What the Dead Want(30)

I wonder if George might be helpful to you. I feel that there is something hidden about him—is it a hidden sympathy? Surely he has the means to aid people in need if directed in some way to do so. I have never discussed these matters with him myself, though perhaps you might. The three of us together could get so much more done. And my parents suspect him of nothing.

Yours,

Fidelia

Gretchen delicately put the letter back in the envelope. It was like she could almost hear Fidelia’s voice.

“Gretchen!” Hope called from out on the porch. “You coming?”

“Yeah, just a sec,” Gretchen said, and headed out the door, her head and heart full of a family she never knew she had, whose secrets she was now determined to solve. She heard her aunt’s voice ringing in her ears: Mona . . . she was here. She’s closer than you think.





FIFTEEN


LIKE THE NIKON AND THE DARKROOM, THE CAR WAS something to behold. The few things that were truly Aunt Esther’s and not tied to the house were perfect. And her Ford Triumph was no exception.

The car had the long, sharp art deco lines of its period. Bright chrome stripes and triangular backseat windows. Cat’s-eye brake lights. Double headlights. A shining sleek-looking grille. A white interior that had miraculously managed, over the decades, to stay white. Along its sides there were wide white panels, but otherwise the color was dinner-mint green. The color of the chalky candies some diners still kept in glass bowls by the register.

Somewhere Gretchen had seen a photograph of Grace Kelly wearing a silk scarf on her head, driving exactly this car down a stretch of mountain road above a beach.

“Wow,” she said. The incredible vintage chic of it was amazing. Simon would lose his mind when he saw this car. Oh, Simon, she thought, she had to try calling him again as soon as she could.

“It’s pretty awesome,” Hope said. “I’ve been taking it out for the last week—just driving around the hills.”

“How old are you?” Gretchen asked Hope.

“Fourteen,” Hope said, and shrugged. “I didn’t say I was legally driving it around the hills.” There was another old car up on cinder blocks at the back of the barn, this one a small convertible. “It’s a Citro?n,” Hope said. “My dad and I were working on it before he passed. He’d wanted it to be totally restored by the time I was old enough to drive. I’ve almost got it there.”

Apart from the car being a beautiful thing, Gretchen was relieved it was there. They could leave if there was an emergency. And they could also use it to transport things from the Axton mansion.

She had never really thought about anyone except paid mechanics fixing cars. It never occurred to her that some people might want to do it for fun.

“Does Hawk work on the car too?”

“Hawk?” Hope laughed. “That boy can’t screw in a light bulb without help. Part of the reason I learned to drive is so I can take him to music lessons. He’s got a long walk in the winter.”

“Guitar lessons?”

“Everything,” Hope said. “Cello, clarinet . . . banjo.” She grinned when she said it. “He’s going away to music school next year.”

“What will you do when he leaves? Will you still live here?”

“Now that Esther’s gone, I don’t know. I want to stay in school here. I don’t want to move.”

“Not even with all the . . .”

“The accidents?” Hope laughed. “There’s about one day a year all that stuff seems like something to be worried about. I’m not scared of accidents. If an anvil falls on my head, it’s because my time has come.”

Gretchen rubbed her shoulder. It felt bruised and tender but was scabbing over. “Last night,” Gretchen said, “I saw the girls you were talking about.”

“Celia and Rebecca,” Hope said. “Were they playing with a rope?”

“You’ve seen them too?” Gretchen asked.

“I’ve seen pictures of them.” She shrugged. “I believe in these things because of Hawk. Because I trust him. Because I know the world is full of things we don’t understand. But honestly, my mind’s not entirely made up on what’s causing all this stuff. Science used to seem like magic, people once believed lightning was God’s wrath. We can call them ghosts and accidents but we may never really know what any of this is about.”

Gretchen touched the bite mark at her side, and thought of the pictures she’d taken last night—the ones to prove to herself later it was all nothing but a hallucination. It was clear Hope was the practical part of the Green siblings. Just talking to her made Gretchen feel more grounded.

“Listen,” Gretchen said. “I think we should take the car back over to Esther’s and gather some of her things, before . . .” She was about to say “before they take over” but had no idea what that really meant. Or why she suddenly felt so sure she knew what she was talking about. She felt like she had in the morning after she’d found the rope—a little light-headed and then suddenly very determined.

“Sure,” Hope said. “Let’s do it!”

“If you’re going over to the house,” Hawk said, startling them as he stood in the doorway, “be careful of Celia and Rebecca.”