Page 27 of Falling for the Enemy

Evan had the same deer in headlights look I’d just seen on Ava, only he didn’t have an excuse waiting. He also struck me as the type of person who was miserably uncomfortable in group situations like this. “Uh, I need to think,” he muttered and looked to his friend Ian for assistance.

Ian had far more confidence than his lab mate. He sat up straighter and did a dramatic throat clearing as if about to recite a long Shakespearean sonnet. “I’ve got a good one. So, it’s the middle of fall in Boston. Picture all the amazing colors, crisp air, people already ducked down in their coats and scarves trying to avoid the biting autumn wind. It’s two days before Halloween.”

“Let me guess”—Milo laughed— “A crazy kid named Michael Myers knifed his whole family to death?”

Robyn quickly shushed Milo. “You’ll have your turn.” Robyn would have made a great Sunday school teacher.

Ian lowered his voice for effect. “My buddy, Tim, and I rode up Kingsford Road. There was an old, abandoned house at the end of the street. Tim promised me his Swiss army knife if I walked up to the front door and knocked. The knife had all the bells and whistles, and I’d been envious of the darn thing since he got it for his birthday. He was sure I wouldn’t do it, but we reached the crumbling brick path leading up to the front door. There were boards on most of the windows.”

“How many murders had taken place in the house?” Norm asked.

Everyone looked at him. He shrugged. “It’s not a haunted house unless there’s been murders inside.”

We laughed but Norm seemed deadly serious about his theory.

Focus returned to Ian. “Tim’s chin dropped, and I could see a look of disappointment in his eyes as I climbed off my bike. He started trying to back out of the deal, but I told him ‘too late.’ I walked up to the house and knocked. I figured the most that could happen was some of the siding shingles might fall off.” Ian paused to make sure he had everyone’s attention. Satisfied that he did, he took a deep breath. “A light came on in the front room. I decided I’d already won the knife, so I ran back to my bike and climbed on. As we peeled away on our bikes, the light turned off.”

We all waited with bated breath for more story, but apparently, that was it.

“It was probably just a squatter,” Pam said annoyed. “I don’t think that qualifies as inexplicable.”

Ian crossed his arms and seemed extra insulted due to the sparks that had been flying between the two up until that point, when Pam effectively doused the sparks with her cynical, snippy comment. “Let’s hear you do better.”

“Wait,” Norm said. “Did you get the knife?”

“Sure did, and for a few glorious hours I was the owner of a Swiss army knife. Then my dad saw it, and he made me give it back.”

Ian’s story gave us all a good laugh. Robyn looked my direction, and I pretended to be very busy flicking imaginary particles off my shirt to avoid eye contact.

“Well, I’ve got a great one,” Robyn said. I assumed that was the case considering she came up with the idea.

“My dad and I were driving back from my grandmother’s house.” Robyn’s eyes sparkled in the firelight. “She’d made her homemade raspberry jam, so we drove out to pick some up. She had fresh baked bread ready for taste testing. Delicious.” Robyn gave a little shake to let her audience know she was finished with the nostalgic part of the story. “So, this weird fog had rolled in,and it was so thick the headlights of Dad’s car only gave us about ten feet of visibility. It was one of those deserted rural roads with a few farms but mostly pastures. I was feeling sleepy from all the fresh bread, and I rested my head back. Before I shut my eyes, we passed someone standing in the mist. It was a woman, and she had this dreadful look on her face.”

“Like a zombie?” Milo asked hopefully.

Robyn furrowed her brows at him. “No, this was real life, not a video game. She just looked, hmm, she looked horrified, with wide dark eyes and her mouth pulled in this weird way—you know—like Munch’sThe Scream. In fact, the whole scene reminded me of that painting, with the swirling mist and the vast fields.”

“Maybe you’d already fallen asleep, and you were dreaming about the painting,” Evan offered. He got the same annoyed brow scrunch as Milo, only Evan took it much harder. He shrank down, apparently now resolved not to make further comments.

“No, I wasn’t dreaming,” Robyn said with uncharacteristic sharpness. Poor Evan shrank back even farther. “I know this because my dad saw the woman, too.” Robyn was so deep into her tale, she didn’t notice the damage she’d done to poor Evan.

Ava cleared her throat to interrupt. She’d seen Evan’s distress. “I just want to add a rule for when we’re at the firepit, since this bonfire in front of us has become a sort of symbol of our team building. Everyone’s opinions and questions and comments are considered and respected.”

Robyn got the message. She looked over at Milo and Evan. “Sorry, this story just always makes me kind of tense whenever I tell it.”

Pam yawned loudly. “I think I’m going to bed. The smoke from the fire is burning my eyes and giving me a headache.” No one tried to stop her.

Robyn did pout a little. “I haven’t even gotten to the good part.” She shrugged, which was exactly how all of us felt about Pam’s departure. “Well, naturally, my dad and I decided that we needed to turn around and check on the woman. He pulled over. I can still remember his headlights sweeping over the dark landscape as he turned the car around. He drove very slowly to avoid hitting her. He kept the headlights on so we could find her in the mist, but she was gone. No sign of the woman at all.”

“Let me guess—you heard that a woman died on that section of the road ten years to the day before you saw the mystery woman,” Ian said. He was using Ava’s new rule to its fullest extent of the law by adding his own ending.

Robyn blew out an exasperated breath. “That’s only in the movies. We never found out who the woman was, but we’re both sure we saw her.” Robyn crossed her arms to show she was finished and not all that pleased with how the story went after Ian added his own finale.

“Professor Lovely? How about you?” She gave Ava a pleading look hoping the whole thing could be saved with a new story.

Ava looked a little sad as she stared into the fire. If I was being honest, she’d looked less than herself since my stupid sarcasm in the mess tent. I was as surprised to see how much my comment had affected her as I was to realize how angry I was at myself for upsetting her. And just moments after theorizing that we were reaching a palatable level friendship. I was my own worst enemy.

“I do have a story,” Ava said quietly. “I was in class, in the elementary school my sisters and I attended. We’re all very close in age, so Ella was in the next grade level and Layla was in first grade, below me. Isla and Aria were in the next building with the upper grade classrooms.”

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