Read Dead Is Just a Rumor Page 5


  The driveway was pockmarked with ruts and Sam decided to park a way down the lane and walk. Her peppy little VW convertible wasn't meant for four-wheeling.

  "Just wait until you see it," Samantha said. "You're just going to die!"

  We rounded the bend and the house came into view. I suppressed a gasp.

  "It's criminal that someone let a house as beautiful as this go."

  "The structure is still sound," Sam assured me. "Mrs. Wilder wouldn't agree to let us use it until she had it inspected."

  "Mrs. Wilder owns this house, too?" Merriweather House was almost as large as the Wilder place.

  Sam shrugged. "I dunno," she said. "All I know is it has something to do with her sister."

  There were several women from Mom's garden club scrubbing down the front hallway. I didn't expect my grandma to be one of them. My normally elegant grandmother wore faded bib overalls, the same bright purple T-shirt as the other volunteers, and her hair was protected by a matching purple scarf.

  "Daisy!" Grandma Giordano said. "I'm so glad you're getting into the volunteer spirit."

  "Hi, Grandma," I said. "I didn't expect to see you here. You remember my friend Samantha?"

  "Of course," Grandma Giordano said. "How are you, my dear?"

  "Fine, thanks," Sam said. "I really appreciate you helping out."

  "Where should we set up the snacks?" I said.

  "We've already cleaned most of the front parlor," my grandmother said.

  "Perfect," Samantha said. She grabbed the cooler and led the way.

  The front parlor was full of heavy wood furniture, a red velvet sofa, and a sea of purple T-shirts.

  "I finally thought of a theme for the ball," Samantha said excitedly. "A typical Halloween costume party might be ... tricky in Nightshade."

  "So what did you come up with?" I asked her.

  "Nightshade through the ages. It's going to be a costume ball, but everyone has to dress up as someone from Nightshade's history."

  "That's a great idea," I said, already worrying about what I would wear.

  Samantha picked up immediately on my anxiety. "Don't worry," she said. "I'll help you find something great to wear to the ball."

  "Thanks," I said. "You know I rely on you for fashion advice."

  "I'm thinking vintage," she replied. "Same for this place. Each room off the ballroom will represent a different era. We'll make this the Victorian room."

  "Cool idea," I said. "I'm going to work with my grandmother for a while, if that's okay?"

  "Sure," she said. "I need to check out the progress in the ballroom."

  After Sam left, Grandma handed me a soft cloth and furniture polish.

  "We've cleaned the floors and the walls," she said. "Now we need to tackle the furniture."

  "This house is in pretty good shape," I commented to Grandma.

  "Mrs. Wilder hired a caretaker several years ago," Grandma said. "He keeps an eye on the place and does the major repairs."

  "Why would she do that?" I asked, curious.

  "Haven't you heard the story?" Grandma said. "Well, I guess it was way before your time. Mrs. Wilder's sister, Lily, was engaged to the fellow who owned Merriweather House."

  Lily ...Why did that name ring a bell? I remembered the portrait I'd seen at the Wilders'. "What happened?"

  "Her sister disappeared the night they announced their engagement."

  "What happened to the fiancé?" I asked.

  "Nobody knows," Grandma said. "At first, everyone thought they'd eloped, but when no one heard from them, the family hired a private detective. The detective never found them." She pointed to a portrait hanging over the mantel. "That's him there."

  I crossed the room for a better look. The portrait was covered in dust. I carefully wiped it away with a soft cloth. "He's handsome," I said.

  "Bam Merriweather had the reputation as quite the lady's man until he met Lily," Grandma said.

  "What kind of a name is Bam?" I wondered.

  Grandma shrugged. "A nickname, I'm sure," she said. "Now that I think about it, I never heard him called by his given name."

  "What was Lily's last name? Mrs. Wilder's maiden name?"

  "Varcol, I think," she said. "They were head over heels in love. He broke quite a few hearts when the engagement was announced."

  "And I always thought that Mrs. Wilder must have the best life," I said.

  "Just because she is wealthy doesn't mean she's had it easy," Grandma rebuked me gently.

