Scent of the Roses, page 4
She knew she was ranting but couldn’t seem to stop. “She just didn’t want me around. After everything that happened, she didn’t want me getting anywhere within miles of Oberon, ever again. And now— How the hell can I allow Donahue to have Lisa declared legally dead? Why not just come right out and say I killed her! It’s the same thing, as far as I’m concerned.”
Glenn looked stunned. “But…no. That’s ridiculous. What are you saying? That it was Caroline’s intention to hurt you? I’m sure that wasn’t the case.”
“Oh, no?”
“Look, Scout… I think we all have to accept that Lisa’s dead. I mean, after all this time? She must be, right?”
No! Scout pushed the anguish to the back of her mind and scowled. “I’m sure that’s easy for you to say. Nobody’s ever blamed you for what happened to her.”
“Scout, I—”
“Caroline blamed me for all of it—right from the start. And now you expect me to believe she’d simply changed her mind, at some point? And left me everything? Why would she do that?”
“Omigod, are you serious?”
Scout jumped at the sound of Robyn’s voice. Damn, I forgot she was even here.
“Who else would she leave her stuff to? You’re her daughter!”
“Stepdaughter.” Scout and Glenn corrected automatically, at the same time.
Robyn rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah; whatever. The point I’m trying to make is that whatever else might have happened, you two were family. Caroline loved you.”
“Oh, please.” Scout shrugged dismissively. “Family? Love? What could you possibly know about that?”
Robyn flushed bright red. “Oh! That— that’s harsh. How could you? I don’t know what you think you know about me, but just because I was adopted it doesn’t mean I don’t have a family.” Her voice shook with emotion. “Just because I didn’t go home for the summer doesn’t mean that I can’t. Or that—” She stopped suddenly, tears gleaming in her eyes.
Scout was mortified. “Oh, hell. Robyn, I didn’t mean that. Look, I’m sorry. I wasn’t talking about you, honest. I was talking about Caroline and me. And you couldn’t possibly know anything about that.”
Robyn wiped at her eyes. “Oh, no?”
“No. Our relationship was weird, okay? To be honest, I’m not sure myself how things were between us. And I don’t know why Caroline left things the way she did, but trust me, everything is not what it seems.”
“Maybe. But I lived with Caroline for almost two years, you know. We talked a lot. She told me all sorts of stuff about you and your stepsister. I bet I know more than you think I do.”
“Is that so?” Scout poured herself another glass of wine. Her hands were shaking again, and even the dog was watching her with a worried look on its face. “You know, Robyn, I hate to burst your pretty little bubble, but believe me, Caroline wasn’t always as warm and fuzzy as you’re making her out to be. She talked to you, did she? Well, I’d love to hear how she explained kicking me out of her house when I was just sixteen. And less than a week after my dad died, at that. She loved me? How can you say that?”
As old aches stirred to life, Scout glared at the other woman. “For twenty years, we hardly spoke. If she cared so much, then why didn’t she ever invite me to come back – not even for one little visit?”
“Well, probably because she was afraid something might happen to you, right?” Robyn explained carefully, as if she was speaking to a small child. “You know, because of that guy and all.”
Scout looked at Glenn and felt an unexpected surge of empathy. She was sure her face wore a look of blank confusion that was identical to his.
“Uh, Robyn? Exactly what guy would that be?” she prompted.
“The guy,” Robyn repeated, as though she’d just realized that the small child was also not too terribly bright. “You know. The one who was after you? I think she was afraid he might have been the same guy who’d kidnapped Lisa.”
Once again, Scout found herself exchanging puzzled looks with Glenn. This time, she let him give voice to the thoughts they were both thinking.
“Lisa wasn’t kidnapped. She ran away.” His voice was as flat as his gaze. “And, just for the record, this is the first I’m hearing about anyone being ‘after’ Scout.”
For an instant, in the face of Glenn’s surety, Robyn’s confidence faltered. But only for an instant. “Well, maybe…maybe Caroline just didn’t tell you about it. You ever think of that? Maybe she didn’t want to scare you.”
