The Lost Sister (6 page)

“Hey, my boys down at the station know that you can’t call it rape when you have a willing participant.” He then lowered his voice and added, “Besides, who are they gonna believe? A runaway girl with a mom locked up in the loony bin, or one of their own?”

Maddie steeled herself against his taunts. She hated how he was acting, like being harbor patrol gave him the same rights and privileges as a regular town cop. It was obvious that he felt superior to the lowly police force, but at the same time he probably thought it made him look cool to hang out, smoke cigars, and play poker with the police—like they were his boys. He acted like he could get away with anything in this town. Even rape…or murder….

Maddie shoved past him, forcing him to spill hot coffee on his hands.

“Ow, Crane, watch it!” he called after her. She heard him mutter about some “crazy bitches in this town.”

She’d deal with Trevor and the police station later, Maddie thought. She had her own interrogation to conduct as soon as she got home.

Abigail brushed her off when confronted with the information from Trevor. “It was nothing,” Abigail fumed. “A bad reaction to my medication. Made me all jumpy and crazy.” She shook her head emphatically. “Stupid doctors and their ridiculous pills. That’s why they call it a practice, you know, because they haven’t gotten it right yet.”

Maddie tried to reason with her that there was no way she could have done the damage Trevor described. Cancer patients usually have less energy, not enough to destroy a house.

Again, she shrugged it off. “You know how those boys are down at the station. Always blowing things out of proportion. You’ve read the police log in town, haven’t you? A squirrel crosses the street and you’d think the town was under attack by wild animals. Nonsense. Utter nonsense. Besides, why would you believe a word from that good-for-nothing Campbell boy? If you recall, his older brother was the one they think was involved with Cordelia before she disappeared.” Abigail put an exaggerated emphasis on that last word to remind Maddie of her feelings on the subject.

Abigail continued to mutter to herself as she stormed out of the room. “Just because those Campbells have all that money from that oil company doesn’t make them any better than the trash they are.”

Maddie heard her stomp up the stairs and the bedroom door slam. And she knew then that the discussion was permanently over.

Consumed by anger and frustration, Maddie left the Victorian to walk down the street to the beach. This was where she and Cordelia used to sneak off to when they went for midnight swims. The wintry night air felt good on her skin and helped to cool her down.

For some reason, the streets of Hawthorne had never scared Maddie until Cordelia’s disappearance. Nights never held any devilish secrets, except for those nightmarish unearthly creatures born out of her cousin’s wild imagination. Real people never scared Maddie the way that things that went bump in the night did—and the stories that Cordelia spun about the ghosts that curl around bedposts and sit upon a young girl’s chest while she sleeps, attempting to steal her breath and soul. Or the headless banshee that wails and shrieks beneath your bedroom window, heralding a death that will soon claim a family member.

Maddie was quite certain that Cordelia never frightened easily, which was what enabled those frightening tales to trip and fall from her tongue without any hint of trepidation or reluctance of speaking about such dark things, no matter if they were in a darkened room or passing by a cemetery bathed in moonlight. And even after all of the horrible things were done to her by the girls that night on Misery Island, Cordelia never showed any fear.

Questions raced through Maddie’s head as she looked out at the dark churning waters.
Will I ever get the chance to apologize to Cordelia for everything? For remaining friends with girls who tormented her since her arrival in Hawthorne? Will I get the chance to tell her how sorry I am for standing by and letting the events on Misery Island take place? For being too afraid to stand up for her, to save her?

She knew she had to go home. Her mother was the reason she came back to Hawthorne—the only reason. And she needed to be there for her, to support her and help her through this difficult time. But as she turned to leave, something caught her eye. She swore she saw a girl standing on top of the jagged rocks. Her body bent like a dancer’s in an arabesque pose, leg lifted as if about to go into flight. A shock of red hair against the inky night. Yet when she looked again, there was nothing there—no one standing on the rock that sank into the deep waters. It was just a trick of the eye, she reasoned. And despite her unsettling feelings, she turned back toward her home, willing to put the past behind her and deal with what was yet to come.

