Part 13 (1/2)

Amelia.

”You're insane,” he whispered. But a part of him heard the truth in Gerard's words. There had been whispers in town among the workers, about why such luscious, profitable grapes grew on this inhospitable land, why the rains fell on these acres and not others. Why the previous owners had had so many years of wealth, but then the old man who lived here had gone insane and sold the land to Edmond for pennies on the dollar. The land was cursed, some said. Blessed, others said.

Magic, his father said.

”No, I'm not.” Gerard shook his head, his eyes s.h.i.+ning in the moonlight above. ”I've drunk from this vine, and I know the truth now. This land has to have its sacrifice to continue giving its gift of riches and life.”

”Sac-sacrifice?” Auguste tried to scramble back, but there was nowhere to go. The vines held fast, held him against the well.

”You, my brother.” Gerard picked up Auguste's feet and turned his brother around until he was bent over the yawning ink-black cavity of the well. Auguste inhaled a smell unlike any other.

The smell of death.

”This is a gift,” Gerard insisted, just before giving his brother the final shove into the depths of the well. He screamed an apology-a cascade of apologies-but it was too late. The choices had been made. The gift given.

But it was a gift Auguste hadn't asked for. Or wanted.

One Auguste had now waited two hundred years to give to someone else.

I didn't bother to sleep after I got home from the police station. When Sam got called to the hospital, I headed into the woods. I shouted down the well several times.

Nothing.

I slept in the abandoned house that night, hoping Megan might show up there, but she never did.

A few minutes before seven the next morning, I sneaked back into the house and up to my room. Just in time for Sam to knock on my door. ”I'm driving you to school. You have twenty minutes.”

”Good morning to you, too.” Jerk.

As I got ready, I wondered why he wanted to keep such a tight leash on me. It wasn't all that unusual for him to be helicopter stepdad, hovering over my every move, but these were different circ.u.mstances. He'd come down on me extra hard yesterday when he'd handed me a list of ch.o.r.es that would have kept me too busy to do more than breathe. Why? So I wouldn't have time to look for Megan?

Did he think I was involved?

Ora Was he somehow involved?

This was his land, after all. His vineyard. His woods.

Plus, he seemed to hold a special kind of hatred toward me, one I'd never really understood. I'd always figured it was because he didn't like the three-for-one package of kids that had come with my mom.

Could he have something to do with that thing in the well? If that was so, then why wasn't he the one tossing me down there? Why my mother?

That was the part I couldn't get my head around. Sam didn't like me and he had these establish-the-dominant-role issues, but he hadn't done anything homicidal. That had been all my mother's doing. Still a The whole thing bugged me.

I slung my backpack over my shoulder and took one last look out the window. Somewhere in those woods was the well. And maybe Megan. One way or another, I was going to find her.

Sam didn't say a word when I got in the car. He put the Beamer in drive and squealed out of the driveway.

”Where was Mom this morning?” I asked.

”Grocery store.”

”Oh.” We stopped at a light and waited for a pudgy crossing guard to wave some Dora-toting kindergartners across the street. I s.h.i.+fted in my seat and tried to think of a good way to ask the next question. Didn't find one. So I just opened my mouth and let her fly. ”What's that well in the woods for? Like, water or something?”

Sam had been about to step on the gas. He stomped on the brake instead. The car behind him laid on the horn. ”Don't go near that thing. It's old. Probably dangerous.”

”It, ah, looks pretty cool.”

”I said don't go near it. It's Jumel property.” His voice was harsh, cold. He gunned the car and the Beamer leaped forward, nearly hitting the crossing guard as she stepped off the curb again. She waved her little red stop sign at Sam, but he was already blocks away.

”But-”

Sam swiveled his gaze toward me. ”Don't argue with me, Cooper. Or I'll be sure you regret it.”

He stared at me, eyes like laser beams of fury. I could have cut the tension in the car with a chain saw.

I put up my hands and sat back. ”Cool.”

”Oh, and just so you know, Paolo came back.” Sam cut his gaze to the left as he turned the car.

”Really?”

”I had to fire him for missing all that work, but yeah. He's fine.”

If that was so, what the h.e.l.l had been in that hat? Whose skull had that been? If not Paolo's, whose?

Sam skidded to a stop in front of my school. I got out, but before I could shut the door, he leaned toward me. ”I'll be back to pick you up at the end of the day. You be here. On time.”

”Don't you have to work?”

A smile curved across his face. ”I'm working at home today.” Then he was gone, tires squealing.

That had been weird. Not only was Sam keeping his thumb on me today, but he'd also freaked when I'd mentioned the well. Barred me from going anywhere near the thing. Because he knew about what was in there?

He had to. He'd lived there all his life. If he knew, then did he also know what was going on? And was his warning a way of protecting me- Or keeping me from finding Megan?

By English cla.s.s, I still didn't have a clue. I tossed and turned the encounter around in my mind and got nothing. Sam had a regular raging att.i.tude, so I couldn't be sure if it was that or if he had something else going on.

I dropped into my seat, plopped my books onto the floor, and propped my feet on Joey's chair. Joey turned around and stared at me. ”What are you doing here, dude?”

I shrugged. ”I'm a m.a.s.o.c.h.i.s.t. I like being beaten up by Shakespeare.”

Joey leaned in closer. ”People think you killed her, man. You need to lie low.”

How could people think I had anything to do with Megan's disappearance? Didn't they know how I felt about her? How close we'd been for years, even before we'd started dating? Or was I just getting the auto had-to-be-the-boyfriend guilt-by-a.s.sociation thing?

”Joey, I didn't do anything,” I whispered. ”I don't know where Megan is.”

The rest of the cla.s.s filed in. People s.h.i.+fted away from me, sitting a row back, a row ahead. Whispers started, carrying around the room like a wave. Drue Macy glared at me and huddled in a corner with her female coven.

Mike hurried in just before the bell rang and slid into the chair beside mine. ”Coop, you can tell me. Did you do it?”