and a blazer, his reddish-brown hair curling into his eyes, which widened at the unexpected sight of her.
“Hannah.” His voice was the same as it had been when he was eighteen: throaty but kind. Hannah closed her eyes and, for a moment, could hear him all over again: Please, don’t leave. When she opened them, he hadn’t moved. In his hand, he held a badge.
Wyatt McCarran.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Then
June 2001
When Julia first suggested they ride their new bikes down Valley Road, Hannah had to admit she was skeptical. The road down was treacherous, and what could be so great about the small, dumpy street that was Rockwell? They’d been there with Aunt Fae, food shopping or running errands (or once visiting Aunt Fae’s kooky friend Jinny Fekete, who smelled like smoke and oil). But they’d never gone alone. They hadn’t needed to! They had each other, the forest, the river, the gardens, the castle. Why did they need to now?
Julia packed a backpack with sunscreen and towels, a book and sunglasses, and declared she was going with or without her sister.
“There’s a pool here.” Hannah wanted her sister all to herself. She wanted last summer all over again. She wanted to find the little door in the side of the hill. There had been a small winding creek that had a mouth at the Beaverkill a half mile through the woods. They were going to look at maps and figure it out.
A trip to the public pool wasn’t in the plans.
Julia laughed. “When it’s not turning blood red?” She hadn’t gone swimming since that day, despite Hannah’s pestering.
“It was a rust reaction, Jules. It’s not gross. Stuart had it cleaned up in a day.” Hannah tried to remember what Uncle Stuart had told them. “It was from copper, I think? He treated the pool that morning. Vacuumed out the sediment. It was an easy fix.”
“I don’t care. It looked like a crime scene. He has an excuse for everything that happens around here. They both do, and it’s not right. I’m going a little nuts at the thought of another summer. Okay?” Julia stopped throwing stuff into her bag and faced Hannah. “This place is just freaking me out.”
“Why, though?” Hannah felt the weirdness, too, but it never scared her exactly. Nothing truly bad had ever happened. She just knew she never felt alone, even in her room at night. “It’s not new. It’s just . . . Brackenhill.”
“Everything feels different this year. Something’s happened.” Julia sighed and shook her head. She started to speak and thought better of it. “I just . . . it doesn’t give you the creeps? We could be murdered, and no one would ever know. We’re so isolated.”
“Who would murder us?” Hannah threw her hands in the air. The whole conversation was infuriating! Honestly. They lived in a fairy tale three months a year, and Julia wanted to throw it all away for what? Drama. They both had that at home in spades.
“Please, Han? Please?” Julia placed her hands on Hannah’s shoulders. “Look, I just want something different, okay? We’ll come back and do all the things I know you want to. Just you and me. It’ll be like old times. But wouldn’t it be fun to find other people our age? We could have friends. A summer crew. Who knows? Maybe there’s a cute guy hiding down in Rockwell.”
Julia had gone boy crazy sometime in the last year. Josh Fink was always hanging around, and Hannah watched her sister flirt with everyone from lifeguards at the Y to the grocery baggers. Frankly, it was gross.
“Aunt Fae will kill us, you know.” It was a last-ditch effort, but Julia just shot her a look and shrugged.
“Then we won’t tell her.”
Fine. They’d go.
At the pool, Julia shucked her jean shorts and T-shirt to reveal a black ruffled bikini Hannah had never seen before, showing off a new deep well of cleavage that Julia was always adjusting, scrutinizing. Hannah wore her two-year-old racer-back Speedo and spent half the day pulling it out of her bottom.
Julia spread the towel on the grass and adjusted her sunglasses. She leaned back on her elbows and crossed her ankles. Her oily skin glistened in the sunlight.
“Don’t you want SPF?” Hannah asked her, but Julia didn’t bother to answer. “Is this what we’re going to do? Lie here? Like . . . old ladies?”
Julia dug into the bag, produced a ten-dollar bill, and handed it to Hannah.