In the Arms of Stone Angels

chapter eighteen


With the rest of Grams’s house dark after Mom had gone to bed, Joe and I worked at the kitchen table under a soft light, surrounded by shadows. It was late and I was exhausted, but I forced myself to work. Joe had been pleased to hear that a grizzly bear had been my guide for part of the journey. White Bird had claimed the bear clan as his, so maybe the bear had chosen him, too.

But the mutant menagerie of animals in my vision was what had interested Joe the most.

Since he had a theory that White Bird had been a potential witness to Heather’s murder—and not the killer—Joe thought that his mind might have projected the images in my vision as a way of communicating with me. White Bird might have been trying to tell me what he’d seen.

“Do you think he’d remember what happened now?” I asked. “I mean, he’s not zoned out anymore. Why can’t he just tell the sheriff what he saw?”

“He was under the influence of peyote. He wouldn’t make a reliable witness anyway.” Joe shook his head. “The symbols you described might have been buried deep in his mind or maybe they came from you and your experiences. You gotta remember that he’s been trapped in his vision for two years. If his experience was anything like mine, he’ll have holes in his memory that he’ll never get back,” he explained. “Visions don’t work like a video. They’re only suggestions to be interpreted.”

I got what he meant. I couldn’t go to the cops and report a giant spider attack without taking a serious Breathalyzer test or being checked for Mad Cow. What I saw had been some form of communication, from White Bird or from my subconscious. So we peeled back the layers of my vision and focused on the images that were most dangerous to me—the horse, the jackal and the spider that was too big for me to squash.

Joe told me that the stallion in a dream or vision symbolized power and male sexuality. And the fact that the horse was breathing fire and glowed red was also a sign of aggression or danger or blood.

“The horse was definitely aggressive. It barged in like it had the right. A real…” I stopped before I said it.

“A real what?” Joe asked. “Say the first thing that comes to your mind.”

“A real bully, was what I was going to say.” When I nodded, he didn’t need to make his point. He knew I got it.

“What else?” he prompted.

“The jackal I saw in my vision had gray eyes. It reminded me of someone.”

He nodded and smiled. “The jackal is a scavenger,” he said. “It eats other animals to live. In Egypt, Anubis was the jackal god. He was the guardian to the underworld. But no matter how well the Egyptians sealed their tombs, those damned jackals always found their way in for takeout.”

“Thanks for the history lesson, but I have a hard enough time sleeping.” I grinned. “So tell me about that damned spider. If Jade is the jackal, which I totally get, seeing the way she feeds on other people. And Derek is that stud stallion. Who is the spider? I’m having trouble with that one.”

“The spider weaves a pretty web of illusion that’s a trap for its prey,” he said, but when I still didn’t come up with anything, he asked, “Any other distinguishing marks on that spider? If the jackal had gray eyes, maybe you’re leaving something out about the bug.”

I ran a hand through my hair and nodded.

“Yeah, you’re right. The spider had red on its back. It looked like a splatter of paint, but I remembered flashing back to that field of red flowers, ’cause they stank like blood. And come to think of it, that spider had green eyes, too.”

When I looked up, I saw movement in the shadows behind Joe. At first, I thought Mom had come back downstairs, but when the room got chillier, I knew it wasn’t my mother creeping around in the dark.

It was Heather.

She drifted through the gloom, weaving in and out of the dark like she was playing a macabre game of hide-and-seek. Joe didn’t react to the dead girl in the room. Guess he didn’t see or sense her.

“You know who it is, don’t you?” he said, like he had read my mind. He was getting vibes off me, not the spirit that had joined us.

“Yeah…and I’m looking at her, right now.” I looked past Joe and glared at Heather.

After Joe glanced over his shoulder and didn’t seem to know where to look, he turned back around and said, “Guess I need 3-D glasses. Now you know what to get me for Christmas. Tell me about her.”

Heather had been the clacking spider that almost killed me. I stared her straight in those green eyes of hers, and I knew it had been her in my vision. And from the expression on her face, she wasn’t denying it. Although ghosts didn’t talk, they also didn’t have reason to lie.

“You little…” When I glared at her, a sad smile nudged her lips and she shrugged.

Guess that was her way of saying sorry. Heather was as nasty dead as she was alive. Some things never change.

