I crouched down and stroked her head between her ears. She happily wagged her tail.
«Yes», I answered to Hanna, staring back at where I had seen Sebastian disappearing in his car.
I couldn't stop thinking of him, his figure was filling my head with violence.
I found him so... attractive.
Damn!
I criticized his arrogant ways and disrespect he had towards others, but some sort of strange chemical reaction between our bodies was having fun in making my job more difficult.
I was attracted to him; I couldn't believe it.
«What was he doing in town?» Hanna asked staring at me suspiciously.
«Business.»
«What's wrong, Reb?»
What was wrong with me?
I was struggling with my professional ego versus my emotional one. I couldn't explain it to her, I didn't understand what was happening to me. My best friend wouldn't have reacted well if I confessed her that Sebastian was giving me strange reactions.
I was shaken but determined to just walk the path for glory.
All in all, I was gathering a lot more information than I expected and my article, in my head, was already taking shape.
«I am a bit tired. I need to go back to work. I'll have to question the Weather», I said without giving her further details.
She looked at me dazed but did not reply.
We said goodbye and, with my head in the clouds and anxiety in my stomach, I went back to my office where Josh was waiting for me and he would have choked me with questions.
Chapter 4
Rebecca
Once I was back in the studio, my best friend rushed to me.
«Where were you?» asked with alarmed eyes.
I snorted.
«I never left the editorial office», I answered him taking back my block note, the smartphone and the car's key.
Josh was impatient, he was breathing down my neck curious to know what happened.
«That's all? Don't you have anything else to tell me?»
I hesitated, I didn't feel in the right conditions to face his questions, I was still upset and baffled by that strange encounter with Sebastian.
However, Josh was entitled to some explanations, I couldn't leave without telling him anything.
«Nothing striking. But I found out that he is an asshole, cheeky and rude.»
He brought a hand to his face and let it slide slowly.
«Did he hurt you?»
«Clearly not, but he has really rude ways. He was here for entrepreneurial reasons: business», I explained acting indifferently.
«Like?»
«He didn’t tell me.»
I settled the accessories in my bag and put on the leather jacket.
«Where are you going?» Josh went on helping my stress going to the roof.
«I am going to see the Weathers; I hope they're willing to talk to me. Did you hear Sullivan? He wants an article as soon as it can be.»
I thought that was the only way to sneak away, not having to answer those annoying questions anymore.
«Good luck then», he said forcing a smile. He knew I wasn’t telling him everything, but he respected me and did not insist.
I thanked him and thoughtfully I left the editorial office.
I parked near the driveway of the Weather house, got out and after double checking that I had locked the car, I walked towards the entrance.
I rang the bell.
Frank Weather opened the door.
Deep wrinkles marked his forehead when he frowned at seeing me in front of him. He looked tired and worn out.
In the corner of his mouth, he held a toothpick that he nibbled with restlessness.
He was a large man with a rough, pale skin, a wrinkled face and knotty fingers.
«Good morning, Frank», I greeted him showing a friendly smile.
He raised an eyebrow and widened his nostrils.
«What can I do for you, Reb?» he asked me with a narrow gaze.
«I hoped you were willing to exchange a few words with me.»
His mouth stretched into a bitter smile, he closed his eyes and sighed.
«Was Sullivan sending you? We've been answering the police's questions for days. My wife and I are exhausted. Have a little respect for us», he retorted angrily, pushing the door to close it.
I managed to block it with a foot.
«Please. I'll be discreet and I promise that it won't take me too long.»
He ran a hand through his frizzy grey hair, then scratched his head. He looked at me silently, chewing his toothpick.
«Just ten minutes, Reb. But I don’t intend to disturb Laura, she is resting and she is not feeling well at all», he decided, letting me in.
Laura was Frank's wife, after the disappearance of her daughter no one had seen her again in town. Consumed by pain, she had holed up in the house, coming out no more.
I thanked Frank and, once inside, I followed him into the dining room. I took a seat at the table and retrieved the notebook from my bag along with a pen.
«I am doing this just in the name of the friendship between me and your father», he informed by handing me a glass of water.
«Thank you.»
My parents were friends of everyone, they were two great flatterers, always able to curry favor with anyone and, actually, their relationship with the Weather was fairly confidential.
I, however, with Rose, their missing daughter, had not been able to bond much. We had different priorities due to our age difference.
