The Line

SEVENTEEN


When I awoke, I knew that someone was in the room with me. I felt the weight of unfriendly eyes on me, and I scrambled up in bed with a gasp.

“No need for all of that,” Connor said. “It’s just me.” He had pulled the chair from my makeup table over to the foot of my bed and was sitting there watching me sleep. The chain of his pendulum was laced through the fingers of his right hand.

“What do you want?” I asked.

“Now don’t get all riled up,” he said, letting the pendulum fall to its full length. “I wanted to have a talk with you in private.”

“So you chose to sit there watching me sleep like some kind of boo hag?” I asked. The boo hag was the low country’s own version of the boogeyman—well, maybe more of a cross between the boogeyman and a vampire. It was a creature that sucked the life out of you as it watched you sleep. Connor had cracked open the shutter behind him just enough for a sliver of light to pour in. Since it was coming from behind him, I could only see him in silhouette, his features were obscured by shadow. Flooding the room with sunlight might have helped dispel the sense of menace, but something told me not to risk walking by him to throw open the shutters. I reached over and snapped on my bedside lamp.

The light revealed an odd look in his eyes that I would never have expected to see there. Regret combined with tenderness, a caring that shook my sense of who this man was to me. “You sure are your mama made over,” he said. “A little discipline would have done her good too,” he said. The hardness I was accustomed to returned to his eyes.

I pulled a pillow in front of me and hugged it. “What do you want to talk about?” I asked, a sense of vulnerability adding an edge to my question.

He smiled. “I want to talk about the day Ginny was killed. Something’s been bothering me about that day,” he said, leaning forward a little. The chair squeaked beneath its heavy burden. “I was going to let it go, but then last night you pulled the anchor lot.”

He allowed a pregnant pause, but I said nothing.

“It’s just that my pendulum kept giving me some odd answers that day when I asked it to show me the location of the weapon used to kill Ginny.”

“You said it wasn’t there,” I said.

“Well, that was a wee bit of a lie,” he said and began to swing the pendulum in a slow circle. “Every time I asked for the location, it pointed at you.” He stood up and came closer my bed.

“I had nothing to do with Ginny’s murder,” I said. “And I’d really like you to leave my room now.” I was afraid to hear what he might have to say.

“Are you so sure about that?” he asked. “Or maybe what you really want to do is to take this moment, when it’s only the two of us, to tell me everything you know.”

“I don’t know anything I haven’t already told you,” I replied. “Now, please leave.”

He ignored my request. “Ginny was angry with you. You were mad at Ginny.”

“I didn’t hurt her,” I responded.

He sat next to me on the bed, and I pulled my arms more tightly around my body. “Oh, I believe you there,” he said. “That’s where things start to get interesting. The pendulum was so insistent about you that I asked it then and there if you had killed her.” He stared deeply into my eyes, and damn it, I blinked. “It told me emphatically no.” He stood abruptly, and the mattress squeaked as he moved.

He began to pace a bit back and forth. “So the message I got was that you were the weapon used, but not the hand that wielded the weapon. Any idea what that means?”

“None. Go ask your toy.”

“I have, and I’ll continue to ask for clarification, but I was hoping that you’d open up, maybe tell me what you were up to that was pissing Ginny off so much.”

I glared at him. “Who knows? It was always something with Ginny.”

“That’s true,” he allowed. “She was a touchy old bird.” He stopped pacing and turned to face me. “Like I said, I would have let it all go, chalked it up to confused energies, except for the fact that you were chosen to take Ginny’s place.”

“You yourself said that was a mistake,” I countered.

“I know what I said, but I was just trying to look out for you. And I was trying to right a wrong that was being done to Maisie. I don’t know what you’re up to, but somehow you have gotten in way over your head,” he said, shaking a finger at me. “You should have never tried to take what was intended for you sister. You keep it up, and you are going to get yourself squashed like a bug.”

“That’s enough. We are done,” I said and threw the pillow I had been holding across the room. I swung my feet onto the floor and stood, stretching as tall as I could make my body go. “I haven’t done anything.” I reached out and poked him hard in the chest. “And I haven’t tried to take anything.” I poked him again. “Anything. Period.” I got right up in his face. “Now get out!”

He took a step back. There was a smile on his face, but no warmth in his eyes to back it up. He didn’t say another word; his expression said it all. He knew I was guilty of something, even if he hadn’t quite figured out what it was yet. I tried not to think of Jilo, but try not to think of an elephant, and all you see is trunk. Oliver could have read me with no problem, but thank God, Connor was weak. After a long moment, he turned and left the room. I shut the door behind him, locked it, and then I rushed over to the window to open the shutters and let the sunlight flood in.