'Good point. You go first.'
'Kate fell down the steps last night,' Patrick volunteered, 'down the big stairs, and woke everybody up. Daddy wanted to call 911.'
Sam turned to stare at me.
'It wasn't as bad as it sounds. I stopped at the landing.'
'Mommy said she could have killed herself.'
'I bruised my shoulder, that's all,' I told Sam. 'Come on. This snowman needs eyes and numbers.' I started walking.
'Race!' Sam shouted suddenly, and took off. The snow made it harder for Patrick to pick up his short legs and run. He looked like a bunny hopping after Sam. I waited till Sam slowed down to let Patrick catch up, then shot past the two of them.
Snowballs pelted the backs of my legs. I stopped to taunt the boys, and Sam rushed past me. He stood grinning at the top of the steps, then started down them, kicking off snow as he went. As it turned out, the wood was in good shape; I should have known that Adrian would keep his property perfectly maintained.
At the bottom, strips of snow lay like shimmering froth left behind by waves. It was low tide, and stones sparkled at the edge of the sand. The banks above us looked streaky, red clay and yellow sand sugared over with snow. The fresh smell of snow mixed with the tang of salt.
Patrick skipped along the shore, searching for materials. 'We'll use clams for his ears,' he called over his shoulder.
'Perfect!' I said, starting after him, but Sam caught me by the sleeve.
'What happened last night?'
'What do you mean?' I asked.
'How did you fall down the steps?'
'I just fell.'
'I don't think so,' he said. 'I think you called me because something has happened to upset you.'
'I called because I was worried about Patrick.'
'Did you trip?' he persisted. No.
Sam waited for an explanation.
'I was pushed.'
'Pushed! By who?'
'I don't know. It was dark-someone turned out the night lamp.'
'Who do you think it was?'
'Ashley.'
He grimaced. 'That answer works only when you're seven. Be honest, who do you think it was?'
I don't know,' I told him.
'Why do you think you were pushed?'
'I don't know!'
'You can trust me, Kate.'
I bit my lip.
'I went on the Internet,' Sam said, 'and read the obituaries about your dad.'
I glanced at him, startled. He was doing research on me.
'One of the articles said he and your mom had been separated for twelve years.'
'That's right. She left us after we got to London. I haven't seen her since.'
'That must have-' Sam broke off, seeing Patrick walking toward us.
'I found eyes and ears for the snowman,' Patrick said, studying the treasures he carried. He dropped mussels and clamshells into my hands.
Sam admired them. 'Great! Now we need a lot of stones, so we can write out the uniform number.'
Patrick went off again.
'That must have been pretty tough, your mother suddenly disappearing,' Sam said, continuing our conversation.
I shrugged. 'The tough part was having to raise my father alone.'
He smiled a little, but his eyes were serious. 'Do you know how to contact your mother?'
I looked out at the bay, at the cold blue-gray waves, their jagged glitter. 'Yes, but I won't. Ever. Can we change the subject?'
He didn't answer right away. 'Okay. What do you want to talk about?'
'Patrick.' I watched him at the edge of the water, picking up stones. There were others on dryer land, but he wanted the wet ones, the shiny ones. 'I am really worried about him.'
'Has his loving family killed any more pets?' Sam asked.
'He doesn't have any other pets, unless you count November.'
I told Sam about the strange reappearance of Ashley's cat and recounted the other odd events: the way Patrick had played the song Ashley had played, with the same incorrect note; the dare on the diving board-the same dare Ashley had made to me. Once I started, I couldn't stop and I told him everything, though I avoided using the word 'ghost.'
'Sam,' I said, finding my nerve at last, 'what if Patrick sees and hears something… something real?'
'Like what?'
I don't know-a force, a spirit, the mind of Ashley. I think you may be right about her being murdered. What if Ashley is seeking justice?' I rushed on. 'Or what if she is lonely and wants Patrick with her, in her world, forever?'
'Get a grip, Kate!' Sam exclaimed.
I had one, till someone pushed me down the steps. Maybe it was someone in the family. Or maybe it was Ashley. I can feel Patrick resisting me now when I talk to him, closing his mind to me. What if Ashley is trying to separate us, so she can put him in a deadly situation?'
Sam bent down, picked up the shells that had slipped through my fingers, and put them back in my hand. 'We don't need supernatural events to explain what is happening.'
I had guessed he would say that.
'Patrick is lonely and hurting,' Sam went on. 'What do kids like that do? Create imaginary playmates for company and get attention however they can.
He's been very successful at getting it-his dares have rattled you, his talk of Ashley has rattled his family.'
'That's what I thought at first,' I said, 'but too many eerie things have happened. Patrick knows too much about Ashley. He knows things I didn't think anyone else knew but Ashley and me.'
'Kate, all little kids have secrets they think adults don't know. Not only do they know, but so do the brothers and sisters who spy on the kids-or, in this case, cousins, like Westbrook Caulfield.' He said the name as haughtily as Brook had.
I shook my head, rejecting his suggestion.
'Okay, let's say you're right,' he said. 'Then you should be able to solve the mystery of Ashley's death pretty easily. Learn ghost talk and ask her who killed her.'
I felt mocked. 'That's what I get for trusting you.'
He took a step back. 'Excuse me! Trust doesn't mean you'll get the response you want from someone, but that you'll get an honest response, and that the other person will stick by you even when you can't agree.'
Stick by you for how long, through how much? I wondered. What is the expiration date on trust?
I watched Patrick tiptoeing toward a gull, leaning forward, calling to it, trying to befriend it. He was a kid desperate for companions-people, animals, ghosts. I kicked at the stones beneath my feet, then crouched down. 'I
