcolm asked in her ear.

She looked at Zach. “Yes.” She meant it. With him, she felt completely safe.

“I am coming to fetch you now,” he said. “Stay exactly where you are, keep away from windows, and don’t ever, ever do this again.” She heard a click, and the phone call ended.

“Your aunt?” Zach asked.

She shook her head, staring at the silent phone. She’d never heard Malcolm sound like that, as if he were radiating anger.

“Big black guy with the gun in his sock?”

She nodded.

“Are you in some kind of trouble? I don’t mean only right now. I mean, you look out the window a lot. You’re jumpy. I just … Are you safe?”

She flinched at the repetition of Malcolm’s question, and suddenly she didn’t feel so safe anymore. The porch had windows on three sides. The flowering bushes could be hiding anyone.

Rain pelted outside. Zach’s mother raced toward the porch, holding an array of pillows to her chest. Zach got to his feet. “I’d better help her.”

Eve didn’t move. Rain smacked the roof, loud as a hammer. She’d been stupid to come here, stupid to involve Zach. Zach shielded his head with his arms and ran outside to fetch more chair cushions. His mother dumped her batch of cushions inside and then ran back into the rain.

As they finished, Eve heard the squeal of tires from the front of the house. Seconds later, the doorbell rang. “Oh!” Zach’s mother said. Her makeup ran down her cheeks, and her hair was flattened against her face. Her blouse was plastered to her skin, and her pants were stained with rain. She hurried to the door, poking at her hair to try to fix it. Eve heard the door open. “Yes?”

A deep voice answered in a familiar rumble. Eve stood. Without meeting Zach’s eyes, she walked toward the voice, through the hallway of family photos.

Malcolm towered in the front doorway. Rain streaked his face and plastered his coat to the muscles in his arms. He fixed his eyes on her, but he addressed Zach’s mother.

Behind her, so soft that only Eve could hear, Zach said, “You didn’t answer me. Are you safe?”

Eve didn’t answer. I’m supposed to be, she thought, looking at Malcolm. She thought of Aidan and the hesitation in his voice as he’d answered that question.

“You might want to learn how to lie,” she said at last.

Chapter Ten

Eve ducked into Malcolm’s car. Rain spattered inside and beaded on the dashboard. Outside, it pounded the windshield. As Eve fastened her seat belt, Malcolm slammed her door shut. He then climbed into the driver’s seat, squeezed the steering wheel so hard that she saw the veins in the back of his hands, and started the ignition. Eve watched the muscles in his cheek twitch as he backed out of Zach’s driveway.

“You could yell at me,” she suggested. “Seems to make Aunt Nicki feel better.” She remembered Aunt Nicki shrieking at her once when Eve had tried to fetch the mail alone. Eve tried to identify when that memory was from and couldn’t. One of the lost weeks? If she could reclaim those memories …

He backed onto the street and put the car in drive. Across from Zach’s house, a black SUV pulled up and parked. Twisting in her seat, she watched a man in a suit step out of the car. He was pelted by rain as he strode toward the house. “Who’s that?” she asked. “What does he want with Zach?”

“That’s not your concern.” Malcolm drove, a little too fast, away from Zach’s house through the rain. Puddles sprayed as he hit them.

Yes, it was her concern. It was her fault! She’d brought trouble to Zach, exactly as Patti Langley had warned her—she’d caught him in her storm, both literally and figuratively. “If the agency hurts Zach in any way, I won’t cooperate with the case.”

Malcolm slammed on the brakes. The car squealed to a stop in the middle of the street.

“You don’t make threats.” His voice was quiet. She shrank against her seat. “You don’t know how many have died. You don’t know how they died. They were cut to pieces. Carved like drumsticks from a turkey. And each piece was kept in its own box until the ritual was complete.” He turned back to the road and continued to drive. “You will cooperate, and we will catch him.”