By the Pale Moonlight (Book One of the Moonlight Series) Page 3

  "Chill, Mac. I'm just messing around."

  His brows drew together, small indentations growing just above his nose. He looked like a young Brad Pitt turned mad scientist as he tore into the frog with a scalpel.

  Slick insides flew all over the place. I pressed a hand to my mouth as my stomach lurched. I should've skipped lunch that day; it kept threatening to come up to humiliate me in front of half the senior class. Definitely not a good move for someone who hoped to win Homecoming Queen.

  "This is so cool." With a flick of his wrist, David popped one of the frog's eyeballs out. It rolled across the tray, and I swore it looked at me.

  I gagged and coughed into my hand. "You're sick."

  David grinned and continued the evisceration. He hacked off one of its legs and waggled it in front of my face. "Hungry?"

  The overpowering smell of formaldehyde hit my nose, and hot bile rose in my throat. I scrabbled off my chair and made tail out of the room, brushing past a stunned Mr. Varner. Once outside, I gulped deep mouthfuls of air. With one hand against the building to steady myself, I closed my eyes and planned how I would kill David.

  Breathe. In. Out. In. Out.

  At last my insides calmed. I started to return to class, hoping no one had noticed my rapid—and very embarrassing—departure. That's when I saw her.

  Perhaps it was the tense line of her shoulders that caught my attention. Or maybe it was the grim frown on her face. Either way, I knew immediately something was wrong.

  Mrs. Kramer, always the epitome of perfection, appeared completely unruffled. Her light grey suit didn't have so much as a wrinkle and not a hair of her sleek bob was out of place. But she walked past me without acknowledging my presence.

  Something was definitely wrong. A student outside of class always draws the attention of a school principal. Always.

  "Is everything okay, Mrs. Kramer?" I said.

  She rounded on me, eyes unfocused. She didn't seem to recognize me. Tucking a strand of dark brown hair behind her ear, she at last snapped out of it. "Oh, Ms. Wilhelm. I didn't see you there. Why aren't you in class?"

  "Just getting a little fresh air." Warmth spread across my cheeks. "I'm a little queasy from our dissection today."

  "I see."

  Her eyes swept the courtyard. I wondered if she had heard my reply.

  "If you'll excuse me," she said.

  I watched her go in bewilderment. With a shrug, I went back inside, glaring at David until he backed off with the frog part clenched in his fingers. For the rest of the period, he continued the dissection while I tucked my nose in a SAT prep book and did my best to ignore the sights and smells around me. The test was on Saturday and I was determined to make top marks.

  Near the end of the period, the crackle of our PA system springing to life interrupted the squeals and rowdy laughter around the room. Marking my place with a finger, I lowered my book and stared up at the speaker over the door. In my four years at the school, I'd never once witnessed it being put to use.

  Mrs. Kramer's warbled voice came across the system. "May I have your attention, please?"

  Static cut through her words. Mr. Varner shushed the class and craned his good ear toward the sound.

  "Classes are canceled for the remainder of the day. I request all students return home immediately. Any student without transportation should report to the office where rides will be arranged."

  I raised a brow and gave David a questioning look. "What's going on?"

  He shrugged. "Beats me."

  Mrs. Kramer's voice interrupted. "I apologize for being unable to offer further information at this time. Good afternoon and be safe."

  The speaker sputtered off and the room erupted into complete chaos. Not a worried kind, but a "we get the rest of the day off, so let's party" type. I must admit the thought of having the afternoon off sounded great. It would allow me a chance to corner Ty and, if necessary, beat the truth out of him.

  David swooped in for a quick kiss. "I guess I better escort you home. After all, I wouldn't want to leave you unaccompanied." He said the last in a macabre voice. I smacked his arm.

  "First I want to stop in to see my mom. Maybe she knows what's up."

  Tossing my schoolbag over a shoulder, I laced my fingers with his and tugged him out of his seat. We pushed through the crowd of students clustered in the hallway, no one in any apparent hurry to go anywhere. David slapped high-fives with several of his buddies we passed along the way, and eventually I dropped his hand and continued on alone. I found my mother inside her empty classroom. She had a free fifth period and, from the looks of it, had been grading essays when the announcement was made.

