Believing (Lily Dale #2)(51)

Seeing the new Kevin would be just a painful reminder that those days are gone forever . . . wouldn’t it?

On the other hand, seeing him—and revisiting the past— might actually help to cure that vague homesickness that pops up every now and then.

Great. So which is it?

As she crosses the quiet street to her grandmother’s small patch of front lawn, a familiar, nagging uneasiness creeps over Calla.

Probably just because she’s out alone in the dark of night in Lily Dale.

Yeah. And because some little kid said a bad guy is out to get you.

She glances up to see that there’s no moon tonight. The sky is black and wisps of mist drift eerily in the yellowish glow above a nearby lamppost.

Pretty spooky. She looks around, half-expecting to find Kaitlyn’s spirit hovering nearby, but it isn’t.

Still, she has the distinct feeling that she’s not alone out here. That someone is watching her.

Which is crazy.

Are you really going to let a five-year-old put crazy ideas into your head?

Heart pounding, she hurriedly climbs Odelia’s front steps, noticing she has yet to rehang the shingle with her name on it.

Calla opens the door. Of course it’s unlocked, as always, and of course she finds herself thinking, as always, that her grandmother shouldn’t be quite so reckless.

She slides the bolt behind her, and for the first time, doesn’t feel entirely secure even then.

Through the window in the door, Calla looks out into the night. The glare from the porch light makes it impossible to see beyond, and she wonders if someone really is lurking out there, in the inky shadows.

Someone dead? Or someone alive?

Thinking of Kaitlyn, and Erin, she shudders and turns away. Stop freaking yourself out.You’re being ridiculous.

The sound of the television from the next room is a normal and welcome distraction, and she takes a few deep breaths to calm herself.

Okay. Good. Everything is fine. See?

In the living room, she finds Odelia snoozing in her chair in front of a CSI rerun.

Calla hesitates for a moment, wondering if she should wake her to say she’s home.

Or . . .

You can quietly go make a phone call without being overheard.

Opting for plan B, she tiptoes past her grandmother into the kitchen, which is bathed in a cozy glow from the bulb beneath the stove hood. As Calla reaches for the phone, something darts across the room.





That was her, Calla, suddenly appearing out of the darkness and disappearing into the house just now.

He knows, without a doubt, that it had to be her.

She looks just like the woman’s description.

And she’s beautiful, like the others.

Beautiful, and afraid . . . yes, like the others.

But he found them, their pictures, by chance. Followed them, learned their routines, waiting oh so patiently to strike. And they fell for his ploy, believing, at least at first, that he was a police officer trying to help them. It was almost surprising, how easy it was to lure them in.

Then again, those girls didn’t have some kind of crazy sixth sense. They weren’t the least bit suspicious of him.

This girl might be different.

He was so startled to see her out here, alone in the dark, that he simply froze.

You missed your chance. There she was, a few feet away, all alone on a deserted street. He could simply have reached out and— Yes, but it isn’t time.

He’s known all along that he isn’t going to do anything tonight, no matter how badly his hands ache to grab her.

He clenches them into fists, fighting the urge, knowing he can’t rush into anything on the spur of the moment.

These things take time. He has to be in the right frame of mind. He has to have a plan. He has to be ready to cover his tracks.

For now, he should be content to just watch her, to savor each moment, knowing that he alone controls her fate.





“Gert! Geez, you scared the heck out of me!” Calla plucks the kitten from the kitchen floor and holds her close, stroking two fingertips over the soft fur between the delicate little ears. “I’m such a nervous wreck tonight. What’s up with me?”

Gert rewards her petting with a purr that is surprisingly strong for a creature her size, and Calla smiles as she dials the phone.

What an adorable kitten, she thinks.

Which leads illogically to, What if Kevin and Annie broke up?

Seriously. What if he came to his senses and realized he and Calla belong together and is trying to feel her out, wondering if she’d be open to hooking up again?

She can’t keep wondering. She has to find out, so that she can either move on, once and for all, or . . .

Or what?

Get back together with Kevin?

She tells herself that would be a terrible idea. For plenty of reasons.

She just can’t seem to think of any off the top of her head.

The phone is already ringing on the other end of the line.

“Hello?”

“Lisa! It’s me.”

“Tiffany?”

Stung, she replies, “No . . . Calla.” Tiffany Foxwood goes to Shoreside Day School with Lisa—and isn’t one of Calla’s favorite people in the world.

“Calla! Wow, it’s so good to hear your voice!”

Wondering if Lisa and Tiffany have been hanging out, she tries to say lightly, “That’s funny, since you didn’t even recognize it.”