“Scare me with what?” Scout replied. “There was no guy. No one was after anybody. There was nothing to be scared of!”
“Well, Caroline thought there was,” Robyn insisted stubbornly. “She said people had been murdered. I think she was afraid that you and Lisa had somehow gotten mixed up in it.”
This time, when Scout turned to look at Glenn, she was startled by the thoughtful, almost speculative look on his face.
“Don’t tell me you’re listening to this?” she demanded.
“There were rumors at the time,” he said slowly, his attention seemingly focused on the glass in his hand. “Not that I paid any attention to them, of course.”
“Rumors? About me and Lisa being murderers?”
“No, of course not. Nothing like that. About some…well…some unsavory activities that might or might not have been going on at your school. Devil worship. Blood sacrifices. Ritual killings. Stuff like that.”
“Oh, please,” Scout scoffed. “And I was involved in this, how exactly?”
Glenn sighed. “Not you, Scout. The rumors were about some of your friends.”
1 Ah, the Montero. The Yuppy Status Car. It was a nice looking vehicle. Unfortunately, Mitsubishi stopped making then in 2006.
2 In Celtic Mythology, the Cwn Annwn, or Hell Hounds, are a pack of spectral dogs—white with red ears—that accompany the Lord of the Underworld as he rides through the skies from during the winter months. I’m not saying Scout’s dog is a literal hell hound, but given all the trouble I knew she’d be getting into, I figured she could use a little supernatural security. You can read more about Annwn in my book IRON, in which the Lord of the Underworld goes in search of a wife.
3 Merlot was actually very popular at the time Scent of the Roses was first published. Which was a year before the movie Sideways was released. I think if it had been published even a couple of years later, I would have had to given Scout a different wine to drink.
No Monteros, no merlot. We lost so much in the 00s. ;)
4 Like this line? You can thank my sister for it. lol!
3
How many times have I dreamed this? Scout thought, as she roamed restlessly through the old house that had once been home. She slid her fingers gently down the aged oak of a doorframe as she passed through it. Ran a hand lightly across the back of an old leather chair in the library. Paused again in front of the fireplace to admire the play of light upon the red marble hearthstones.1
They were not just dreams and memories now, but the things themselves, fresh and real and right there in front of her. Full of details she’d half forgotten. Like the cracked varnish on the roll top desk, the missing crystal knob on the dining room breakfront, or the clouded glass of the mirror in the downstairs bathroom.
As she made her way from room to room, she ignored the eyes that followed every move she made. Eyes with all the color and compassion of beaten gold. They glared balefully at her from every angle. From the top of the china cabinet. From the landing in the hall. Beneath the dining room table. Behind the piano. Caroline’s cats. All from the same litter, she’d been told. All with the same hard, reproachful, yellow eyes.
“Wait a minute,” she’d demanded of Robyn, when the subject had come up earlier in the evening. “How many cats are we talking about?”
“Eight.” Robyn’s brow creased as she thought about it. “No, nine if you count the mother cat, but to tell you the truth, I’m not even sure which one she is. They were already here when I moved in. She was a stray and I guess already pregnant when she turned up.”
“Some stray cat had her kittens here and Caroline couldn’t be bothered to find homes for them—is that what you’re telling me? And now I’m supposed to figure out what to do with them?”
Robyn looked surprised. “Well… I mean, you know what she was like, right? Caroline was always taking in strays. And she was way too softhearted to turn them over to Animal Control. You wouldn’t have expected her to just…get rid of them, would you?”
“Oh, no, of course not. Whatever was I thinking?” Scout resisted the impulse to mention that Caroline hadn’t been so softhearted when it had come to getting rid of her.
Of course, to be fair, Caroline must have been devastated by the loss of her daughter. And believing it to have been Scout’s fault? Having to endure her presence must have been unbearable. But what Scout had never been able to forgive, or even understand, was that Caroline blamed her, not just for what happened to Lisa, but for her father’s death, as well.
