“I hope everything works out for you,” Kadie said, giving her friend a hug.
“Thank you, Kadie. You’ve been a good friend. If you’d never come to Morgan Creek . . .” Her voice trailed off as the porch light came on.
Glancing past Nancy, Kadie saw a man staring at them out of one of the front windows.
“Time to go,” Saintcrow said. He pulled Nancy’s suitcase from the trunk and dropped it on the sidewalk, then pressed a wad of bills into Nancy’s hand.
Kadie felt the rush of his power as his mind brushed Nancy’s. Saintcrow pulled Kadie into the shadows when the front door opened.
The man who had been watching them from the window stepped onto the front porch, peering into the darkness. “Nancy? Nancy, honey, is that you?”
With a joyful cry, Nancy ran up the steps and into her father’s arms.
Kadie smiled, touched by the scene on the porch.
“You ready to go home?” Saintcrow asked.
“How are we going to get there?” Kadie had scarcely spoken the words when she felt an odd rush of wind in her face. The next thing she knew, she was standing in Saintcrow’s living room, wrapped in his arms. “How did you do that?” she asked when she’d gathered her wits about her.
He shrugged. “Talent.”
“Seriously, how did you do that?”
“I’m not sure. I just think about where I want to be, and I’m there. Comes in handy when you’re trying to outrun a mob wielding pitchforks.”
“Pitchforks?” Kadie asked, brows raised in amusement.
“Pitchforks. Swords. Torches. Wooden stakes. Holy water. You know, the good old days.”
“I can’t tell if you’re serious or just putting me on.”
“A little of both.”
“Sounds like you’ve had an exciting life. Or death,” she added with a grin.
“Yeah. Well, life and death got a whole lot more interesting when you showed up.”
“You made quite a change in my life, too.” With a sigh, she rested her cheek against his chest.
“I didn’t mean to complicate your life, Kadie.”
“I don’t mind so much anymore.”
“I’ll make it up to you one day, I promise.”
“Are we still leaving here tomorrow night?”
“Would you rather stay?”
“No. It’ll seem strange, though, not being here, not seeing everyone.” She looked up at him. “Will Rosemary and the others be all right, staying here by themselves?”
“I don’t know. I can’t predict the future. I’ll leave them some cash, gas up their cars, provide them with cell phones. The rest is up to them. I could be wrong, but I don’t think they’ll stay long, now that the others are gone.”
Cupping her chin in his palm, he smiled at her. “There’s a big world out there, Kadie. I look forward to seeing it anew through your eyes.”
In the morning, Kadie woke feeling excited at the prospect of going to England, and depressed at the thought of saying good-bye to those who had decided to stay in Morgan Creek. Since becoming a freelance photographer, she hadn’t spent much time at home. Her high school friends were all married now, raising families, caught up in their own lives. The ladies in town were the closest friends she’d had since college.
After breakfast, she folded her clothing and placed it in her suitcase. When that was done, she left the house. She spent the next few hours photographing every house and business in Morgan Creek; when she’d finished, she drove out of town and took photos of the countryside and the mountains. Driving back, she paused to take photos of Saintcrow’s lair from several angles, then drove back to town, stopping on the way to photograph Blair House.
Nearing the town, she wondered if Saintcrow expected her to leave her Durango here. She hated to leave it behind when she had paid it off only a few months ago.
It was a little after two when she pulled up in front of Brittany’s house. Not looking forward to saying good-bye, she knocked on the door.
Only, it was Donna who answered. “Kadie, I’m so glad you’re here.”
“What’s wrong?”
“Brittany . . . she’s . . .” Tears spilled down Donna’s cheeks and she dashed them away. “I think she’s . . . dead.”
“What? Where is she?”
“In her room. There’s an empty bottle of sleeping pills on the table beside her bed. She’s not breathing.”
Kadie hurried into Brittany’s room. She had never seen anyone who was dead before, but one look and she knew Brittany was gone. Whoever said dead people just looked like they were sleeping had never seen one. “Does anyone else know?”
Donna shook her head.
Blinking back her tears, Kadie drew the covers over Brittany.
“We need to tell the others,” Donna said, sniffling.
Nodding, Kadie said, “We’ll take my car.”
After picking up Rosemary and Shirley, Kadie drove to Donna’s house.
“What are we doing here?” Rosemary asked when Kadie pulled up in the driveway.
“We were all going to meet at Brittany’s house in just a few minutes,” Shirley added.
“There’s been a change in plans,” Kadie said as they trooped into the house.
Once inside, Donna glanced at Kadie. “You tell them.”
“Tell us what?” Rosemary asked sharply. “What’s wrong? Has Saintcrow changed his mind about leaving?”
“No.” Kadie took a deep breath. “Brittany took her own life last night.”
Shirley shook her head. “I don’t believe it.”
Rosemary’s eyes widened, and then she began to cry. “I should have known,” she said, sniffling.
“What do you mean?” Kadie asked.
“We had dinner together last night,” Rosemary said, wiping her eyes. “She was acting strange, kind of nervous and uptight. And she was drinking. A lot. Something she never did. I asked her several times what was bothering her, but she wouldn’t tell me.” She shook her head. “I knew something was wrong when we said good night. She hugged me and . . . thanked me for being her friend, and . . .” Rosemary buried her face in her hands. “I never should have left her alone.”
“You couldn’t have known what she intended,” Kadie said.
“But why?” Donna asked plaintively. “Why would she do such a thing now?”
It was the same question Kadie put to Saintcrow when he rose that night.