The Attic on Queen Street (Tradd Street #7)

“He’s a man,” Jayne offered.

“They’re not,” I interjected. “Not after we found out he’d been lying to us and secretly working with Marc. Not that it worked out for either of them.” I gave a short laugh. “Jayne gave him a very nice shiner, although he deserved much more. Didn’t you, Jayne?”

She nodded, resembling a bobblehead more than a sane woman. I’d hoped that her former familiarity with Thomas meant she wouldn’t have to go through the awkward phase with him again. Apparently, I’d been wrong to. To distract them both, I held up the yearbook and the CD player, then walked over to the small wrought iron café table that had once sat in the now-obliterated garden. It currently rested on wobbly legs on the brick patio, causing me to hesitate before carefully putting the book and the Discman on top of it.

“I know you already saw these, Thomas. They were in Adrienne’s box in Veronica’s attic. It’s where you found the charm necklace.” My fingers reached automatically for the chain I now wore all the time. I’d tried leaving it in my jewelry box, but it would keep appearing wherever I happened to be. I thought I’d save Adrienne the trouble by just keeping it around my neck.

Thomas picked up the CD player. “I did. I even had this redusted for fingerprints. But by then it had been handled so many times, it made any of the results irrelevant.”

Jayne picked up the yearbook and opened the front cover, displaying the autographs and drawings of Adrienne’s friends. “Were you able to find all of these people to interview?”

Thomas nodded. “Those we could identify. There were a few with nicknames that we couldn’t trace to anyone. We asked those we could find and we were able to identify a few more, but there were still a few we couldn’t. The fact that she was killed at the end of the school year meant Adrienne’s yearbook had a lot of autographs in it and we had great hopes it would offer at least one clue we could use. Sadly, no new leads there. Basically, we’re back to where we started. Unless . . .” He looked pointedly at me.

“Unless Adrienne can tell me more. That’s why I brought these.” I paused, something I always did so I could do a mental check of those present to ensure I didn’t say anything alarming to the uninitiated. “She told me to.”

Thomas’s brow furrowed as he flipped the CD player over. “She did?”

“Well, not in so many words. But she more or less showed me.”

He nodded absently, turning the machine over again, then hitting the open button. His eyes met mine. “Where’s the CD?”

“That’s what I wanted to ask you. Was there one inside when you went up in the attic with Veronica?”

He shook his head. “No. But on the original police report, it listed a CD in the player.”

“Was it a Laurie Anderson album?” I asked.

He frowned for a moment. “Yeah, I think so. I’ll double-check, but I’m sure that was the artist. I remember it because I had to ask who she was.”

“She was famous for her one-hit wonder in the early eighties, ‘O Superman,’?” Jayne said. She spoke slowly, focusing on each word. We were definitely back at ground zero.

“I’ve never heard of it,” Thomas said.

“No one has,” we said in unison.

“But once you have, you’re not likely to forget it. It’s like after food poisoning when every time you smell a particular food you have flashbacks of the nausea. It’s really awful while at the same time unforgettable.” I shook my head, trying to clear it of the steady beat that had wormed its way inside.

“There’s something more,” I added. “It wasn’t just Adrienne in the attic. There was another spirit up there. Someone not happy to see me. Someone who’s quite insistent that I don’t want to know the truth.”

My mother grabbed my arm, squeezing tightly. “It’s the same thing from before.”

I nodded, both of us remembering the menacing words forced from her mouth when she’d clutched the charm necklace in her hand. “Yes. Whoever it was wants me to go away. I think that’s why I rarely see Adrienne and just feel her presence.”

“She’s saving her energy,” Jayne said quietly, “so she can protect you.”

I took the yearbook from Jayne, studying the signatures and well-wishes written in multicolored ink, a time stamp in the life of a young woman whose existence seemed suspended in the past, tethered to this world by an unanswered question. For the first time since Veronica had asked for my help, I understood. Not inside my head, where I normally comprehended what was happening around me in both this world and the next, but in the deepest part of my heart, where I held the love of Jack and my children.

I rubbed my finger over a drawing of a swan. “I’m assuming swans are the Omega Chi mascot?”

“Yes,” Thomas said. “Most of the signatures in here were from her sorority. We interviewed every member back when the murder happened, and again recently when we reopened the case. Again, no leads. Same with Adrienne’s boyfriend and his fraternity brothers. Nothing. Maybe Adrienne was randomly selected by a stranger. At this point, we know only that she died from a blow to the head with a blunt instrument that was never identified or discovered, her body found in a supply closet three days later.”

“Why did it take so long for them to find that poor girl’s body?” my mother asked, her eyes moist, as she was perhaps thinking of Jayne and me.

“Her roommate had gone home for the weekend and didn’t return until Monday morning. It wasn’t until later that evening when Adrienne still hadn’t turned up that the authorities were called. By then the perpetrator had had plenty of time to cover his tracks.”

The sudden sensation of fingers pressing against my throat made me gasp for air, my own fingers ineffectually trying to pull away invisible hands.

“What’s going on?” Thomas darted behind me, looking for my assailant

“Stop it!” Jayne and Ginette shouted in unison.