  A lock of auburn hair fell across her eyes as she hurriedly stuffed papers in her briefcase. I couldn't help but smile. I'd be the first to admit my mom was a babe. Everyone said I took after her, but frankly I didn't see it. Sure, we shared the same auburn hair and green eyes, but I lacked her grace and style. I always felt like an awkward pre-teen beside her—just hoping to catch up.

  "Mom?"

  She jumped at the sound of my voice. "Makenna! I'm glad you're here. If you give me just a few minutes, I'll give you a ride home."

  "That's okay. I'm going with David." I picked up a paper that had wafted to the ground beside her. "What's going on?"

  Something in her eyes made me nervous. She closed the door before taking a shaky breath to speak in hushed tones. "A student's been killed."

  A small tremor went through me. That's why Mrs. Kramer seemed so out of it. "When? Who?" Oh, God—Ty. He hadn't been in English earlier.

  "Kimberly Urwin. They found her body not more than an hour ago." She grasped my hand. "I know it's a shock. You two used to be such good friends."

  Guilt flooded through me at the amount of relief I felt. "Yeah."

  I tried to reconcile the image of Kim's smiling face at the football game two days earlier with the idea of her being gone. I couldn't. "Do they know what happened?"

  "No. It's all rather..." Her voice trailed off. "We'll talk later, okay? Right now I just want to get you home."

  I snapped out of my reverie. "But David's waiting for me."

  "Then tell him you're leaving." Her tone brooked no room for argument. "I just have to run to the office quick. Do not leave without me."

  With one last warning look to make sure I understood, she hurried down the hall.

  I watched her until she rounded the corner.

  Kim Urwin...dead?

  o0o

  "Mac!" Jenna pushed through the crowd and pulled me to the side of the hall. "What's going on?"

  I bit my lip. "I'm not sure I can really say."

  David came up behind us. "They found Kim Urwin dead under the bleachers."

  "How do you know that?" I stared at him in disbelief.

  David tipped his head at a throng of students surrounding Caleb Martin, a lanky senior known for hanging with a rough crowd. Everyone's mouths gaped open as they hung on his every word. He brushed black hair out of his face, and did a quick double take when he caught me staring at him. A grim smile played on his lips before he continued his tale for the mob of curious onlookers. The look in his dark eyes left me a bit disconcerted, and I forced my attention back to David who didn't miss a beat in his own retelling.

  "Guy over there found her while cleaning up the bleachers after this week's game," he said.

  I glanced back at Caleb, but he didn't look over again.

  Lowering his voice, David leaned in dramatically. "Apparently she was ripped apart like our friend Kermit back in class just now. They think it happened after the football game on Saturday."

  My stomach dropped. "Oh my God."

  Jenna raised her eyebrows. "At least it wasn't anyone we knew."

  I curled my lip. "Jesus, Jenna. She could've been any one of us."

  More likely, she could've been me. The presence in the school that night and her death couldn't be a coincidence. After being frustrated in its attack on me, had what
ever it was gone in search of another victim?

  "Yeah, but luckily it wasn't," Jenna said. She pulled a hand through her hair and scanned the crowds. "Hey, maybe we should find Smelly and see if the two of them had a lover's spat."

  David laughed along with her.

  Smelly was the nickname some witty seniors had given Melanie Hoffs—Kim's best friend. Smelly Melly—get it? They all thought it was so original.

  The conversation I'd had with the pair just two days earlier played out in my mind. Even though I didn't get along with Melanie, I knew she had to be hurting.

  "You guys are jerks." I stormed over to my locker and stuffed my biology book inside.

  "Hey, what's your problem? You didn't even like her." Jenna's voice carried over the crowd at my back. I ignored her.

  I slammed the locker door shut and let out a deep sigh. Turning, I bumped into a warm body passing behind me.

  "I'm sorr...Ty!"

  Ty glanced down at me absently. "Hey, Mac."

  I fumbled around for something to say now that I finally had him face-to-face. "How are you?" Brilliant.