“The spider was Heather,” I said. “But if White Bird didn’t kill her, does that mean Jade or Derek did it?” I was asking Joe, but I kept my eyes on Heather.

“Don’t jump to conclusions. We may not have all the moving parts to this thing.”

I could tell by Heather’s reaction that Joe was right. She had turned her attention to the stash of DVDs we hadn’t packed yet. But when we had talked about Jade and Derek, I got nothing from her. If one or both of them had killed her, I thought she would’ve responded. It made no sense that she ignored us. I was missing something, but I was too fried to think anymore.

“You look tired,” Joe said.

I smiled at him. He had read my mind and always seemed a step ahead. Hanging with this guy was like wearing my favorite jeans, the kind that stretched when I ate too much and never felt too tight or made my butt look too big. We were so in sync that it was seriously crazy.

“Yeah, guess I am. We can hit this tomorrow.” I didn’t even have to ask if he’d be up for another day at this. I knew he would be. Joe was rock steady.

Heather had cleared out. At least for now. I felt her presence in the room, even though she didn’t show me where she was. Sometimes the dead got off on playing head games with the living. And that would have gone double for somebody cruel like Heather.

I walked Joe to the door and gave him a hug under the porch light. I don’t think hugging came naturally for him. And it never had for me, either. But today, I needed one from him and it felt right, like we’d done it a million times. And would do it a million more times, in the lives that stretched ahead of us.

Since I’d met White Bird and Joe, I’d become a firm believer that anything was possible. “Hey, Joe…”

After he’d headed for his truck, I called out to him and he turned back.

“You were the thunder. And the owl, right?” I grinned. Joe had been watching over me in my vision. And a part of me always knew he’d be there.

But Joe never really answered me. He only gave me his lazy smile and said, “People like you and me, we may share a vision, but it’s never the same one. Each journey is personal and filtered through our experiences.” He winked. “Like I said, you’re strong, Brenna. You’ll figure this out. It’ll hit you when you least expect it.”

I watched Joe drive away as I sat on the porch under the gazillion winks of light in the night sky. I didn’t feel like playing hide-and-seek with Heather. Sometimes the dead cheated, because they could. But when I thought about Jade and Derek and Heather, my mind automatically pictured someone else in that pitiful bunch.

Chloe Seaver.

She’d been the puppet everyone played. If Jade and Derek had been with Heather the night she was killed, where had Chloe been?

“That’s it.”

I rushed off the porch and headed inside, without a sideways glance to see if Heather was still hanging out. If anyone knew what had happened that night, Chloe would. I had to talk to her. She was always the quiet one, the one who had been manipulated by the popular crowd, but she’d also been a friend once. Maybe I could appeal to the nice girl that had been buried underneath the caustic influence of Heather and Jade. She went along with those two, but she never seemed to buy in completely.

I went to my bedroom to grab my new cell phone before I headed to the garage to get my bike. If White Bird’s vision was real, then Jade and Derek were there the night Heather died. But what if they weren’t the only ones?

Maybe Chloe had been there, too.



When I got to Chloe’s house, the place had no lights on, except for a few security fixtures on the lawn. Those were probably on timers and would make it harder to avoid being seen. But with all the windows dark, the Seavers were probably asleep, including Chloe. Her bedroom was dark, too, or maybe she had her drapes shut.

When we used to be friends as kids, I not only knew where her room was, I knew how she got in and out at night without her parents knowing.

“Let’s hope some things stayed the same,” I whispered. “Otherwise I’ll be SOL.”

I ditched my bike in some bushes and crept around to the side of the house. I didn’t want her parents to see me. At this hour, they’d call the cops first and ask questions later.

I stayed close to the shrub line and dodged from shadow to shadow until I made it to the trellis and tested it before I climbed. When it took my weight, I scaled the sturdy lattice to Chloe’s window and tapped on the glass.

“Chloe,” I whispered. “It’s me. Brenna.”

I waited for her to flick on the lights and pull the drapes open, but she never did.

“Chloe.” I tried again, but nothing happened. This time I wedged my finger under the window and it slid open an inch.

For a split second, I thought about staying put and not going in. But when I imagined White Bird going to prison, I had to do something, even if it meant Chloe would scream and call her parents.

