See Me, See Me Not Read online

  I’d meet her anywhere she asked me to, but if I said that she’d probably tell me to cut my crap. “Don’t you know, people always want what they feel they can’t have.”

  She purses her lips like she’s unsure of what to think. “Me meeting you there would be to help you get other girls?”

  I lean in closer to her, and the way she looks at me tells me she’s not unaffected. “Do you want the truth or the bullshit?”

  “Truth.” She breathes out.

  “That theory of wanting someone you can’t have is great for movies, but bullshit in reality. I want someone who gets me. Someone who asks questions and who isn’t afraid to care. Someone with shorts like yours,” I add and she swats my arm. I grab her hand and my heart beats so loud I’m sure she can hear it. She doesn’t pull away from me. “I’d like to spend more time with you, and maybe meeting at the bonfire could be fun.”

  She gently pulls away but she can’t hide the way she blushes. She forces the door to her old car open. It has seen better days. “I’ll try.”

  And she hops into her car, leaving me behind. My own car is parked a few spots away. It’s an old Charger but it runs nicely. Uncle John gave it to me when I first came to live with him. He said it was his old car. He asked that I repair it with Dimitri’s father and pay for the parts. I’m slowly paying my debt.

  It takes about thirty minutes to go to the meeting place with Lila. But before heading there, I walk behind The Flying Pig, cross the parking lot and enter the police station.

  “Hi honey, how can help you?” the receptionist asks me with a warm yet guarded smile. It reminds me of the smiles I first got from teachers at school. Like my file may have been heavy with details, but maybe I wasn’t all that dangerous. I worked hard to catch up and I worked hard on my issues. Still a work in progress.

  “Can I talk to my uncle?” In the air-conditioned station, the wave of food smells and grease coming from my clothes reminds me I need to put on a bit more Axe before going to visit Lila, even though last time she said I used way too much.

  The receptionist calls my uncle and hangs up, nodding her head. “Sure thing. He’s on his way.”

  After a few minutes, he marches toward me. Not sure if he has any other way of walking but purposefully, like he knows where he’s going every single second of the day.

  “Let’s talk outside,” he says without barking, which I take as a positive sign.

  Dust gathers on the parking lot and the slight breeze pushes some of it around. The crowd at The Flying Pig seems to be thinning.

  He leans against the wall and crosses his arms on his chest. “You want to know about the Garner girl.”

  “I want to know if you think that woman is legit. And not just what you told her mom.”

  “I can’t go into details but I’m definitely not convinced. Some of the info she mentioned was in online forums and I’m trying to figure out where she got the rest.” He nods to Mr. Walker, his second at the station, who’s pulling into his parking spot.

  Mr. Walker’s shoulders are broad, his smile is easy but once he gets closer, I notice sweat pearling on his dark black skin. I’ve never seen him sweat before, even when they were chasing a serial killer.

  “Hi, Mr. Walker,” I say and his handshake is strong despite his clear worry.

  “Hi Luke, how was your first day at work?” His smile is only tentative and he glances at my uncle.

  “Good, thank you, sir.”

  “John, can I have a minute?” he asks my uncle, who nods.

  “I’ll be right there,” my uncle answers. Ever since they got the Angel Killer last year, my uncle and Mr. Walker have been friendlier toward one another. My uncle told me Mr. Walker—Tyrik—was a wonderful football player once and is the only one he really trusts. “I have to go back to work. I promise you I’ll check on that woman more, but tell Tessa to not to think this is the key to her sister’s case.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Sure. Be careful as always when you go see Lila,” he adds. And before I can reiterate the rules, he does it for me. “If you see anyone following you, you come back here—to the station—and you call me. If you see your mom, you call me and you do not talk to her.”

  “I know.” My throat tightens. When I moved in with him, I told him how worried I was they would come after me, find Lila and drag us back to whatever compound they were now calling home. Both he and the FBI reassured me, saying my stepdad probably has it easier without me around.