  "Do you remember anything else?" I asked.

  Grandma shook her head.

  "I wish I could help," I said impulsively.

  "After all this time, I don't know if it's wise to open old wounds," she said.

  "Maybe," I said. "But if your sister disappeared, wouldn't you want to know what happened? Even after all this time?"

  Grandma admitted, "If it were me, I'd want to know, no matter how many years had passed."

  We cleaned in silence, but I couldn't get my mind off the tragic story. I decided to go find Samantha and let her know I wanted to snoop around a bit.

  "Grandma, which way is the ballroom?" I asked.

  "Down that hall," she said, pointing to the left. "But the second and third floors are off-limits."

  But when I passed a staircase, I noticed a blond woman in a purple T-shirt on the second floor. There was something surreptitious about the way she moved along the galley.

  "Excuse me," I said to her, but she ignored me and kept moving.

  I paused indecisively. Should I go after her or get Sam? The woman returned a few minutes later and started down the stairs.

  "We're not supposed to be on the upper floors," I called out to her.

  Samantha walked in as I was confronting the stranger. "Daisy, I see you've met Ms. Tray," she said.

  I gaped at her. "Ms. Tray?"

  "Our new guidance counselor," she said.

  "Oh, I'm sorry I yelled at you," I finally said. "But I was told we aren't supposed to be on the second floor."

  "Darlin'," she said, with a thick southern accent. "You must be mistaken. I wasn't on the second floor."

  She looked at me like I was completely crazy. If it wasn't her, then who could it have been? Had I seen a ghost? Then I noticed the footprints in the dusty stairs. She had been upstairs. I wasn't crazy.

  We continued our conversation, but my brain was busily dealing with the fact that the new guidance counselor had lied, right to my face.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  My first cooking lesson did not go well. First of all, I was ten minutes late. Poppy had disappeared with the car and there was nobody else home, not even Dad. Finally, in desperation, I noticed that Sean's car was in his driveway and rang his doorbell.

  "I need a big favor," I said. His little sister Katie peeked out from behind him.

  Five minutes later, Katie, Sean, and I were on our way to the Wilder estate.

  "I really appreciate this," I said to Sean. Katie was playing with a hand-held video game in the back seat.

  "No problem," he said. "But I don't actually have to see that Circe woman, do I? She freaks me out."

  "No, she'll be in the kitchen," I assured him. "But why does she freak you out?"

  "I've heard stories," Sean said. "There's this friend of my dad's who used to work for her cooking show. He says she plays dirty."

  "What did he mean by that?" I asked.

  Sean shrugged. "Not sure, but I wouldn't trust her if I were you, Daisy."

  He dropped me off at the front and then took off slowly. I'd never noticed before, but Sean drov every carefully when his little sister was in the car.

  I also noticed Penny Edwards, hunched down in the front seat of her parked car and glaring at me. I figured she must be here to work on decorations with Sam and the rest of the volunteers. I wondered why she was giving me such a dirty look. Could she still be mad about the jelly donut incident last week?

  I didn't have time to ponder Penny's problem for long. I
looked at my watch and took a shortcut through the garden steering clear of the maze. It still gave me the creeps, even in the daylight.

  I entered the kitchen, out of breath.

  "You are late," Circe said. She didn't look up from her mixing bowl.

  Did someone leave the refrigerator door open? Because there was definitely cold air blowing from somewhere.

  "I'm sorry," I said. "My sister took the car and..."

  She finally looked up. Her eyes were glowing green. Witchy eyes. I sensed danger, but I couldn't look away.

  "It won't happen again," she stated.

  "It won't happen again," I parroted. I tried to move, but I was frozen there.

  She smiled. "Good."

  The ice in my spine dissipated and I was able to move. I took one faltering step and then another until I reached her side.

  "What are you working on?" My mouth felt stiff as I spoke.

  "A new truffle sauce recipe," she replied.

  Personally, I thought truffles smelled like old socks soaked in vinegar, but they seemed to be popular with the customers at Wilder's.

  Still, the idea was to learn a little more sophisticated method of cooking, so I kept quiet about my doubts and watched her carefully.