The night before her father’s funeral Caroline had marched into Scout’s room and ordered her to start packing…
“I’ve made arrangements for you to stay with your grandfather,” she’d told her, in a voice that brooked no argument. “You have a flight out the day after tomorrow.”
What? For an instant Scout had been too stunned to respond. No! “But…I don’t want to go away. Why can’t I stay here?”
“Please don’t make this more difficult than it already is,” Caroline said quietly. Her face betrayed no emotion, she held herself rigidly erect. Only her hands, twisting restlessly together at her waist, gave any sign of her inner agitation. “You just can’t stay here anymore, Scout. That’s all there is to it.”
“Why are you doing this? This is my home.”
“There have been far too many problems with you, lately. So much has gone wrong. It’s not safe having you here. After your father’s death I realized—”
“But what does…that…have to do with me?”
“Because it should have been you,” Caroline hissed, her icy control slipping suddenly. “Don’t you understand that? It was your car. You were the one who ought to have been driving it, who should have died that night— Not Gil. You!”
Her voice broke, and she hurried from the room leaving Scout to stare after her in dismay. Far down the hall, she could hear the slam of Caroline’s door closing behind her. She felt an echo, deep in the recesses of her heart. As though another, internal door had slammed shut, as well. Up until that moment, she’d always believed Caroline loved her.
A high-pitched keening split the silence, snapping Scout’s mind back to the present. She shivered. Somewhere, a window had been left open. The damp night air pushed its way into the house. Heavy, moist and loamy, it carried the scent of roses in from the garden, along with the fretful, seesaw whine of myriad night insects. 2
Somewhere, two cats challenged each other. Their eerie cries abraded Scout’s over-worked nerves like nails on a blackboard.
Caroline’s cats, Scout thought as she teetered on the brink of panic. Caroline’s cats. Caroline’s roses. Caroline’s garden. Caroline’s dog. Caroline’s house. All mine now.
A wave of guilt washed through her. Mine and Lisa’s. If Lisa was still alive. And if she could be found. A foghorn sounded in the distance, low and mournful. Scout shivered once again.
Lisa had been seventeen when she ran away, following an argument between them. Scout had always taken it for granted that Lisa had been found, or that she’d returned on her own. After all, what purpose had her banishment been meant to serve, if not to bring Lisa back?
In a letter mailed to Lucy a few days after her disappearance, Lisa made it clear that she blamed Scout for everything that had gone wrong in her life recently. She was not the only one. Practically everyone Scout knew seemed to feel that, with the sole, possible exception of her math teacher’s murder, Scout was the one at fault for everything.
Well, okay, she’d told herself. If that’s how it’s gonna be. I’ll just find a way to live with it.
It was mostly true, after all. Not the part about her father’s death—she refused to accept the blame for that. And not the part about her having seduced Lisa’s boyfriend away from her, either.
No seduction had been necessary. Glenn had jumped at the chance to go to bed with her. Just as Scout had known he would.
She sank wearily down on the couch in front of the fireplace and considered some of the choices she’d made back then. Sleeping with Glenn Gilchrist had definitely not been one of her brighter ideas. Blond, blue-eyed, with the face of an angel and a surfer’s tan, Glenn had looked like the quintessential California beach boy.
It had seemed that every teenage girl in Oberon had been half in love with him. And, at first, Scout had been no exception. But Glenn had been Lisa’s boyfriend for almost a year; and Scout had seen how he treated her. Under normal circumstances, he was one of the last people she would have chosen to go to bed with. But circumstances that spring were anything but normal.
In a town the size of Oberon, it’s hard to keep a secret for very long, even a small one. And as far as secrets went, Scout’s was pretty big. Her friends had already begun to suspect she was involved with someone, but no one had a clue who that someone might be. Scout had done what she had to do to keep things that way, even though it meant lying to everyone – including her mysterious new boyfriend, who had no idea the girl he was seeing had only just turned sixteen.
