Dark and Shallow Lies(80)

Because that feels like cheating.

And then there’s nothing to do but wait.

Pace the floor. Count the little faded apples on the kitchen wallpaper. And wonder. Drive myself wild with worry. Wait some more. Until I finally fall asleep on the cold linoleum.

It’s hours later when I wake up. 4:32 a.m.

I wonder if Hart has found Zale.

Out there.

In the wild dark of the bayou.

I think about Evie. How terrified she must be. If she’s anything at all any more.

I stand up to stretch my aching back, and suddenly the radio turns to static. A low white-noise hum.

The overhead light flickers. Then dims. Then goes blazing bright. And dims again.

The hair on my arms stands straight up, and I hear my heart hammering in my ears.

I creep to the back door to crack it open and peer out into the night. But there are no ice-fire eyes burning in the shadows.

A gust of wind sweeps into the kitchen. It rips the knob from my hand and flings the door wide open.

Evie’s chimes whisper my name. They call me outside. Like an invitation.

So I step out on to boardwalk behind the house. Almost like I’m dreaming.

Hart would tell me not to. But Hart isn’t here.

There’s a forgotten hammer lying on the back step, from when we put the plywood over the windows, and I pick it up and wrap my fingers around the handle.

I pause to search the dark again for bright blue eye-shine. Like looking for a gator in a black pond. I tighten my grip on the hammer. But I still don’t see that icy glow staring back at me from the edges of the swamp. I know he’s close, though, so I tiptoe around the side of the house until I can peek around the corner and look toward the dock.

And there he is, blond hair blowing in the moonlight. Looking out at the water. Standing not five feet away from what’s left of his father.

I freeze, but it’s too late. Zale turns to look back, and I’m caught in his fire-and-ice gaze. He raises a hand to wave at me, and it’s like the movement wipes me clean. My fear slips away, and calm settles on me like a cool sheet in the summertime. It pulls me out of hiding, and I stand in the middle of the boardwalk staring at him, the hammer still dangling from my hand.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, Grey.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask him.

He smiles at me.

Those eyes.

“I wanted to make sure you were safe.”

But I’m not safe, am I? Not with him here.

Everything is so confusing.

I push back at the fog that’s blanketing my brain. I can’t let him work that magic on me.

Not tonight.

I wriggle out of that peaceful feeling like I’m shedding wet clothes.

“Where’s Evie?” I demand. “What did you do with her?”

Zale looks confused. “Evie?”

“You took her,” I say. “Like you took Elora.” The look on his face is proof that he didn’t see that coming. “Is she dead?” I push. “Did you kill her, too?” My stomach is all tied up in writhing knots. Like a nest of snakes. “The way you killed Elora?”

The sudden electricity in the air is enough to stand my hair on end. Across the river, lightning scatters sparks like the Fourth of July. Thunder rumbles, then cracks sharp.

“I never hurt Elora,” Zale protests, and I hear the hurt in his voice. “I wouldn’t –”

“That’s a lie.” Anger bubbles up inside me until it overflows so hot I’m afraid I’ll melt into the boardwalk. “You made her fall in love with you. Then you promised her you’d run away together. You told her to sneak away and meet you that night. On the dock.”

“Grey –”

“And then you killed her instead.”

“I didn’t.” His voice is low. Calm. But mine is rising fast.

“You were the last one to see her alive,” I accuse. “You told me that yourself!”

“I never hurt her,” he tells me. “Elora was my friend. Until I met you, she was my only friend.” He looks so genuinely lost. “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to trust anyone. But Elora proved me wrong. I loved her, Grey. Same as you did. Why would I kill her?”

Zale takes a step in my direction, and the light in his eyes dims when I move away from him.

“Grey? Why? Why would I kill Elora?” He takes another step toward me, offers me his hand. “Grey. Why?” I need him to stop talking. I need him not to come any closer. “We saved each other. I told you that.”

I take another step backward.

“Tell me,” he says. “Why would I do that?” He reaches for me again. “Why?” I can’t take this. He has to stop. “Why?”

That last word echoes off the river.

“Because we killed your father!”

Zale freezes as the wind moans around him. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t say anything. I wait for the flash of lightning. For the roll of thunder. But there’s nothing.

Just bewildered silence.

And sudden, terrible cold.

“What do you mean?” The question is so quiet. So deep. So utterly real. “Who killed my father?”

“Elora’s daddy.”

Zale staggers backward, like I shot him in the chest. The way Leo shot Dempsey Fontenot the night this all started.