When she was still a child, I was already in high school.
I had watched her grow, and she had always been a good girl. I remembered that she attended the parish assiduously with her friend Claire.
Now they were both missing.
«I'd love not being here. I am really sorry for what happened», I said taking a sip from the glass.
Frank shook his head and sat down in front of me.
«Let's move on.»
I did not dispute the haste of that big man with an intimidating appearance, rendered almost helpless by desperation.
«Is there any news from the police?» I asked no longer hesitating.
«No news, the investigations are stuck. Rose seems to have disappeared into the air», he reported, crossing his arms on the table.
«What was your daughter's relationship with Claire Harper?» I continued, crossing my legs.
Frank looked up at the ceiling and took a few moments to answer my question.
«They were friends. A bit like you and Hanna Ryder. They were always together. They almost had a gloomy relationship», he confessed with bitterness.
It was as if it costed him to talk about the two girls, he didn't seem to approve their friendship, even if I didn't understand why.
The Harpers were a simple family with no expectations, they enjoyed life in Hazycreek without disturbing or making people talk too much about themselves.
Like Rose, Claire wasn't a bad girl either.
I took notes and cleared my mind.
«Could they have run away together? At their age they are still a little unconscious, perhaps they made a rash and not calculated decision», I proposed thinking about it.
It was a bold hypothesis and perhaps it didn't even make much sense, but I had learned not to take anything for granted and to evaluate every possibility.
«Hard to think. Claire disappeared ten days before Rose», he replied in a whisper.
I couldn't blame him; his reasoning was correct.
«Maybe she reached her. Rose may have disagreed and then changed her mind at a later time.»
«I would love to believe your words, Reb. The hope that my daughter is still alive would not be in vain, but sadly, we are preparing for the worst», he said, drinking half of the water contained in his glass.
«I find it really strange that nothing has been discovered yet. Hazycreek is a small town, how is it possible to disappear without leaving traces?» I considered, reflecting aloud.
«It happens sometimes. More or less every ten years.»
A hard sentence that redundant in my head like an echo.
I was seventeen when three girls mysteriously disappeared into nothing. Even then I couldn't understand it, I had kept the newspaper clippings that reported the news in a locked box.
It could have been a trail.
I vibrated with excitement thinking I was close to a turning point. I could aim high, write a shocking article that would lead me to success. I wanted to fulfil myself in journalism, the ambition was great and now I could show everyone what I was really made of.
I thought about going to my old house and look for those items. I had left them there, I just hoped to find them in their place.
Why haven't I thought about it?
I reflected silently, amazed by how everything seemed to me closer.
«I didn't remember. Do you believe this could mean something?»
«Who knows, people here believe in strange beings, looking like persons. And the punctuality with which these disappearances occur, suggests something malignant. Hazycreek is superstitious, Reb. Look at my sister Mary, exiled from the city, mocked and disgusted by the people of this town. She is considered crazy, just because she is different. We no longer know what to think.»
Frank let out a flood of words difficult to pronounce, there was despair in his voice, resignation and sadness.
Mary Weather was Hazycreek's “freak”, she was considered by everyone a mad visionary with schizophrenia.
She was convinced she could talk to the dead.
She babbled about future predictions, painful events, and sometimes her ramblings were not even understood.
I knew that she had been interned for a long time in a center for mental illness and that she had come back to her senses, but it seemed not to be the case.
«Did Mary express any thought about it?» I dared asking.
Frank clearly needed to let off steam and maybe he wouldn't hesitate to confess some little secrets.
Was I sneaky?
Maybe, but that was my job and I loved it despite the downsides.
Since I was a little girl, I used to play the journalist, I loved investigating, solving mysteries and bringing out little secrets.
In high school, when a rumor was born, I had to go to the bottom, understand what was true to confirm or deny it. Then I reported everything in the school newspaper, my friends were waiting for nothing else but reading my articles.
I thought it was my calling and, in the end, I made it a profession.
«Yes, of course she did. I have never abandoned my sister.»
«Did she speak with... Rose?»
Mr. Weather stared at me for very long moments, I had exaggerated, but I was convinced that in life you had to take risks, sometimes it was better to throw yourself without thinking too much.
I looked forward to his response.
«Reb, my sister is mentally ill, she has always been since childhood. Mary claims that Rose and Claire are still alive and that they were taken by the Thirsty».
