Devil's Advocate (The X-Files: Origins #2)(77)

No reaction.

Dana circled back to the eclipse symbol as a way of laying out the case against Angelo Luz. She told them about the scars on his hand that Corinda had seen in her vision, and how they matched the scars on Angelo’s hand.

She told them about being chased. That was the first time her mother reacted at all. Mom began to reach across the table to take Dana’s hand, but Dad stopped her with a curt flick of his hand. Mom withdrew her hand, and Dana could see her shutting down, dropping the blinds over the hurt in her eyes.

By the time she was done, Dana had told more than she wanted to. She laid her soul bare, and as she did so, it occurred to her how weird it sounded. Being fifteen did not help.

When she was finished, Mom looked at the two sisters and then at Dad. She had not said a single word the whole time.

Dad finished chewing the last bite of his fig bar, washed it down with a long drink of cold tea, set the cup down very carefully and precisely, and then folded his hands together atop the dining room table.

“Well,” he said calmly, “that is quite a tale.”

The kitchen was so quiet they could hear Charlie asking Gran a question about tree sprites and canned laughter from a TV sitcom.

“We need to call the sheriff’s department tonight,” said Melissa. “We can’t let another minute go by.”

“Right,” agreed Dana. “Something bad could happen to Ethan or Karen.”

“Something bad could happen to Dana,” said Melissa, and that made Mom’s eyes twitch.

“And we need to get them to arrest Angelo.”

“Enough,” said Dad, his voice very soft.

“But we—” began Dana, but suddenly Dad rose up and slapped his palm down on the table so hard it was like a shotgun blast. Everyone recoiled, the teacups danced, and one spilled.

“I said enough!” roared Dad. His face, which had been placid, blazed a fiery red and he stood there, his whole body trembling.

“Bill,” began Mom, but he shot her a look so intense and withering that she flinched as if he’d raised his hand to her.

Dad pointed his finger at the girls, first Dana and then Melissa, stabbing the air with it. “I have had enough of this nonsense. Who do you two think you are? Who do you think I am? You come here and tell me all this? You talk about breaking into someone’s desk and reading confidential papers? You lie about seeing dead girls? You do who knows what with hippies and perverts at that store? You try to get me to believe that some boy is stalking you? What exactly do you take me for? Is this how it is with kids today? You think you’re so smart, so hip, that anyone over a certain age is a fool who will believe any batch of lies you try to sell. How dare you? Both of you … how dare you? Where’s your common sense? Where’s any sense at all? And where is your decency and respect?”

The words struck Dana and Melissa like a barrage of cannon fire, driving them back into their seats, stinging their skin, hurting like actual blows. It took so much courage for Dana to speak. Her voice seemed lost, frightened away, leaving only mute silence. And yet she fought to defend herself.

“You have to believe us, Daddy,” she said.

“I don’t have to believe anything you say, Dana. I’m outraged. I’m shocked at both of you.”

“Bill,” said Mom, standing, “you’re scaring them.”

He wheeled on her. “Scaring them? I’m terrified for them. I should be able to trust my own children, and then they go and do this? To my own face? In my own house? I’m humiliated.”

“Dad, please,” began Melissa, but he growled at her.

“I expect this kind of nonsense from you, Melissa. You’ve never had your feet on the ground since you were born.”

Melissa sagged back, tears welling from her eyes, and Dana knew that he could not have hurt her more if he’d shot her through the heart. But then Dad turned his venom on her.

“And you, Dana,” he said, his face darkening from red to purple, “I had hopes for you. You, at least, tried to act right. To do your schoolwork, to be sensible. And now this? You’re even worse.”

“Dad—”

“Who do you even think you are? Investigating a crime? You’re not a trained investigator. There are highly trained and important men whose job it is to catch criminals, and they don’t need help from little girls.”

There was so much in that statement that hurt her, diminished her, deflated her.

“I’m ashamed of you, Dana,” said Dad, turning away. “I’m ashamed of both of you.”

The silence that fell was a crushing weight. Mom sat there, bullied to silence as she was so often, tears filling her eyes but staying there as if not daring to fall. Melissa wept openly, her body shaking as if she were being hit with a series of electric shocks. Dana did not know how to think or feel, and there did not seem to be enough air in the room.

“You’re both grounded,” said Dad. “God only knows for how long. I’d lock you in your rooms if I could. And you can say good-bye to your friends in school and at that stupid astrology shop. No phones, no TV, no radio, no visitors. No boys. And as of Monday you’ll both be seeing Dr. Kingston for psychiatric evaluations. Maybe this is some kind of hysteria brought on by the deaths. Maybe there’s a pill for it, I don’t know.”

He stopped and turned sharply to see Gran standing in the doorway. She wore a small, cold smile, and all the glassiness was gone from her eyes.