John Saul - Hellfire

But still, there were some nice things in the jewelry box, and she was having a hard time trying to decide which ones to take. She had to leave a lot of it so no one would notice that some of it was gone, and she had to leave some of the best stuff, too.

Except that maybe she didn’t.

A lot of the stuff in the box that she really liked, she couldn’t remember her grandmother ever even wearing, so there was a good chance that her father wouldn’t remember it either.

And some of the things in the box had been her mother’s. She’d leave those — surely her father would give her mother’s jewelry to Carolyn.

She picked up a large jade pendant, carved so that it had a different pattern on each side, and held it up to her neck. The chain was a little too long, but that didn’t matter. The jade itself, she decided, was a perfect color for her — a very pale pink, and, when she held it up to the light, so transparent that the two patterns on either face combined to form yet a third. She opened her own jewelry box, lifted out the tray, and slipped the pendant into the tiny hidden compartment under what looked like the bottom of the case.

Suddenly there was a soft tapping at her door — two knocks, followed by a short silence, and then a third. It was the code she’d given Beth, telling her it would be a secret between them. And Beth, as Tracy had hoped, was too stupid to realize that all it did was give Tracy a chance to hide things before she let Beth into her room.

The whole thing her father had demanded had, in fact, been a lot easier than Tracy had thought it would be. It was almost like a game, and the object was to find out just how stupid Beth and Carolyn really were.

And with Beth, to find out how crazy she really was, so her father would finally have to send her away.

So far, it looked like they were even dumber than Tracy had thought, though she still hadn’t figured out how to get Beth talking about Amy again.

Beth, she’d decided, was really pathetic. When she’d opened the suitcase Beth had brought with her, it had been all she could do to keep from giggling out loud at the junk that was inside. It was nothing but faded jeans, and a bunch of blouses and dresses that had to have come from Penney’s. But she’d oohed and aahed and begged Beth to loan her some of the junk sometime, and Beth had fallen for it.

And then, this morning, Tracy had dug around in her closet until she’d found a dress she hadn’t worn for two years but hadn’t bothered to throw away yet, and offered it to Beth to wear to the funerals. The dress had looked awful on her, as Tracy had known it would, but Beth hadn’t noticed, and neither had her mother.

Instead, they’d both thanked her, as though she’d done something nice.

Now, as the knock at the door was repeated, Tracy shut her grandmother’s jewelry box, and hurriedly shoved it up on the closet shelf before unlocking the door and opening it. Beth stood in the corridor, her eyes wide. Her face was the color of putty. The dress Tracy had loaned her was on a hanger that Beth held high enough so the hem wouldn’t touch the floor.

“I … I got a spot on it,” Beth whispered, looking to Tracy like a frightened rabbit. “I’m sorry — I don’t know what happened.”

Tracy composed her features into an expression of what she hoped was generous forgiveness. “It’s all right,” she said. “I’m sure it won’t cost much to have it cleaned.” She saw no point in telling Beth she was going to throw the dress away anyhow. “Come on in.”

She opened the door wider, and Beth came into the could hardly wait to call Alison Babcock and tell her how Beth treated the old rag like it was a Halston gown.

“I … I’m really sorry about your grandmother,” Beth said as she started backing toward the door.

“It’s okay,” Tracy replied. “She was so old it’s a miracle she didn’t die years ago. I mean, it’s not like she was young, like your father.” Tracy forced herself not to snicker when Beth’s eyes flooded with tears. “I’m sorry,” she said quickly. “I guess you don’t want to talk about your father, do you?”

Beth quickly wiped the tears away, and managed a smile. “I just can’t think about him very much yet. But Mom says I’ll get over it.” Then she frowned uncertainly. “But I don’t know. It just hurts so much. Did you feel like that when your mom died?”

Tracy shrugged. “She died when I was born. I don’t even remember her. My grandmother raised me.”

Beth’s frown deepened. “Then how come you don’t miss your grandmother like I miss my father?”

“I told you. She was an old lady.” She glanced at Beth out of the corner of her eye, then did her best to work up some tears. “Besides, she didn’t love me anymore. She loved you more than she loved me.”

Beth gasped. “That’s not true—”

Now Tracy managed a little sob. “It is, too! She didn’t ask to see me when she was in the hospital. At least not the first night. She only wanted to see you.”

“But that was about—” And then Beth stopped short, afraid to speak the name that Tracy had used against her for so long.

“About Amy?” Tracy asked, her voice showing no hint of the mockery of the past.

Hesitantly, Beth nodded.

Tracy’s heart beat a little faster. She had to be careful now, or she might scare Beth off. “Grandmother talked about her,” she said, thinking as fast as she could. “She told me she wished you could come and live here again, because she wanted to know all about Amy.”

“She … she did?” Beth stammered, wondering if it could possibly be true, and if maybe Tracy didn’t think she was crazy anymore.

Tracy nodded solemnly, remembering her grandmother’s last words. Maybe she could use them to get Beth talking. “And she said there was a fire.” At the look in Beth’s eyes, she knew she’d struck a bull’s-eye.

“In the mill?” Beth breathed. “Did she really talk about the fire in the mill?”

Now Tracy hesitated. What if Beth was lying too, trying to trap her just as she herself was trying to trap Beth? But that was silly — Beth wasn’t smart enough to do that. “I think so,” she said. “When she was in the hospital, what did she tell you?”

“Nothing,” Beth replied, and Tracy’s heart sank. But then Beth spoke again. “Except that when she got home, she’d show me something that proved Amy’s real.”

A surge of excitement seized Tracy. It’s in the box , she thought. It’s in the box Grandfather was always going through .

But she said nothing.

It was a little past midnight. The house was silent, but from outside her open windows Tracy could hear the soft chirpings of crickets and the murmurs of tree frogs calling to their mates. Her feet bare, and only a light robe over her pajamas, she opened her closet and fished her grandmother’s jewelry box off the top shelf. Then she turned off the lights in her room, and carefully opened the door.

The corridor outside was dark, but Tracy didn’t even consider turning on the night-light on the commode. Her grandmother’s door was only thirty feet away, and she could have walked it blindfolded if she’d had to.

She was halfway down the hall, moving carefully to avoid bumping into the commode that stood at the midpoint, when she realized that the corridor was not completely dark after all. At the far end, there seemed to be a faint glowing, as if a dim light were spilling from beneath a door.

Her grandmother’s door.

She froze in the darkness, clutching the jewelry box tighter, her eyes fixed on the light. It seemed now to be flickering slightly. Why would there be light coming from her grandmother’s room? It was empty, wasn’t it?