Believing (Lily Dale #2)(37)

My sister.

Seeing movement out of the corner of her eye, Calla turns her head and there, standing beside her, is Aiyana.





ELEVEN

Aiyana’s solemn expression is almost . . . knowing.

As if she’s telling Calla she can read her thoughts, and . . .

And what? What’s going on?

“So should we check the site they set up for Erin?” Evangeline’s voice seems to be coming from a great distance.

What are you doing here? What do you want from me? Calla demands silently, but it’s already too late. The spirit’s presence evaporated as quickly as it materialized.

“Calla?” Evangeline asks clearly.

Calla blinks. “Yeah?”

“Do you want to check Erin’s site first?”

“Oh . . . yeah. Sure.” She sinks into the chair just vacated by Mason and reaches for the mouse.

The only update on Erin’s Web site is that she’s been found alive, which is trumpeted in a bold, jubilant headline. A further search of regional newspapers reveals more of the same, as well as the news that the police are hoping to interview Erin about her attacker as soon as she’s up to it.

“I’m sure they’ll find the guy who did it,” Evangeline says, hovering over Calla’s shoulder. “Or woman. I mean, we don’t know it was a guy.”

“Yes, we do. Kaitlyn said.”

“Oh. Right.” Evangeline sighs. “Look, don’t worry too much about it.”

“Who says I’m worried?”

“You don’t have to say it. You look it.”

“Okay, I’m worried. What if he comes after me next?”

“How can he? He doesn’t even know who you are.”

“That reporter found me.”

Evangeline falters. “That was a fluke. I’m sure you’re safe. Come on. Let’s go back out to the porch before it starts snowing or something,” she adds with forced cheer.

“Wait—can I just check my e-mail for a second?”

“Sure. I’ll go get the wine for your grandmother. Be right back.”

Left alone, Calla quickly signs in to her screen name, clicks on the mailbox icon. It takes a moment for her to realize she’s looking at another e-mail from [email protected].

Kevin.

Hey, what’s up? I was flipping channels on the tv last night and you’ll never in a million years believe what popped up. Remember that really stupid movie from 1982 or something, the one we watched at my house that day it was raining and we couldn’t go to that clambake at the beach . . . you know, when we both kept saying we couldn’t believe we were wasting time watching something so stupid, but we kept thinking it might get better? And it didn’t? In fact it got worse and worse and more and more stupid? Well, guess what? It was on again. And I watched the whole thing again. BTW, it’s not any better the second time, LOL. Still really really really stupid. So anyway . . . I couldn’t believe it was on AGAIN. Much less that I got sucked in AGAIN.

Well, that’s my earth-shattering e-mail for today. Write back if you have time. Take care. I hope you’re doing okay.

xoxo Kevin

Calla impulsively clicks the Reply button, opening a blank e-mail addressed back to Kevin.

How’s this for a coincidence? I saw it too. Last night, I mean. But I had the opposite reaction. I was able to find new and profound meaning in the plot this time around. The symbolism really blew me away. I can’t believe you missed it.

JK. I thought it was just as stupid the second time. But yeah, I also watched the whole thing—AGAIN. What does that make us? LOL

It’s good to hear from you. I’m hanging in there.

xoxo Calla

“Ready?” Evangeline pokes her head in the door, a glass of wine and two cans of soda balanced in her hands.

“Yeah, in a second. I’m just checking my e-mail.”

“Anything interesting?” She attempts to push a strand of hair back from her face. Impossible to do without spilling something.

Evangeline spills everything.

“Oh, geez.” She looks down at the spreading puddle of wine and Pepsi on the floor. “Am I a klutz, or what?”

“Here, I’ll help you. Get paper towels.” As she pushes back her chair, she automatically hits Send . . . and immediately wishes she hadn’t. Especially since she signed her e-mail with hugs and kisses.

Oh, well.Too late now.

She and Evangeline mop up the floor, gather more wine and soda, and finally make it back out to the porch. There, they find Odelia dozing in her chair, head thrown back, mouth slightly open and making a whistling sound.

“Uh-oh.” Calla grins. Odelia can’t sit down at night without snoozing.

“Yeah,” Ramona says affectionately, “man down.”

“Guess it really was past her bedtime,” Calla’s father comments, and she notices that for someone who’s usually pretty shy, he looks surprisingly relaxed, sitting out here with a total stranger.

“Well, we can’t let her wine go to waste,” Ramona says. “You drink it.”

“Why not.” He shrugs and accepts the glass.

“I was just telling your dad what a great high school we have,” Ramona tells Calla, who promptly decides that if anyone deserves hugs and kisses, it’s Evangeline’s aunt.