  The FBI’s been tracking them, but last I heard the group split into smaller groups a month ago. They’re not sure why yet and they’re working on locating all of them. If Mom really wanted to find us, she’d have come by already, but she hasn’t. And sometimes, I’m not sure if I’m relieved or angry.

  Uncle John clears his throat. “And stay out of trouble.” His tone is serious—like he means business, even though he hasn’t grounded me once since I moved in with him.

  I raise an eyebrow. “I always do.”

  He shakes his head and opens the door to the station. “Why does the principal call me at least once every two weeks then?”

  “Because other people want trouble?”

  “Don’t be a smart-ass.” His tone is harsher but ever since the Angel Killer got caught last year, he’s more thoughtful, more careful. Granted, he’s not singing happy songs or asking a lot of questions, but he’s almost more protective. He’s been spending any and all spare time looking for Mom and Lacey too, talking to his contacts at the FBI. Without any success. Mom and the others don’t want to be found.

  “Never,” I reply but even though I try to sound innocent, he’s not fooled. I hurry back to my car and text Tessa before driving off.

  I really hope to see you tonight.

  Chapter Eighteen - Tessa

  My fingers fumble with the radio. I need music to distract myself. I sing along to one of the latest pop songs, lowering my window and letting my hand out, enjoying the feel of the warm air between my fingers. It reminds me of the warmth of Luke’s touch. The drive from The Flying Pig to our mobile home takes ten minutes but I take a quick detour. I pass by the grocery store to make sure Mom’s car is in the parking lot. When I see the faded blue paint of her Honda, I breathe more easily.

  I’m always worried Mom’s going to take off again and look for Mellie by herself. She did that last year after finding out the Angel Killer wasn’t responsible for her disappearance. She left me a note telling me she’d be back. She took her car to plaster the nearby towns with posters. When I found her, tears were rolling down her face and I don’t think she had eaten in thirty-six hours.

  “I’m sorry, baby girl,” she whispered in my ear as I wrapped my arms around her. “I’m sorry.” And I didn’t know if she was apologizing for leaving me behind or for not finding my sister.

  Every single time Mom gets some sort of news, I always make sure I know where she is.

  I back out of the parking lot, somewhat relieved. I turn up the music even louder. I need to drown my thoughts in the rhythm.

  I turn into our mobile home park. The sign “Overlook Mobile Homes” hanging at the entrance is crooked. Underneath, there’s another sign signaling that rentals are available and that the park offers free WiFi. It’s true, but the connection can be quite spotty.

  The playground on the right by the big oak tree is full of kids running around and having fun. My eyes scan the area, out of habit, to make sure no one lurks around them. Once I’m reassured, I park right in front of our home and smile at the text Luke sent me.

  I grab the piece of cake I brought back for Mrs. Fernandéz and my apron, which doesn’t weigh as much as it should. With all the drama, I’m definitely short on tips today. I open the front door carefully, making sure to slide in as quickly as possible. Buster rushes to me and jumps on me, his tail wagging like he hasn’t seen me in forever.

  “I hope you didn’t have any accidents, little boy.” Buster is the cutest with his floppy ears and brown eye
s, but it took me forever to teach him to do his business outside.

  The fridge is pretty empty. I should remind Mom to pick up something for tonight. I put the piece of cake on the middle shelf and grab Buster’s treats. “Come on, let’s go.” I put his harness and leash on and take him for a quick walk behind our trailer. The dirt path between the fields is his favorite place. He could sniff there for hours. There’s a rustle behind me and I freeze. Buster pulls on the leash, not barking and I relax my shoulders, slowly turning around to make sure no one is following us. A bird flies off in the sky. Free.

  I keep my eyes on him for a few seconds, but Buster brings me back to reality with his barks. “What’s going on?” I ask in a loud voice even though my throat tightens. I struggle to swallow. Ever since Mellie disappeared, my body is on high alert when I’m alone. My ear’s trained for the odd noise. My eyes search for the unknown person. Even though with everything that’s happened last year, I should know evil finds a cozy nest in people close to you.

