hold the lamp without a shade.
But they’d left her an opened can of Del Monte sliced peaches, a pack of chewing gum, and a small jar of Noxzema.
Amelia stared across the room at the big, bulky door. It was closed.
She knew where she was. This place had always given her the creeps. For years, she’d been afraid of somehow getting trapped here.
She was in the family cabin by Lake Wenatchee in the basement fallout shelter.
And yet, somehow, at this very moment, she could still feel the motion of Karen’s car, and a cold breeze through the open window kissing her face.
And she knew Karen was going to die.
Chapter Twenty-three
She wandered up and down the aisles at the Wenatchee library, searching for Amelia. Karen figured she might have missed her somehow. But she’d already walked around outside the building in the cold rain searching for Shane’s car. She’d seen plenty of vacant parking spots, and no sign of the VW Golf. She’d already explored the reference, periodicals, and nonfiction sections with no luck. Now, as she zigzagged around the shelves of books in the fiction section, Karen heard an announcement over the PA system saying that the library was closing in five minutes. Above her, every other row of overhead lights went off.
Karen was filled with a lost, hopeless feeling. She kept thinking about how Amelia was the only one who could get through to her sister, Annabelle. She might even know Annabelle’s next move.
After four months with Amelia in therapy, Karen still didn’t have a handle on her. What kind of therapist was she anyway? Even with all she’d uncovered about Amelia’s childhood, Karen still felt as if she didn’t really know her. It baffled her that little Amelia had fled from Clay’s house the way she had that day. Besides her twin, he’d been her only friend, and she’d run away from him, screaming.
“The Wenatchee Public Library is now closing,” a woman announced over the public address system. “We will be open again tomorrow at 10 A.M. Please exit through the front doors. Thank you and have a nice evening.”
Slump-shouldered, Karen wandered toward the front of the library. She wasn’t sure about what to do, except maybe call the state police. She could give them a description of Amelia, and Shane’s car, and then ask them to look for a motorist in trouble on Highway 2, somewhere between Grand Coulee Dam and Wenatchee.
A little blond girl, who apparently didn’t want to leave the library, was screaming and crying as her father dragged her toward the exit. Karen held the door open for him. He nodded at her, muttered “Thank you,” then finally scooped the screaming, squirming kid into his arms. Karen watched them walk down the library steps. She thought about how Lon Schlessinger had handled that same situation by throwing the hysterical child in her room and locking the door.
She remembered what Miriam had told her about Lon taking Annabelle with him on his aborted trip to the police station that Sunday afternoon fifteen years ago: “He said he didn’t even make it to the police station, because Annabelle started pitching a fit. None of us could figure out what was wrong with her.”
Karen hiked up the collar to her trench coat and started down the library steps. She could still hear that little girl screaming as her father carried her to their car, halfway down the block. Karen suddenly stopped dead. The rain was stronger now, but she didn’t move. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “He never went to the police station. He went and switched the twins.”
It was exactly as Naomi Rankin had said: “There’s a difference between what people saw that day and what’s true. I’m certain of that.”
Annabelle had been the cooperative twin, the one their father had had on a tight leash. She’d pretended to be her sister that afternoon.
It was a skill she would hone later as a young adult.
Ignoring the rain, Karen stood on the sidewalk. Behind her, the lights inside the library went off. All she could think about was Amelia, struggling in her father’s arms as she’d been smuggled out of Clay’s house, dressed in her sister’s clothes. Karen could almost hear her screams, until her father had clasped his hand over her mouth and locked her in her room. And from her bedroom window, Amelia might have seen everything that had happened down the block at her friend Clay’s house. She might have even seen her father gun him down.
No wonder they’d found it necessary to get rid of the child after that. She’d been too rebellious. She’d seen too much.
No wonder Amelia had blocked out all memory of her family-a demented, violent, serial-killer father, an ineffectual mother, and the twin sister who had betrayed her.
Karen suddenly realized her cell phone was ringing. She grabbed it and checked the caller ID. She didn’t recognize the number, but the area code was local: 509. “Hello?” she said into the phone.
“Karen, it’s Amelia….”
“Oh, thank God,” Karen said. “Where have you been?”
“I’m sorry. Are you still waiting for me at the library in Wenatchee?”
“Yes. Didn’t you get any of my calls?”
“No. Something must be wrong with the frequency, because I tried to phone you several times, but it didn’t answer. It didn’t even go to voice mail.”
“Where are you, honey?” Karen asked.
“Well, I feel like such a lamebrain. I decided to try a different way back, and ended up getting lost. I totally overshot Wenatchee, and then Shane’s car broke down. It’s been a nightmare….”
“Where are you now? I’ll come pick you up.”
“Well, I ended up getting a tow from this garage my dad used to go to near Lake Wenatchee. They were about to close, so I asked one of the guys there to give me a lift to this little restaurant near our lake house.”
“You mean Danny’s Diner?” Karen asked.
“Yeah. How do you know about Danny’s Diner?”
“I was there earlier today,” Karen said. She started walking toward her car. “I’ll explain when I see you. Listen, this is important, okay? Have you had a-premonition about something happening at George’s house?”
There was silence on the other end.
Karen stopped in her tracks. “Amelia?”
“Um, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Have you had any feeling that something’s wrong at George’s house, something with Jessie or the children?”
“No. Why are you asking?” There was a little panic in her voice. “Karen, are they okay?”
“Um, for now, I think they’re all right.” Karen hurried toward her car. “I’ll be at the diner in about thirty minutes. And please, please, don’t go anywhere, Amelia. I need your help with something, and it’s very important. We have a lot to talk about, too.”
“Does it have anything to do with why you’re in Wenatchee?”
“Sort of,” Karen said, climbing inside her car. She shut the door and started up the ignition. “I’ll explain when I get there. I promise.”
She switched on the wipers and headlights. She didn’t hear anything on the other end of the line. “Amelia?”
“If you were at Danny’s Diner, you must have gone to the lake house,” she said. “Were you looking for evidence that I was there the night everyone was killed?”
“Amelia, I
“My God, you found out about my real parents, didn’t you? Are they still alive?”
Karen didn’t answer. It wasn’t something she wanted to tell her over the phone.
“Karen, please. For God’s sake, don’t make me wait. Alive or dead, I’m not going to fall apart if you tell me now. I don’t even remember them. I’d just like to know. Are they alive?”