  His eyes skimmed over me. "Fine."

  "D-did you hear what happened?"

  His clothes were rumpled, as though he'd plucked them from one of the piles I'd seen scattered around his room. They matched his dark hair, which stood on end, the ghosts of his fingers having left their mark.

  "What?" he said absently. "Oh yeah, I heard."

  "It's horrible, isn't it? Poor Kim."

  He locked eyes with mine for the briefest moment, a sadness playing across his features.

  "What's wrong?" I whispered.

  "Ty?" The soft voice came from behind him, and Carrie Murgittroyd flashed me a tight smile when he stepped aside. "Hi, Mac."

  "Hey, Carrie," I said, annoyed. As always, she was walking, talking perfection. From her silky brown hair without so much as a strand out of place, down to her flawless figure poured into form-fitting jeans and a sweater that left very little to the imagination. Her timing couldn't have been any worse.

  Ty quickly reordered his features; the vulnerability from just a moment before disappeared behind a cool facade.

  Carrie's eyes flicked between the two of us. "Am I interrupting something?"

  "No," Ty said before I could respond.

  "Good." She tugged on his arm and tried to pull him away.

  To my relief, he didn't budge.

  "I wondered if I could talk to you alone for a moment," Carrie said, uncertainty creeping into her tone.

  "I think we've said it all, don't you?" Ty carefully disentangled her hand from around his arm. With a quick, "See ya, Mac," he took off down the hall.

  She watched him go and then whipped around to glare at me. Eyes locked, we were like two scorned mutts warring for dominance. I turned away first and cursed under my breath.

  An arm slid around my shoulders. "Ready to go?" David asked, barely acknowledging Carrie with a slight nod.

  "I have to go with my mom," I said, backing away. I felt Carrie's eyes on me as I headed toward the office, but when I looked back, she was gone.

  o0o

  "Makenna!"

  I grimaced at the sound of my mother's voice. I'd tried asking her about Kim's death on the way home, but her stony silence soon made it abundantly clear that she didn't want to talk about it.

  I slammed my calculus book closed and once again pulled out the tattered photograph tucked in its front cover. It took me a good twenty minutes to dig the picture out of my closet, and every now and then I plucked it out to stare at the image. I'm not sure what I was seeking—perhaps a level of understanding or forgiveness. Either way, the grinning faces of the twelve-year-olds staring back at me weren't providing it.

  There were five of us pictured—Kim, Melanie, Jenna, me, and Carrie—taken at one of our birthday parties.

  Back then, we'd all been friends—allies who enjoyed chasing after boys as much as we loved telling ghost stories and playing with tarot cards and Ouija boards. I tried not to look, but inevitably my gaze was drawn to Kim again.

  "Makenna!"

  I slipped the photo back in my book and quickly checked my appearance in the mirror.

  There were dark shadows under my eyes and slight worry lines around my mouth. Could I have stopped Kim's death if I had reported the strange presence that night? I had no answer, but deep down I feared I was at least partly to blame.

  Even before I reached the kitchen, I heard my mother's and Mrs. O'Neill's hushed tones. Their topic of conversation wasn't too hard to guess, or the fact that they didn't plan on discussing matters in front of me.

  My father and Mr. O'Neill were standing over my dad's sound system in the living room. An old Queen song blasted through the speakers and the two of them were engrossed in a debate about which of the band's albums was the best. I threw them a feeble wave, and with a deep breath, pushed through the swinging door leading from the dining room into the kitchen. The smell of lasagna hung heavy in the air, thick and spicy, and the two moms were chopping vegetables for a salad.

  "Glad you're here," my mom said a little too brightly.

  I snatched a carrot from the pile before her. I could play along. For now. "What's up?"

  "Would you mind setting the table, honey? We're running behind."

  "Sure thing." I began pulling plates and glasses from the cupboards. "Where's Ty?" I desperately hoped my voice sounded casual.

  "He's not here?" Mrs. O'Neill asked. "I figured you two were studying."

  I pretended not to notice the brief knowing glance they exchanged, too embarrassed to contradict their assumptions about our relationship.