Later that evening, Abigail paced the well-worn floor of her bedroom, listening to the noise and movement coming from Madeline’s room. It seemed so strange to have activity and any form of life within these walls again. She didn’t want to think about that night. The one where she lost control. The night that she saw things that couldn’t be real—couldn’t possibly occur. She’d known about the hauntings in Hawthorne and the lengths that Tess had gone to keep restless spirits at bay. But without the old woman in the house, the activity started up in the house. The unfinished business, the secrets, the lies—all of it would unravel in a way that no one could control. She wondered if the medication was just making her see things—things that weren’t there, that couldn’t be real. Or if the spirits that haunted her were always there and she just chose to shut them out. Perhaps she was so close to death that the veil between the living and the dead was being drawn aside, allowing her a peek into the afterlife.

Soon, though, Maddie would leave her, leave Hawthorne, and when she did, Abigail would be leaving this house as well, feet first and finally at peace.
God willing,
she thought.
God willing.

D
espite her time away from Hawthorne Academy, as Maddie pulled up to the school, all the old emotions slid back into place: self-doubt, frustration, anger, loss. And fear. Fear was a constant these days. Of what, she wasn’t exactly sure. It had been a year since she left Hawthorne Academy and they had been sending her notices that if she didn’t pick up her records, they would be tossed. Maddie didn’t really care one way or another, but Abigail was adamant that she retrieve her records. It was as if she needed physical proof that Maddie had once been enrolled within the hallowed halls of Hawthorne Academy—something Abigail always desired, but never could afford for herself.

Maddie passed through the double doors of the elementary school wing and made her way across the linoleum floors marred with a spattering of small footprint decals, and she peered into classrooms.

“Maddie? Oh my God! How are you!” squealed a blond girl as she rushed across the room looking like a giant among a village of tiny desks and multicolored chairs. “Trevor told me that he ran into you and I just, well, I should have picked up the phone right there and then.”

As Darcy Willett chattered away in front of her, Maddie tried keeping a smile plastered on her face. Darcy was an exact replica of her mother, with white-blond hair pulled back tightly in a headband, and a Lilly Pulitzer dress.

So Darcy’s a teacher now? God help those poor kids,
Maddie thought.

“Can you believe that I’m working at Hawthorne Academy’s day care this winter? Am I a dork or what?” Darcy beamed. “I even worked as a counselor over on Children’s Island over the summer. Kate said it was just an excuse for me to work on my tan—being outside on the island with a bunch of rug rats all day.”

“Better you than Kate,” Maddie said.

Kate hated kids. Even when Kate Endicott was younger, she always preferred to hang around with the older girls. Maddie remembered the few times that Kate was required to babysit her young cousins, Annie and Mary, and the torturous games she would put them through. One time during a mock game of hide-and-seek, she locked the young girls in the toolshed, threatening their lives if they ever mentioned it to their parents. When Kate’s aunt forced Annie, the younger of the two cousins, to explain the grease-stained clothing and flea bites she had acquired during their absence, she finally gave in and told on Kate. Madeline never doubted for a moment that Kate was responsible for the death of little Annie’s beloved rabbit. The girls learned their lesson, too, and would feign sickness whenever they were supposed to go over to the Endicotts’ house for family events.

“No kidding!” Darcy laughed. “Besides, most of my time out there was spent on overnights, campouts, making s’mores by the campfire. And I just love being with kids. They’re just so sweet and innocent.”

Maddie watched as Darcy chattered on, wondering how going back to an island, even if it wasn’t Misery, wouldn’t bring back any bad memories. Maddie ultimately determined, as she listened to the cheerful banter, that Darcy had absolutely no regrets or guilt about what went on that horrific night that Cordelia disappeared. Darcy continued without missing a beat, or noticing that she was under Maddie’s watchful gaze. “Speaking of our dearest Kate, I will have to get all the girls together so we can catch up with you. Maybe we can all head over to Mariner’s Way for a visit and see your sweet mother, the poor thing.”

Maddie looked at her quizzically. Darcy quickly explained how she knew about Abigail’s condition. “Hannah sees her when she visits your aunt Rebecca. Hannah helps out at Fairview now that Ravenswood has shut down.”

It seemed as though all the members of the Sisters of Misery, all of the girls who took place in the terrible events of that night out on Misery Island, were doing something to ease their guilt by doing community service. Darcy was working with kids. Hannah was working with mental patients. What was she going to discover next? That Bridget was working with people with eating disorders? That Kate was working at HAWK, the local battered women’s shelter?