I didn't sleep that night.
I had the constant feeling of being close to something disconcerting.
An idea perhaps, a suspicion that was anchored in me, feeding my desire to keep searching.
Maybe mine was just hope because, let's face it, Hazycreek was boring.
It was the first time that the city's balance was altered to the point of being perceived in the air.
Something was really happening, that feeling was standing still in the pit of my stomach taking on more and more consistency.
Chapter 5
Rebecca
The next day I convinced Hanna to come along with me, to scour Elinor and Bryan Cross’ house. My parents.
When they weren’t there, I was just visiting to water the forest of plants they had. My mother had a green thumb, she loved flowers.
So, while they were traveling on their research missions, I took care of that home garden with meticulous attention.
Entering Cross' house meant entering a high-tech laboratory full of plants. A Victorian-style villa that inside was transformed into a spaceship, futuristic and super modern even in its furnishings.
My parents were two Cambridge-graduated researchers with a Biological Science degree.
Dr. Elinor Cross was a molecular biologist and Dr. Bryan Cross specialized in medical, veterinary and pharmaceutical biotechnology.
Their work was never really clear to me, they spent whole days in the laboratory or traveling in search of any subject to study.
They rarely talked about it and I never asked.
It had always been like that and with time I learned to accept their secrets.
They said they couldn't share certain information, so I made up my mind even if it brought a certain detachment between us.
They loved me and I loved them, I had never questioned this, but those small shortcomings had an effect on me, making me grow quickly and alone.
«What are we precisely searching for?» Hanna asked me right entering the house's door.
I hurried to open a few windows, letting in some light and having the air circulating. I stopped to smell a white orchid, gently caressing its white petals.
It was my favorite flower.
«Do you remember my old casket where I was hiding my diary?» I retorted, asking her to follow me upstairs.
She obeyed.
We walked through the large entrance, completely white from floor to ceiling. To break that glow, a black carpet on the right traced the way to the stairs.
We walked along it until we reached the forty-three steps that would have led us to the sleeping area of the house.
My room was the only part being a little more human and less alien.
I was hoping that everything was unchanged. I perfectly remembered hiding the clippings of old newspapers in what as a child was a magical casket for me, where I kept a few objects inside, linked to some precious memories.
I had kept the articles about those disappearances from high school for no particular reason, I never thought they would come in handy ten years later.
We went into my room and turned on the light.
Everything was unchanged, as if time had stopped six years ago, when I had moved to live with Hanna.
I observed the environment: the bed was placed on the right wall facing the sun while the wardrobe and the dresser occupied the side wall. On the opposite side where my bookcase and desk.
I dived in the past, seeing myself bending over it, absorbed in writing my first articles for the school's journal.
They were good memories, the beginning of everything.
Every piece of furniture was smeared with sentences of mine. I had covered the surfaces with simple blue ink pens, a job that lasted years.
Thoughts, fleeting moments that crossed my mind, sometimes simple words without any sense, only the moment I grabbed and then wrote clearly in the wood.
I went near the desk and touched those tangled marks with my fingertips. A puzzle for anyone but it all seemed perfectly clear to me.
My attention was captured by one particular sentence, I had written it in italics along the right edge of the desk.
Violet like her blood.
I remembered the day I wrote it; my thirteenth birthday was a few days away and I had heard my father saying those words. I passed by his studio on the way to the bathroom, those were the only words that reached my ear and stayed in my head for days.
«You used to keep it under your bed», Hanna declared going straight to my bed.
Her voice woke me from my childhood memories.
I saw her kneeling on the ground, almost sticking her head under the bed frame.
«There's a lot of dust here. But I can't see the casket», she said standing up.
She sneezed while cleaning her clothes.
«It has to be there», I objected.
I kept it exactly aligned with my pillow, if it wasn't there, then where else could had been?
I checked myself by using my smartphone flashlight. There was nothing under my bed, just a desert of grains covered with mites.
«Damn it!» I swore furiously, the one thing I was hoping to find in its place, however, was gone.
Hanna gently placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled softly at me.
«They might have moved it, let's check better!» she kindly said.
I agreed.
We searched every corner, every possible place. There was only the wardrobe left, if it wasn't there, I wouldn't know where else to look.
We were about to open the last door. It was divided into shelves and on the penultimate one at the top I was finally able to see an edge of the casket.