  "Nope—haven't seen him." My voice wavered, and I coughed lightly to clear the lump in my throat.

  "That's odd. His car's been here all afternoon." Mrs. O'Neill frowned and started to untie her apron. "I'll just run over and get him."

  "No—I'll go," I said, thrusting a stack of plates into her hands. They both yelled after me, but I slipped out the door before they could stop me.

  Twilight came too soon these days and there was little light left in the sky as I made my way toward the copse of trees separating our houses. Long shadows pitched the trees into near darkness.

  As kids, Ty and I used to play hide-and-seek in the thick foliage, neither of us daring to admit we were afraid of the dark. In our pre-teens, we'd even shared our first kiss as we dangled our legs from our hidden perch in one of the tall ashes. It ended up being a disaster—all tongue and gnashing teeth. We both left red-faced, vowing it was the stupidest thing we'd ever done.

  We never told anyone, partly because I threatened to kick his ass if he did.

  I knew the path to his house well, having traversed it a million times over the years. Even so, I hesitated at the edge of my yard. The dark thicket looked back at me, suddenly menacing. I felt like a small child who has awoken to the possibility of the boogey man lurking just out of sight.

  "Don't be stupid," I whispered to myself and plunged into the trees. I held my breath the entire way, and at last emerged into Ty's side yard. I glanced up at his dark window and punched the back doorbell. He'd probably fallen asleep.

  When he didn't answer, I pounded on the door. Nothing. I considered getting their key again, but a noise stopped me. I cocked my head and listened, still shaky from my trip through the trees.

  A muffled crash came from the tool shed.

  I quietly stepped inside the small building. A loud grating sound assailed my ears. Ty was stooped over a workbench as sparks flew in the air around him. He had a welder's helmet and thick gloves on, but there was no mistaking him. Ty always filled out a pair of jeans well, and the flannel shirt he wore accentuated his broad shoulders.

  He was cutting up metal pieces with some medieval contraption. A bitter tang settled on the back of my tongue. What in the world was he up to? Afraid of startling him, I took a seat on a workbench to wait.

  At last, he shut off the machinery and slid the
helmet shield up so he could inspect his work. "I'm busy."

  I jumped. "How'd you know I was here?"

  "I heard you come in."

  "Jesus, did you develop dog ears since I saw you last? How the heck did you hear me over all that racket you were making?"

  He ignored my question and grabbed more metal bits from the table. "What do you want, Mac?"

  "Have you forgotten it's Monday?"

  He didn't answer.

  "What the hell is wrong with you?" I stared at his back, long and hard. He continued tinkering with his tools as though I hadn't interrupted. "Does this have anything to do with what happened on my porch?"

  Oh God. I didn't just say that.

  He wiped a sleeve across his sweaty brow and stared at me for the longest time. "What do you mean?"

  How could he pretend it never happened?

  "Don't do this to me, Ty. We haven't spoken since that night, so don't play stupid. Now your cuts...and Kim...and the other night at school, I..." My voice faltered.

  His face remained blank and unmoved.

  "Please talk to me," I said.

  "I'm busy." With that, he lowered the shield and grabbed a blowtorch of all crazy things. With a click of the sparker, it lit with a soft whoosh. He adjusted the flame and bent down to his work.

  Stunned, I simply sat there for a few minutes, not knowing what to do. When it was clear he wasn't going to stop—even for me—I stood.

  Before leaving, I turned and shouted at his back. "Your mom sent me to get you! Dinner's ready!" Feeling I'd done my duty even though he probably couldn't hear me, I backed away.

  "One more thing," I whispered. "I miss you."

  o0o

  When pressed by our mothers as to whether he was coming, I shrugged. "I told him it was ready."

  Just as we sat down to eat, Ty slipped in through the back door. He had changed into a clean T-shirt and no one would've guessed what he'd been up to.

  "Sorry I'm late," he said, and took his usual seat beside me.

  For the next hour Ty seemed to be back to his old self. The switch was startling, to say the least. He spoke easily throughout the meal, and by the time we finished, I thought for sure we were on the road to solving whatever problems were between us.