  Someone clears their throat and I jump up. Buster growls, which he very rarely does, and my blood freezes in my veins. “What do you want?” Faye stands in front of me.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Faye smiles—and even though it’s a warm smile, the hair on my arms rise. “I was driving to the small RV place not far from here and I saw the sign for your mobile home park.”

  “And you happened to park and walk the fields right behind our house?” My tone is deprecating to say the least. Buster—traitor of a dog—wags his tail.

  “I have two dogs.” She looks up at me and seems lost in her own memories. “Dory and Nemo.” She chuckles but then wipes tears from her eyes. “My son named them. He’s a good boy. He’s a sick boy. He needs help.” Her voice cracks. She sounds desperate.

  “I’m sorry,” I whisper, not sure of what else to say or do.

  She shakes her head. “It’s going to be okay. I sensed you were doubtful of my talents and gifts. Your mom’s ready to take the next step but you’re not. This may be your only chance.” A door opens in the distance. Probably Mrs. Fernandéz checking on me, and Faye shivers. Her dark eyes dart behind her and then back to me. She grabs one of my hands. And I jerk away. There’s desperation in her voice. “There’s not much time. I can help you. I really can.” She pauses and then opens her mouth as if to say something else, but instead she pets Buster for a second, as if the repetitive movement is a way to calm herself. “I’ll be back tomorrow to see your mom and maybe your father. I hope you won’t work against me. Against finding Mellie.”

  “I still don’t understand why you have to wait to tell us where Mellie is. We’ll give you money after. We’ll give you everything we have if we can find her.” I’m not sure if I’m angry or anxious.

  Her lips quiver but she straightens her spine. “If only it were that easy…it’s not. I know she’s alive but I need more time to narrow down where she’s staying.” She pauses. “I talk too much. I should go. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  She gives one last pet to Buster and hurries back to her RV.

  Mrs. Fernandéz stands at her window, waves at me. I pull Buster with me. My heart is in my throat and my thoughts jump around in my mind. I’m not sure what to believe.

  “How was your day, cariño?” Mrs. Fernandéz leans against her opened door. “Who is this woman?”

  “It was eventful. And I’m not sure about her.” Her RV is already out of sight. “I did get you a slice of cake though. Diego also said…”

  “Diego worries too much. That boy needs to go and have fun. Just like you do.”

  “Well…I was wondering. Maybe you could eat the cake while watching TV with Mom tonight?” I tilt my head to the side and her eyes widen.

  “Are you thinking about going out tonight?” Her voice is full of genuine happiness for me.

  “I am. There’s the bonfire. Erin and Dimi are going to be there.”

  “I like them. Three weeks ago, in town, Dimi helped me with my groceries. Such a nice boy.” She winks. “I have a feeling another nice boy is going to be there tonight too.”

  I shrug. “Maybe. But don’t get your hopes up.”

  Her smile is full of dreams. “I could be a thousand years old and still believe in hope.”

  Hope. My shoulders tense and my tone turns bitter. “With the good it’s been doing Mom.”

  “It’s been keeping her moving. It’s a way for her to honor your sister, to make sure she’s never forgotten.” My shoulders slump and she gently touches my face. Her accent thickens with each word. “You’re not forgetting either.”

  “I wish I could help her more.”

  “You do. More than you can ever imagine. You remind me of Diego’s mom—Gilma: always there for me, without a protest, without fuss. But sometimes you need to let the pain through the cracks of your armor. Your mom can help you too.”

  “So why don’t you want to move in with Gilma and Diego?”

  “He asked you to ask me, didn’t he?” Her smile widens, but she doesn’t answer my question. Instead, she nods toward our trailer. “I’ll come over tonight and watch the latest episodes of El Amor del Diablo with your mama.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Anything for you.”

  She heads back inside after giving a treat to Buster. One of her homemade peanut butter dog cookie she bakes for him. I could stay and chat with her until Mom gets back from work, but I force myself to go back home, sit on my bed and dial Dad’s number.