“Screw it.” I opened the window and crawled in.

Chloe’s room was dark. It took a while for my night vision to kick in, but when I saw her under the blankets on her bed, I crawled toward her on all fours.

“Chloe? Don’t scream, okay?” I whispered again. “It’s me. Brenna.”

I listened for her breathing, but didn’t hear anything. She hadn’t moved or made a sound. I crawled closer. And when I went past her dresser, my hands knocked into stuff she had on the floor. I had to be more careful. I ran my fingers ahead of me, feeling as I went along. She had plastic bags all over the floor, maybe an arts and craft project. I shoved everything aside to get at her bed.

When I was close enough, I got to my knees and clamped a hand over her mouth.

“Don’t scream.” I raised my voice, enough for her to hear. “It’s only me.”

My fingers felt something wet and sticky. And when I smelled something metallic, I yanked my hand back and gasped.

“Chloe?” Without thinking, I got to my feet and reached for the lamp on her nightstand. When I flipped on the switch, the light flooded the room and I squinted, holding up my hand to shield my eyes. When I looked down, I screamed and nearly jumped out of my skin. It wasn’t Chloe in that bed.

I was staring into the bloody face of Jade DeLuca.

“Holy shit!” I screamed again. “Shit, shit, shit!” I didn’t care if anyone heard me now.

Jade had her hands tied on the bedposts. And her face was so covered in blood that I barely recognized her.

“Jade?” I choked when I called out her name. And I swear to God, she wasn’t breathing.

I looked down at my hands and they were covered in blood. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. I wiped my hands down my clothes and stared at Jade. Her red hair glistened with blood. That was scary enough, but she had something strange stuck to the top of her head. Long strands of brown hair hung down her neck, longer than the length of her own hair.

It looked like she wore a weird hair extension, something from an old Halloween costume. And the top part of the hair-piece wasn’t pinned down. I leaned closer and lifted it with my fingers. The strand of hair had brown shriveled gunk holding it together. And it stank real bad. I dropped it quick.

“Jade? Wake up….” I tried touching her, but she didn’t move.

When I backed away from the bed, I kicked something with my foot. It was an empty plastic bag with a label on it that read 4 LUCAS in caps. And Chloe’s armoire was open with stuff tossed all over the carpet. What was going on?

And where was Chloe? Why hadn’t her parents come running when I screamed? With every question, my stomach twisted into a knot and my body shook all over. I wanted to run, but when I turned to haul ass out the window, I stopped.

Chloe stood at the bedroom door, with a hand behind her back. Her dark smoky eyes were ringed in red, making her look crazed. And in the dim light, her skin was a ghostly white. She looked dead.

“What do you think of the new Heather?” She smiled down at Jade, proud of her handiwork. And her voice was childlike and unemotional, like nothing was wrong.

“What did you do, Chloe? That’s not Heather. It’s Jade. Is she dead?” I inched closer to the window, my only way out with Chloe blocking the bedroom door.

“I don’t know, but she may as well be Heather, don’t you think?” When I didn’t answer, she stepped into the room. “I saved that piece of hair. Couldn’t get rid of it. I didn’t know it would come in so handy.”

“Saved it from what?”

“That was Heather’s hair. She always loved how long and shiny it was. She bragged about it all the time. I got sick of hearing it, but you know how she was, right?” Chloe smiled and came closer to me. “So I took it from her. I did it for Lucas. I had to. She would have ruined him if I had let it go on.”

Suddenly I remembered what Deputy Tate had said at the sweat lodge. And I knew what Chloe had been talking about. Jade was wearing Heather’s scalp. The brown goop was Heather’s dead skin with dried blood on it. Chloe had murdered Heather and scalped her with the knife.

I gagged and almost puked. I had touched it. And imagining the hatred Chloe had to have in her to mutilate a body like that was even harder to understand. Heather’s dead face flashed through my mind like a vicious strobe light. The blood. Her glazed dead eyes covered with a film of white. All of it came back in a rush. I took a deep breath and kept my eyes on the girl who had killed Heather and set up White Bird to take the fall.

“Chloe, where are…your parents?” My voice was shaky.

“Gone. They’re always gone.” She pursed her lips and gave a fake pout.

When she came closer, I moved, too. My heart was pounding so hard, I felt light-headed.

