The Dark Divine

"But--"

"Now." And I swear she gave me this look like she thought I was up to something she wouldn't approve of. "Fine."

My legs ached and protested as I staggered up to my bedroom. All that ru

I was busy blaming Mom in my head for potentially ruining my chances to talk to Daniel and my father, when I heard low voices coming from Jude's bedroom. I could make out Jude's somber voice and April's cocker spaniel-like yips of reassurance. I clutched my bundle to my chest and inched toward Jude's door.

"It's not fair," I heard him say.

"Why?" April asked.

"You don't understand. They don't understand." Jude's voice went lower. "How can they not see what he's doing?"

April said something I couldn't make out.

"It's wrong. He's wrong. Everything about him is wrong," Jude said. "I'm the good one. I'm the one who does everything this family needs. I'm the one who is here every day for them, and now he's back for a few hours, and they believe him over me. Dad and Grace act like he's some kind of hero." His voice twanged. "How can Dad believe him, after what he did?"

"What?" April asked. "What did he do?"

Jude sighed.

Any pang of guilt I felt for eavesdropping was overpowered by my desire to hear the answer to that question--and by burning jealousy that he might tell April the thing he'd refused tell me for three years.

Jude whispered something, and I leaned in closer to hear.

"Grace!" Mom shouted down the stairs. "Make sure you use stain spray."

I jumped back from the door and dropped my bundle. Jude's voice cut off, followed by shifting noises behind his door. I gathered up my clothes and hurried off to the laundry room.

LATER THAT NIGHT

Daniel was gone by the time I made it outside. He wasn't in the back or the front yard. Neither was Dad. It had been only about fifteen minutes since I'd seen them through the bathroom window, so I decided to take a car and track Daniel down at his apartment--catch him with my questions before he could skip town--but no keys were on the hooks. Dad kept the truck at the parish, and Jude must have still had the van keys. But strangely, the Corolla was not in the garage.

I resigned myself to the fact that any more searching would be futile, and decided to help Mom and Don Mooney clean up the dining room.

I wasn't surprised Don had stuck around. He'd probably ask to move into Jude's room when my brother went off to college next year. However, Don's idea of "cleaning" involved eating the food off of people's forgotten plates.

I reached for the half-empty goblet in front of him.

Don stopped picking at the Band-Aids on his arm and gave me a huge turkey-in-his-teeth grin. "You look real pretty tonight, Miss Grace."

I fingered my wet curls and wondered if I'd gained a new admirer for sticking up for him with my father the other day. "Thanks, Don," I mumbled, and picked up the goblet.

"You were real brave, too," he said, "going into the woods to find your brother. I wish I'd been there. I'd have protected you from the monster. My granddaddy told me how. He was a real hero." Don rubbed his injured arm against his chest.

I smiled. But then I thought of the jumbled contents of my father's office. Mom had taken a load of dishes into the kitchen, hut I lowered my voice just in case. "Don, while everyone was searching for James, did you go into the study?"

His eyes shifted sideways. "I ... I ... was just lookin' for something. I didn't mean to make such a mess. Everyone came back inside before I could clean up." He rocked in his chair like he was about to bolt.

Relief washed over me. "It's okay, Don." I smiled at him. "I won't tell anybody. But you really should put the knife back."

Don lowered his droopy eyelids. "Yes, Miss Grace."

Mom came back and noticed me fumbling her china plates with my bandaged hand and sent me off to bed. I went without protest, even though I didn't have much hope for sleeping--or much hope for anything else. Mom was upset with me for inviting Daniel over; Dad's roller coaster of despair had hit maximum velocity; my older brother was on the verge of a breakdown of his own; and Daniel was most likely gone. But at least I knew where that knife was. And it hadn't been stolen by some sinister intruder.

Strange--that was the first time I'd ever thought of Don as harmless.

I lay on top of my bed, my mind racing with all of the strange things that had happened during the day, until the house grew dark and silent. It felt like hours had passed since I heard Don make his loud good-byes. I was still in my clothes, so I decided to get up and change. I pulled off my overalls and shirt and found my most comfortable pair of pajamas. White fla

I turned and saw a dark silhouette outside my second-story window. I jumped and almost screamed. Images of the study's bloodstained windowsill ripped through my mind.

"Grace," came a muffled voice through the glass. The shadow moved closer to the window. It was Daniel.

Embarrassment replaced fear. I crossed my tingling arms in front of my chest--not that I had much to hide, but still. I turned my back to him and grabbed my terry-cloth robe. It was still damp from my shower, but I pulled it on anyway. I went to the window and pushed it open. "What are you doing here?"

Daniel balanced on the sloping roof outside my room. "I promised we'd talk." He stared at me through the thin mesh screen. "Can I come in?"

Chapter Thirteen

Hounds of heaven

ROOFTOPS

Heat flushed up my arms and chest. Fm sure I went as pink as my bra. I pulled my robe tighter around me. "I ... I can't let you in."

Mom hadn't made me promise, but I felt like I should respect her wishes not to invite Daniel in the house again. It was the least I could do for her now.

"Then you'll have to come out." With a flick of his hand, he pushed the screen out of my window. It landed at my feet, looking perfectly untouched. Not mangled and broken like the time Jude had shimmied the screen out of the study's window just below us. "Come on." He reached for me through the window frame.

Before I could even think, I put my hand in his. He pulled me up and out and into his arms. He held me to him, his fingers twisting with the sash of my robe against my back.

"I thought you were gone," I whispered.

"A promise is a promise." His breath warmed my damp hair. He grasped both of my hands and lowered me to sit next to him on the narrow eave of the roof. He wore jeans now and the red-and-black coat I'd given him. He hadn't had it with him when he showed up earlier for di

My robe wasn't as warm as a coat, and my feet were bare, but I didn't mind. "I'm glad you came back."

Daniel gri

"You're hurt." I touched his face.

He leaned his cheek into my hand.

"I'm sorry. You're hurt because of me. I'm the one who made up the story about the creek. I'm the one who made Jude--"