  “Hey, Dad.” I can’t disguise the worry in my voice.

  “Hi, Tessie. What’s going on? Are you still coming over next week?”

  “That’s the plan.” And then I tell him about the psychic, the money, the hope. Hope again.

  “I’ll call your mom. I’m going to head your way tomorrow to meet her and that woman. I’ll go to church with your mom and try to talk to her about being reasonable. Will you come with us?”

  “I have to work.” I do, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t go. My relationship with God is more than complicated.

  “Okay.” His tone is knowing. “What do you think about this new psychic?”

  “I’m not sure. She seems sick or something. Her hands shake and her skin is grayish. She’s intense.”

  Buster barks and grabs one of his toys. I get up and stride to the kitchen to throw it in the tiny living/dining area. “I have to go, Dad. Thanks for coming tomorrow.”

  “Of course. Your mom and I both love you and even though we’re not always on the same page, we’d do anything for you and to find your sister.”

  “I know.” My gaze travel to the pictures Mom keeps in the kitchen. All of us together. A happier time. Mom and Dad were high school sweethearts. They went to prom together. They went to college together. Losing Mellie tore them apart.

  “All right, baby girl, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I hang up and take out the business card Faye gave me at the restaurant.

  I breathe in and out and type her website in my browser. It’s dark blue and has arrays of light shooting through. It looks more professional than some of the ones I’ve looked at before. There was one guy—who claimed he could hear Melanie talk to him in his dreams—who had a website on his business card that was actually an escort service. Another group of clairvoyants, as they called themselves, had a website as well, but their page didn’t have any information, except a link to a review site that gave them very poor ratings for being frauds.

  Not so trust inspiring, that’s for sure.

  Faye has a clean website but not much information on it. She has a picture of her son with their dogs. “My sick Martin needs as many positive vibes as possible. His surgery is very expensive. We accept all donations.”

  She has pictures of a couple with their arms around a younger girl with a short testimonial. “Faye helped us find our Cassandra. We can’t thank her enough.” But there’s no info about where they’re from, what Faye did, what happened.

  I watched
enough Catfish episodes while working at the gas station to know what to do. I google search the image and find that picture is used in hundreds of websites.

  She doesn’t know anything.

  She’s another fraud.

  Maybe that’s why she looked so afraid or worried when she came over to talk to me. She had to know I’d check her website. She had to know I wouldn’t just accept whatever she’s saying.

  Bullshit.

  Nervous energy slams through my veins. I need to move. I need to do something. Mom still won’t believe me. She’s convinced the details Faye gave means she knows exactly where Mellie is.

  Lies.

  I text Erin. I’ll be there tonight.

  She replies almost right away. Great! Do you need a ride?

  Thanks. But I’ll take my car. I don’t want to be a burden. Dimi has been very busy with the football spring training, prepping for his school’s spring game, and he hasn’t been able to come home in over two weeks. We’re meeting at the lake?

  Sounds like a plan.

  Ok. See you there at 7pm.

  I check my emails again, but no answer. I text Luke quickly to tell him I’ll be there.

  See you tonight.

  His reply is short and I can’t read much into it so instead, I settle on my bed with Buster next to me and grab my backpack, trying to catch up on AP English, but Medea by Euripides can’t hold my attention. My eyes are trained on Mellie’s side of the room.

  Imagining what it’d be like if she were home.

  Chapter Nineteen – Mellie

  One should not fear the end of the world.

  One should prepare for the end of the world.

  The fire which cleansed our souls will cleanse our bodies.

  (The Circle’s Book of Truth – Rule Fifteen)

  Jeremiah’s been silent almost the entire day. He read The Book of Truth for what seemed like forever but based on the clock was only an hour. I didn’t know if I should tackle my chores or sit still. I waited until his shoulders seemed more relaxed.

  Usually, he teaches me the history of the middle ages on Saturdays. Today, he simply gave me the book and told me to read one chapter. Pages have been ripped from the textbook. His name is on the first page.