“I’ve been waiting for Derek downstairs,” she said. “Guess he’s not coming. Too bad. I had a murder-suicide story all planned for him and Heather 2.0. But I’m glad you’re here now, Brenna. You’ll do nicely. Perfect, in fact. I’ll take care of Derek another time…if I have to.”

When she pulled the hand out from behind her back, Chloe had a butcher knife. And I gasped.

“Don’t do this, Chloe.” I raised my hand. “You don’t have to do this.”

“But I do now, don’t you see?” The blonde smiled, but her face twisted into a grimace. “I swear, it was only gonna be the one time. I had to kill her. She forced me into it. Heather was gonna ruin Lucas.”

“Lucas?” I remembered him and had seen stuff about him on Jade’s Facebook page, but I wanted to keep her talking.

“Yeah, Lucas Quinn. You remember him, right?” She heaved a sigh. “And I would’ve gotten away with what I did, too. All I needed to do was…nothing. And I would’ve been all right.”

“But why did you hurt Jade?”

“I didn’t want to, but she found all my secrets. And she saw the part of Heather I couldn’t get rid of. That’s why she’s wearing it.” Chloe looked at Jade on the bed and laughed. “And for the record, I really wouldn’t have dragged you into it, but you only have yourself to blame.” She shook her head and stepped closer. “You wouldn’t let it go. Why couldn’t you just let it go?”

I tensed my body, ready to move. Chloe was getting way too close. I clenched my fists, ready to punch her, but when the jarring ring of the phone caught us both off guard, Chloe was the first to move.

She lunged at me with the knife. And I dodged out of the way, but not before she cut me.

The sting of the blade sliced my belly and sent a shock wave of chills through me. I grabbed her hand and wrestled her for the weapon, pulling her to the floor. We rolled over the carpet. And I couldn’t stop thinking about Heather and how she died. And I pictured the same thing happening to me. Chloe had pounded a knife into her, more than a dozen times.

Please, God. Don’t let that happen to me.

When I got Chloe’s back against the armoire, I had her pinned under me. I whacked her wrist on an open drawer until she dropped the knife. With a cry of pain, she cradled her arm and rolled onto her side. I didn’t wait to see what she’d do next.

I stumbled off the carpet and charged for the open window, with adrenaline surging through me. I thought I could make it. And I didn’t give a shit about how I’d land below. But when I got stuck halfway out the window, I felt Chloe’s hands on my legs.

“Help me!” I screamed, grappling for the cell phone in my pocket. “Someone help me.”

I got my fingers on my phone, but when I pulled it from my pocket, it fell out of my hands as we fought. My phone fell to the ground, into the shadows. I had been so damned close. I struggled against her grip and strained to let my weight be too much for her. All I needed was a little time. Down the street, dogs barked and a neighbor’s light came on. I yelled again and again.

But when Chloe yanked me back inside, I knew by the time help arrived, it would be too late. Whatever was about to happen would be over.



Parked outside the Seaver house, Matt Logan sat behind the wheel of his police cruiser with the cell phone to his ear. He had one ear plugged so he could hear if someone picked up the phone. His dispatch radio was crackling with activity from Jolene. Six rings and no one at the Seaver place had picked up. At this time of night, that meant only one thing.

No one was home.

“I thought you said Chloe and Jade would be here. No one’s answering.” He looked into his rearview mirror. Derek had his head turned, staring at the dark house.

“I swear, Jade called me and told me to meet her here, because Chloe’s parents would be gone.” His nephew looked at him through the reflection. “They’re there. They’ve gotta be.”

“You better not be lying to me, boy.”

“I’m not. I swear to God.”

“You leave God out of this. You’re in enough trouble.” Matt looked over his shoulder at Derek, sitting behind the metal mesh of his back seat. “When I bring those girls out here, I don’t want to hear a peep out of any of you. And I’ll be watching.”

Matt left Derek locked up in his patrol car and headed for the front door. Under a security light, he punched the doorbell several times and waited. When no one answered, he dropped his chin and shook his head. If the girls thought he’d go away if they didn’t come to the door, they were dead wrong.

But when he heard a girl’s scream coming from the rear of the house, he pounded the door with his fist.