Nick Greco was exciting and dangerous, devastatingly attractive and totally unobtainable, with unruly, thick, brown waves of hair and eyes the color of warm honey. Eyes that were even more unsettling than the mirrored sunglasses he was seldom without.
At twenty-two, he should have been completely off-limits, but Scout had been ready to test every limit she could find that spring. The fact that he was also Lucy’s cousin, and a cop, only made him more desirable, as far as Scout was concerned.
If pretending to sneak around with Glenn would keep everyone from finding out about Nick, then that’s what she would do. And if sleeping with Glenn was necessary? Well, even that would be worth it.
God, I was so young back then. Young and stupid. She’d thought she could get away with anything. She’d never imagined how much her fun was going to cost, or how many people would end up having to pay for it. She’d learned about that the hard way.
And she’d had the last twenty years to reflect on all the careless, life-changing, devastating mistakes she’d made in one six-week period in the spring of her seventeenth year.
The sound of the front door opening startled Scout out of her reverie. She looked up as Robyn peeked into the living room.
“You’re still awake?”
Robyn appeared greatly astonished by this. Scout suppressed a groan. I bet she’s always astonished. Astonished or gleeful or some other unbearably perky emotion. Scout found her quite astonishingly tiring. Small wonder Caroline had a stroke. If I stay here much longer, I might have one, as well.
She forced her mouth to form a polite smile. “I never sleep very much,” she lied. “Don’t seem to need it somehow.” No, not much.
“Oh. Well, okay then. Thanks for letting me borrow the dog. I really like taking her along when I have to be out late at night. She’s such excellent protection, you know.”
“Yeah, sure, but listen,” Scout insisted—ignoring the absurdity of anyone’s needing protection here. “It’s like I told you. If you want her, she’s yours. I honestly don’t know what I’m going to do with a dog, anyway.”
“Oh, no!” Robyn replied, looking as if she were on the verge of a cardiac arrest. “No, I couldn’t possibly do that! I know Caroline would have wanted you to have her!”
Scout shook her head in resignation. What Caroline might or might not have wanted for her was not something she was willing to think about, at present. It was not even something she was sure she should care about.
“Well, I’ll see you in the morning,” Robyn announced brightly as she headed off to bed. There were four bedrooms on the second floor, all of them currently vacant. Caroline had apparently encouraged Robyn to sleep downstairs, in a room that had previously functioned as a rec. room.
Scout remembered it well. A large, sunny room, with a view of the gardens visible through French doors that opened onto the patio, it had been decorated with the most hideously garish flowered wallpaper, flowered upholstery and drapes, and Caroline’s collection of antique floral prints.
The relentless insistence of the flower motif – flowers everywhere, both inside and outside the room – suddenly struck Scout as being wildly ironic. She was shocked to find herself giggling hysterically as she wondered if the decor had in any way contributed to her decision to allow Glenn to deflower her there?
Oh, fuck, no. Scout pulled herself together with an effort, as the memories she’d evoked set her skin to crawling. What in the hell is wrong with me tonight? She hated that term. She never, ever used it. And she had never, except in her most paranoid moments, ever questioned her motives for that afternoon with Glenn.
It’s the lack of sleep. That’s all it is. For days now, ever since she had heard from Caroline’s lawyer, in fact, she’d found it impossible to sleep for more than a couple of hours at a time. She refused to even consider any kind of medication. She’d always feared the resultant loss of control so much more than she did the loss of clarity and common sense that accompanied chronic sleep deprivation. But she had tried almost everything else she could think of. Long walks, herb tea, hot baths, warm milk, dull books, strong drinks – nothing had helped. And now, she was obviously well on her way to losing her mind.
Her giggling had gotten the dog’s attention. The creature ambled over and nudged Scout’s hand with her wet nose. She was a very sweet dog. But Scout had no use for dogs, or for pets of any kind. Didn’t like them. Didn’t need them. Didn’t want the complications and responsibilities that went with having them. Her life was simple. Peaceful. It was perfect just the way it was.