  She took something out of her pocket and sprinkled it into the pan. A strange aroma filled the kitchen.

  "Is that a new herb?" I asked her. "I've never smelled anything like it before."

  "It's ... my own blend," she said. "A Circe Silvertongue secret."

  That was a secret she could keep. It smelled horrible. At least at first. A few minutes later, the smell of the sauce bubbling on the stove was making my mouth water.

  "Can I have a taste?" I said eagerly.

  She gave me a long measuring look. "Not yet," she decided. "Maybe someday."

  She went to the walk-in refrigerator and returned with a small container of white rice. She scooped some of the rice into a doggie bowl and then poured the sauce over it.

  "Balthazar," she cooed. "Mommy has something for you."

  Balthazar ran up and ate his meal eagerly. When he had finished, he went obediently back to Circe's office.

  The rest of my "cooking" lesson consisted of me scrubbing the pots and pans she'd left soaking in the sink. I thought about protesting, but one look from Circe's green eyes changed my mind.

  When I was finally finished, I texted Poppy to pick me up "or else" and waited in the break room. About ten minutes later, she sent me a message that she was in the Wilder's parking lot.

  It was dark, but I cut through the patio anyway. The restaurant was empty of customers, but the French doors were still open. I heard Bianca's raised voice and stopped.

  "You can't do this," she said. "I won't let you."

  "You can't stop me," Circe replied. "I can't let the information..."

  They moved out of my hearing. I tried some psychic eavesdropping, but I didn't pick up anything else, except that one of the busboys had a crush on Samantha. Big surprise. So did half the senior class.

  I walked to the parking lot, wondering the whole time what Circe and Bianca were arguing about.

  When I got in the car, Poppy rolled the windows down. "You smell like you've been rolling in a pig pen," she said.

  "I've been working," I said. She could be such a pain in the butt sometimes. The next minute, she made up for it. She handed me a big cup of coffee.

  "You are the best sister in the world," I declared. I sipped it and then told Poppy about the weird experience I'd had with Circe.

  "She has a pet pig?" Poppy asked.

  "That's not the weird part." I told her about the blast of icy air and feeling rooted to the spot.

  "Do you think she's a witch?" she asked.

  "Not exactly," I replied. "But she's definitely something."

  She agreed with me, but we couldn't come up with any ideas.

  We had just walked in the door of our house and I was ready to relax, when my cell rang. It was Samantha.

  "What are you doing tonight?" she asked.

  "Why do you want to know?" I replied suspiciously. I was in no mood to be roped into volunteering after the long day I'd had with Circe, but that didn't mean anything. Not when it was Sam I was talking to.

  "Jordan's having a slumber party," she explained. "And you're invited."

  "A slumber party?" I said doubtfully.

  "C'mon, it'll be fun," she said. "All the cheerleaders will be there."

  Fortunately, a slumber party sounded sufficiently juvenile to satisfy my father and he said I could go.

  Twenty minutes later, Sam honked her horn and I grabbed my stuff and headed out.

  "What's in the grocery bag?" she asked.

  "I thought we could make s'mores," I said. "Unless you think that's lame?"

  "It's perfect," Sam assured me. "Jordan wants to build a bonfire at the beach after dinner."

  Sam picked up Rachel and Alyssa at their houses and then we headed to the party.

  Jordan's house was in the expensive part of town and had a killer ocean view. Her dad owned a chain of very successful flower shops.

  I'd been to her house a couple of times, a modern-looking dwelling clinging to the side of a cliff. Jordan ran out to meet us as we pulled up.

  "Everyone else is already here," she said. "C'mon, we've been waiting for you guys, to start the movie. Just leave your stuff in the hallway for now."

  She led us to a theater room with heavy red velvet drapes, rows of huge leather seats, and a projector screen. There was even an antique ticket booth in one corner. If I closed my eyes just a little, I could swear I was in a real movie theater.

  There were a couple of girls there who I didn't know that well. They were probably replacements for last year's graduating seniors. I'd become friends with some of the girls during my brief stint on the squad—which had been strictly to solve a mystery, of course. Someone from the team was missing.