“I see. So she must have taken care of my aunt Rebecca at some point,” Maddie said, expecting to see her squirm for a moment.

“I suppose,” Darcy answered distractedly, before turning to one of the kids who appeared out of nowhere and attached himself to her pastel skirt. “You know, we’re trying to raise money to turn it into a historic destination. It’s such an eyesore, so creepy. And I can’t even imagine what it would have been like to actually be a patient there.” To make her point, she dramatically shuddered. “Kate’s family is behind it. They’re throwing some kind of charity event for it.”

“Why would they ever do that?” Maddie wondered aloud. It seemed very strange for them to care about the fate of Ravenswood now that her family’s plans of turning it into a luxury hotel was halted by Finn, his family, and the historical society.

“Hmmm?” Darcy murmured, trying to wipe off some of the Elmer’s Glue that the child had rubbed onto her skirt. “Oh, I don’t know. You never know with Kate—she’s always getting involved in something these days. The more visibility, the better. Anytime there’s a chance of a photo opportunity or a chance of getting her face into the social section of the paper, Kate Endicott’s there in a heartbeat.”

“Some things never change,” Maddie said dryly.

Darcy laughed conspiratorially. She added in a hushed tone, “I’m sure her family is making money off of it in some way. Trying to find some way to cut through all that red tape so that they can get their precious hotel. You know the Endicotts.” Her smile froze on her face as she noticed someone behind them in the hallway. God forbid it got back to Kate that Darcy Willett had been badmouthing her.

“Anyway,” she continued, “I’ve got to get the kids ready for pickup, but let’s get together soon.”

“I’ve got the rest of the break.” Maddie raised her arms awkwardly.
Why am I suddenly turning into a dork now that I’m back on my old stomping grounds?
she thought angrily.
It’s as though the old, gawky Maddie Crane is slipping back inside to reclaim my body.

“Perfect! So then you’ll be here for the big gala we’re throwing at the end of the month out on Misery Island. Kate will be thrilled!”

The bell rang, and Darcy made a “call me” symbol with her hand, as she backed into the classroom.

Reed Campbell threw back another drink; he’d lost count as to how many at this point. His brother, Trevor, had come and gone, and now Reed had to clear his head of all the bullshit that his brother had heaped on him during their visit. Talk around town was Maddie had come back for winter break. Trevor had come to tell his older brother to lie low; the last thing he needed was to get wrapped up in all of that again. It had taken him months to live down the rumors of his alleged involvement with Cordelia and Maddie, and if he took up with her again, it would never go away.
“It’ll follow you around like a beer-goggled one-night stand,”
as Trevor put it so eloquently.

“Asshole,” Reed muttered under his breath, as he thought about his kid brother’s ulterior motives. He didn’t give a crap about Reed; Trevor Campbell only cared about saving his own ass. He was worried that if push came to shove, Reed would rat him out about what really happened with Cordelia. If she ran away, it would have been because of Trevor’s raping her. Trevor was just a thorn in his brother’s side, but unfortunately he was still his brother. The bastard brother.

Reed sighed as he remembered all the newspaper headlines when Cordelia disappeared.
Teen-Loving Teacher. Prep School Pedophile
.

There was never a shred of evidence connecting them, but what did that matter in this town? All they needed to convict him in public opinion was a hunch. Or someone with an axe to grind with the ability to spread a rumor at lightning speed.

Someone like Kate Endicott. Despite her constant attempts at seducing him, there was no way he was going to betray his brother and sleep with Kate: his teenaged student and younger brother’s girlfriend. But Kate didn’t get what Kate wanted, something that she wasn’t used to. So she got her revenge by creating this uproar, and consequently destroying his life. Reed wondered as the whiskey burned its way down his throat if Kate knew the real truth behind the rumors. If she knew that it was Maddie that he had fallen for and not Cordelia. Either way, it didn’t matter. He was too old to be thinking about those girls, which was what he told Kate the numerous times she hit on him. But she never let up. Even now with his new girlfriend, Kate was always waiting in the wings (and sometimes even in his bed). Waiting for an opportunity to pounce because he would never give in to her wishes. He remembered the quote that Cordelia told him once at a tutoring session after school.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.
He laughed bitterly as he thought that the darkest demons of hell had nothing on Kate Endicott.