“Chloe? Open up. Now!” He yelled. “This is Sheriff Logan. I know you and Jade are in there.”

When he heard another scream, the hair at the back of his neck stood straight up. Matt knew he had no time to lose. Using his shoulder mic, he called for backup Code 3. Following procedure, they’d arrive using sirens. He had just unzipped his fly and soon everyone would know his business. But that didn’t matter now.

Someone inside had yelled for help. And he prayed he wouldn’t be too late.



Chloe had a good grip on my legs. I wouldn’t ditch her now. When she grabbed my hips and hoisted me back inside, the doorbell rang and she cried out. I knew she was scared, but not half as afraid as me. At the sound of the bell, I shifted my weight and shoved back on her.

We both fell to the floor.

“Help me! Please,” I screamed and felt the heat rush to my face as I fought her off. Someone was at the front door. It was my only chance.

I thought about how Mom always said I was a fighter. And I pictured Joe as a little kid, struggling to survive his vision quest after being bitten by a rattlesnake. But most of all, I thought about how strong White Bird had been to survive his two-year ordeal, alone.

Borrowing from his strength, I balled my fist and punched Chloe in her stupid little bird face. Once. Twice. The release felt good. I socked those smoky black eyes and gave her something to cry about. And when she screamed for me to stop, I didn’t. I couldn’t. She’d taken so much from me.

Chloe had killed Heather. And she’d stolen White Bird’s life, and mine. I’d hurt my mother because of her. And Grams had died thinking I was a real loser. My rage took over. I knew it was wrong, but I didn’t care.

The sheriff had to pull me off her. I saw uniforms fill the room and everything faded into a blur. Others stood over me and I didn’t care. All I saw was Chloe.

Twisted, sick little Chloe.



“Stop it!” Matt Logan yelled. “Get off her.”

Brenna Nash was out of control and covered in blood. She had Chloe Seaver on the carpet, punching the hell out of her. And Jade DeLuca was another bloody mess on the bed. She looked dead.

“What did you do?” he demanded.

One of his deputies had Brenna by the shoulders. He’d subdued her, but Matt saw that she was in no position to talk. She had a wild look in her eye. And he had no idea what to make of all this.

“Sheriff, you gotta see this.”

Matt turned to see what his deputy was talking about.

“This looks like a real scalp, sheriff. I think this came off Heather Madsen.” Deputy Sanford grimaced and lifted a bloody strand of hair off Jade, using his pen to lift it.

“What the hell did you do, Brenna?”

He’d been wrong about the Nash girl. At the hospital, he’d felt sorry for her. He had the feeling she’d gotten caught up in something she couldn’t handle. Now it looked as if he’d been all wrong. And he would have arrested her on the spot for assaulting both these girls, if he hadn’t heard the garbled voice coming from the bed.

Jade DeLuca was alive.

“No. Not…B-Brenna.” Jade choked on every word. And she struggled to sit up, but couldn’t. The battered girl pointed a trembling finger. And she pointed it at Chloe Seaver. “She did it. Chloe killed…H-Heather. And almost…me, too.”

“That’s not true,” the Seaver girl ranted. “Jade and Derek. They were the ones who killed Heather. They did it! They’re ganging up on me, like they always do. Just ask anyone. They’ll tell you.”

Matt had no clue what had happened, but given the fact that Heather’s scalp had been in Chloe’s possession in her room, that evidence was as hard to refute as a smoking gun. And given the finger pointing between Jade and Chloe, he had a feeling that he owed a serious apology to Brenna Nash and her mother. He had a lot to figure out and from the looks of things, it would be a long night.

“Get an ambulance for Jade. And arrest this one for assault, for starters, until we sort this out.” He pointed at Chloe, who was still screaming and giving him a serious headache.

When Brenna stood, she almost collapsed. He grabbed her in time and held on to the thin, trembling girl. When he wrapped his arms around her, she didn’t pull away. The girl was sobbing.

“Shhh. You’re okay. You’re safe now, Brenna. It’s over. It’s really over this time.” He held her tight and whispered in her ear. “Come on. I’m taking you home. I’ve got something to say to you and your mom.”

An apology to the Nashes would be hard enough. But if what Jade said was true, and Chloe had killed Heather Madsen, then what would he say to Isaac Henry?