Free Deep and Dark and Dangerous by Mary Downing Hahn Page A

cheese.
    I watched her sandwich the cheese between two crackers. "Well, before Dulcie invited me here, I found an old photo of her and Mom when they were kids. Another girl had been sitting beside Dulcie, but someone had torn her out of the picture. On the back, all that was left of her name was a
T
Mom got really upset and swore she didn't know anyone whose name started with
T.
"
    "And you think it was Teresa," Jeanine said.
    "The lake was in the background, so it
must
have been her."
    Jeanine nodded and helped herself to another piece of cheese. She seemed to be waiting for me to tell her more.
    "Last night, I got out an old Candy Land game," I went on. "Mom and Dulcie had written their names on the board. Teresa's name was there, too. But someone had scribbled over it with a black crayon. Dulcie said she didn't know why 'Teresa' was written on the board. She got mad and shouted at me."
    I lowered my head, almost ashamed to finish. "Dulcie remembers Teresa—I'm sure she does. Why would she lie about it?"
    "Maybe it has something to do with Teresa's death." As she spoke, Jeanine looked at the lake, her face expressionless.
    "Teresa
died?
" Shocked, I gripped the soda can and stared at Jeanine. I'd never imagined Teresa dead. All this time, I'd pictured her living around here somewhere, stopping by for a visit, forcing Dulcie to remember her. "How did she die?"
    "It was the last summer your mother and aunt came to the lake." Jeanine sipped her tea. "For some reason, no one knows why, Teresa went out in your grandfather's canoe all by herself. It was rainy, foggy. The canoe washed up nearby, but..."
    Shivers raced up and down my bare arms.
    Jeanine looked at me, and a shadow crossed her face—worry, maybe. "I hope I haven't upset you." She patted my hand, white knuckled from its grip on the soda can. "Teresa's been gone a long time now."
    She broke a cracker into pieces and tossed the crumbs to a pair of sparrows hopping around our feet. For a moment, she sat silently, watching the birds fight over the crumbs. Without looking at me, she said, "It must have been very painful for Claire and Dulcie. It certainly was for me."
    She threw more crumbs to the sparrows. Several others arrived, as if word had gotten out that food was available.
    "What was Teresa like?" I asked at last.
    "Just an ordinary kid, I guess. Smart, kind of cute, but..." While Jeanine talked, her eyes drifted from the sparrows to the bumblebees droning in the hollyhocks.
    "But what?"
    "Oh, nothing. I'm just running my mouth, as usual." She looked at her watch. "My goodness, it's almost time for supper, and I haven't got a thing in the house. I'd better go."
    Jumping to her feet, Jeanine gave me a quick hug. "Please don't worry about what I told you. It happened so long ago. Maybe your aunt and your mother really have forgotten. After all, they didn't spend the rest of their lives here, listening to people talk about poor Teresa."
    After landing a kiss on my cheek, Jeanine hurried to the Jeep. "Tell Dulcie I'd love to see her again," she called, "...if she wants to see me."
    With a smile and a wave, she put the Jeep in reverse and backed down the drive.
    Long after Jeanine left, I sat on the deck, gazing out at the lake's calm water. No wonder Mom hadn't wanted me, her one and only child, to spend the summer here. No wonder she was scared of water and boats. No wonder she feared for my safety. If Teresa could drown, so could I.
    But I had a feeling there was more to Teresa's death—much more. Jeanine hadn't told me all she knew. She'd been edgy, nervous, uneasy. While she'd talked, she'd looked at everything but me: the lake, the sparrows, the bumblebees in the hollyhocks. And she'd left in a hurry, before I'd had a chance to ask her any more questions.
    It seemed the answer to one question always led to another question. And that answer to another question, and so on and so on. Was anything ever settled and done with?

11
    I was still sitting on the deck,