  "Where's Penny?" I asked.

  Jordan avoided my eyes. "She couldn't make it," she said.

  Penny? Miss an opportunity to hang with the elite crowd? I didn't think so. Besides, she was a cheerleader, even though she was an alternate. There was no way they wouldn't invite her.

  I looked at Sam. "Why couldn't she make it?"

  "It's no big deal," she replied.

  "She didn't come because of me?" Penny was madder than I thought.

  "Not exactly," Jordan said. "She's been saying a few things lately, and I told her that if she couldn't keep it civil, she wasn't welcome."

  Sam jumped up. "Let's start the movie," she said. She turned out the lights, a clear signal that she didn't want me to ask any more questions.

  After the movie, we put on our jackets and went out onto the back deck. The water looked cold and dark. Jordan passed out flashlights.

  "Don't forget the s'mores," Sam said. I went back to the front hall and grabbed the grocery bag. We cut through the backyard and down a set of wooden stairs to the beach.

  Jordan's parents were sitting in front of a roaring bonfire, holding hands. There were several beach chairs and a couple of blankets nearby.

  When they saw us, they stood and stretched. "Time for us to head to bed," Mr. Kelley said.

  "You don't have to leave," Jordan said. "Daisy's making s'mores."

  Her dad gave her braid an affectionate tug. "As much as I love s'mores, we'll leave you girls to it. But not too late, okay? And make sure you put the fire out before you go to bed."

  "You mean if they go to bed," Mrs. Kelley said wryly.

  Jordan nodded and we all watched as they walked back to the house, holding hands.

  Alyssa sighed. "Your parents are so romantic."

  "I know," Jordan said. "Gross, isn't it?"

  We all laughed, because we could tell she was proud of them.

  I unpacked the ingredients. "Should I make regular s'mores or ones with white chocolate?" I asked.

  "Both," they chorused.

  So I did. Sam helped
me pass out the snacks and we sat down to enjoy the fire, the company, and the sound of the waves crashing ashore.

  "So, Daisy," Rachel said, her mouth full of chocolate. "What exactly did you do to Penny to make her so mad?"

  "Nothing," I said. "Well, I accidentally spilled something on her, but I didn't think that was that big of a deal."

  "Except you did it in front of Tyler," Alyssa said.

  "So?" I was completely lost.

  "So Penny has a mad crush on him," she explained.

  "That's what this is all about?" I said. "Unbelievable."

  "She'll get over it," Samantha said soothingly. "But maybe you should avoid her for a few days."

  "I will," I said. "But what's the big deal? I mean, he's just a guy."

  "Not to Penny, he's not,"Jordan said.

  I changed the subject. "Who's up for more s'mores?"

  After we'd all drifted into a contented food coma, I collapsed into one of the beach chairs and stared out at the ocean. The moon was hiding behind a cloud, but I thought I heard a woman singing a haunting lullaby. I looked around. Nobody else seemed to have heard it, but then the sound came again, above the crash of the waves.

  "Anyone want to go for a walk?" I said. Secretly, I hoped that no one, or at least no one besides Sam, would take me up on my offer. It was a private beach, so I'd be safe enough.

  To my surprise, Jordan said, "I'll go with you."

  "S-sure," I said. I was a little taken aback. Jordan and I got along all right, but she was more of Sam's friend than mine.

  We walked along in silence for a few minutes, but then Jordan said something unexpected. "You know, my mom told me sailors used to be lured to their deaths by the sound of a mermaid singing."

  "You heard it, too?" I asked.

  She nodded. "I've heard singing a couple of times before, but when I went looking I never saw anything."

  We fell quiet again, but this time the silence was more comfortable. The lullaby had ended, it seemed.

  "It's gone," Jordan said.

  But then the song started again, closer this time.

  "I think it's coming from over there," I said, pointing to an outcropping of rocks near the far shore. I clicked off my flashlight. "No sense in announcing our presence."

  The crescent moon peeked out from behind a cloud. We moved quietly, getting so close that we could clearly hear the words "Go down, oh, you blood-red roses."