“So she’s back,” Kate said to Darcy. “Wonder how long it’s going to take for her to come visit me? Or maybe her boyfriend Finn won’t let her because we screwed up his plans to turn Ravenswood into a shrine to his beloved Cordelia.” She laughed as she cradled the cell phone against her diamond-studded ear. Word was quickly spreading to the girls about Maddie’s return.

Stretching her legs out on her chaise longue, Kate looked out at Hawthorne Harbor from the windows that wrapped around the house. She pulled her Burberry wrap closer around her willowy body and took a sip of her Baileys-spiked hot cocoa.

Darcy relayed the information about her run-in with Maddie at Hawthorne Academy. Kate wanted every detail—even down to what Maddie was wearing, how she looked, what she said—everything.

“I doubt it,” Darcy said. “She’s still pissed about what happened with Cordelia.”

“Please,” Kate said, deftly grabbing a cigarette and lighting it in one swift movement. She inhaled deeply and then exhaled as she spoke. “Like Maddie is so innocent. She was right there with us. If she’s going to blame anyone, she should blame herself for trying to force Cordelia onto us. She’s the one who should have known better. She knows who’s really responsible.”

Kate was infuriated. Girls were bullied all the time—and it never hurt anyone. At least not seriously or in any permanent manner. Her parents used to encourage her to withstand her older sister’s torments growing up. Kiki Endicott berated Kate for crying, telling her that she needed to grow a thicker skin and get tough. Her older sister, Carly, sneered at her little sister’s tearstained face.

“Suck it up, Katey-Cat,” Carly would shout at her younger sister. “Who’s ever gonna like a crybaby like you?” And then she would tug at her sister’s blond locks, or pull the head off a favorite doll. Kate even woke up one morning with a large wad of gum gobbed up in her long hair.

“It’s really Madeline’s fault, if you think about it,” she said in a hushed tone to Darcy. She didn’t want any of the cleaning women to overhear her conversation. She knew how fast gossip flew around Hawthorne. “I mean, it was her cousin that came into town and started all of this. So if Maddie has come back to point fingers, then I think it’s our responsibility to give it right back to her—give her what she deserves.”

As soon as Finn heard that Maddie was back in town, he went to see her. Unfortunately, no one came to the door at the old Victorian on Mariner’s Way when he rang the bell. He knew about Abigail and her battle with cancer and that she was probably right inside the house watching him, maybe even too weak to answer the door. He was going to leave a note, but then decided against it. He’d come back another time. Instead, he took a detour on his way home and visited a place that always brought him comfort and hope. He walked by the faces of the Pickering sisters that had been carved into the wall at Ravenswood and wondered how long this wall was going to last. If the Endicotts had their way, this wall would be demolished along with the rest of Ravenswood in order to build their luxury hotel. And then he would lose his last and final tie to Cordelia.

He had added Cordelia’s face to the wall that commemorated his ancestors, and continued the tradition started by his great-great-grandfathers. He brushed the ivy from the faces and some dirt from the crevices around the carvings. They almost resembled the old carvings of gargoyles he’d seen on old churches, but the faces were softer, more cherubic than menacing. He knew that people used to carve gargoyles onto buildings to keep away evil spirits—they were used for protection. But he knew that these women—the ones whose faces were on the wall—were the ones who really needed protection.

The Pickering sisters, his great-aunts, were hunted as witches during the Salem witch trials. And Cordelia was persecuted for being different—for being too beautiful, too wild, untamed. Finn chuckled. Cordelia was definitely a modern day version of a witch and what those girls did to her…He stopped because he couldn’t bring himself to think about that terrible night that he had witnessed out on Misery Island. It was a night that most strong and able-bodied men wouldn’t have been able to withstand, let alone a teenaged girl.

He wondered about her, as he always did. More times than he’d ever admit to anyone. Was she out there with his child? What did she use the money for? Was she pregnant, or was she just using that as an excuse to get out of Hawthorne? Had she ever really loved him, the way that he loved her? He hated pining for her, and was quite sure that if she had the same feelings for him, he would have heard from her by now. He knew it was time to move on, and in many ways he had. But now Maddie was back in town and all the old feelings inside him were starting to come back to life. The constant ache he felt whenever he looked out at Misery Island, or visited the beach where they first kissed, or caught a scent of lavender and jasmine that reminded him of Cordelia’s perfume.