Free Dark Secrets 2: No Time to Die; The Deep End of Fear by Elizabeth Chandler Page B

center aisle," Maggie instructed.
    There was whispering and nervous laughter as Brian retrieved the flashlights, then crossed the stage to the steps that led to the ground floor hall.
    Suddenly the whispering stopped.
    "What's that?" someone asked, her voice thin with apprehension. "What do I smell?"
    "Perfume," a guy answered.
    I sniffed and my skin prickled. I knew the scent.
    "Smells like jasmine," said another girl.
    Liza's perfume. I remembered the weeks after she'd died, packing her sweaters in a Goodwill bag, smelling the jasmine. I had felt as if she would walk into our bedroom at any moment. It was a scent that haunted.
    The lights suddenly came back on.
    "Nobody move," Maggie commanded. "I'm doing a head count."
    The vets exchanged glances—perhaps they recognized my sister's trademark scent.
    "Look at Paul," someone whispered.
    His eyes were shut, his lips closed and smiling. He was inhaling deeply, as if he loved breathing in Liza's scent, as if he couldn't get enough.
    I felt sick to my stomach. Turning away from him, I discovered Mike watching me.
    Walker paced up and down the stage, obviously irritated.
    "What was the problem?" he asked when Brian emerged from behind the stage.
    "I don't know. The power came back on before I reached the electrical room."
    "Did you see Arthur?"
    "No, but I came right back."
    "All of us are accounted for," Maggie reported to Walker.
    Placing his hands on his hips, Walker eyed Paul and me, then Keri in the wings with her fairies, then the kids in the rows of seats below.
    "It was a nice bit of theater," he said. "We might even incorporate it in our production, releasing a certain scent through the air duct system when Puck does his magic or Titania sweeps through. That said, I don't wish to be entertained by further improvisation. Got it?"
    Kids nodded and looked suspiciously at one another.
    I wanted to believe it was a piece of theater, but I couldn't shake the eerie feeling I'd had the day I arrived here, the strong sense of Liza's presence. I had thought I came out of my own need for closure; now I wondered if Liza had summoned me.
    What do you want, Liza?
    To find things for her, it was always to find things. Had someone at the camp heard something, seen something? If I probed, would I find clues that could solve her murder?
    "Miss Baird," Walker was saying, "please join us on this planet."
    No way, Liza, I answered my sister silently, don't ask me to do it.
    I'd hunt for barrettes, socks, homework, and phone numbers, but not for serial killers.

Chapter 10
    The best moments of Thursday and Friday were spent in the gym with Maggie and Tomas, the three of us working on how to make Puck "lighter than air." Tomas, seeing what I could do, was full of ideas on how to rework the set to accommodate vaults and tumbles. Maggie acted different than she did at the theater. She still worried, and still was unrelenting about getting things right, but sometimes, when we'd clown around, she'd laugh. We even "played hooky" for an hour, going to a nearby store to buy leotards for me. When Maggie heard that Tomas and I would be staying through the weekend, she invited us for dinner at her home Saturday night.
    I learned from Shawna that Mike, Paul, and Keri were also staying over the weekend. I avoided the three of them as much as possible Friday and saw them only from a distance walking down High Street on Saturday.
    I also avoided the window seat and the bridge and kept the lights on in my room. I slept badly Thursday and Friday night, wanting to close my eyes, but fighting sleep each time I'd feel myself slipping away. Still, I got a few hours each night with no haunting images. By the time Tomas and I were walking to Maggie's house Saturday night, I had convinced myself that the strange events of the first week were simply my initial reaction to facing the place where Liza had died. My second week here would certainly be easier.
    Maggie lived in a pretty wooden house on Cannon Street, one