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Sean returned quietly, shaking his head. “You meant to say it. You’ve probably got a sampler at home with those very words embroidered on it. You’re a good actress, Cassandra Mercer, playing the caring, nurturing female and the consummate educational professional, speaking in that quiet, repressed-virgin way of yours, quoting statistics at me in meeting after meeting, your voice like water dripping on a stone as you cite sources that back up your harebrained theories. But all the time, deep inside yourself, you’re making little voodoo dolls of me, aren’t you? And mentally sticking pins in them. Tell me, do you go home from school board meetings and throw darts at a picture of me you’ve nailed to your wall?”
Cassandra’s bottom lip began to tremble, and Sean was immediately contrite, knowing he’d gone too far, said too much. Why did this woman have this effect on him? Why did he dislike her so much? It wasn’t as if she was some sort of threat to him, for crying out loud!
“Look, Cassandra,” he began, not exactly in the mood for female waterworks. He had enough to deal with tonight, stranded here smack in the middle of nowhere, with the distinct possibility of being buried under several hundred tons of mud and rock if the rest of the mountainside decided to give way. “I’m sorry if I said—”
His apology, his plea for calm, both quickly dissolved under the warm, throaty sound of Cassandra’s bubbling laughter.
“Jason is so much your son that it’s almost scary!” she said as she struggled to control her giggles. “All bluster and bravado—all bristly and willing to attack at the drop of a hat in order to cover up any hurt, any pain. Voodoo dolls? Dartboards? Jason accused me of searching his locker, maybe even bugging it, because I seem to know too much about him.”
Then she sobered. “And neither of you realize that you’re both as clear as any of those gymnasium windowpanes Jason smashed. That you’re both so scared and insecure and full of love that you’re simply afraid to give for fear of having it flung back in your faces. You, because of your childhood, Jason because of the divorce, his mother’s remarriage, even the new baby.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Sean said angrily, but he didn’t look at Cassandra as he denied her words, couldn’t look at her. “Jason is spoiled rotten, and that’s why he’s a discipline problem. Sally always bribed him to be good, bought him a brand-new car the day he turned sixteen, forgave him when he started lifting money from her wallet last summer to buy videogames and new jeans, allowed him to set his own curfew. He doesn’t want love, Cassandra. He wants to be left alone. He wants his own way. He wants to control his own life, even though he has no idea what real life even is. And he hates me because I took away that new car, I make him stay on a reasonable allowance, and I damn well make sure he’s home at a decent hour.”
Cassandra shook her head in what looked to be exasperation, and her words tumbled out quickly, as if she was thinking and speaking at the same time. “Don’t you see what’s wrong here? Don’t you see? Both you and your ex-wife are teaching Jason that outlandish, unacceptable behavior is the way to privilege and material things and—even more important to him, I’m sure—what he believes should be his share of parental attention. When he lived with your ex-wife, and was bad, he got anything he wanted. Did you say this started last summer? Interesting. His grades were good until he transferred to Burke this past fall.”
She shook her head, frowning. “But never mind that now. We’ll get to that another time. Now that he lives with you, he may have lost some of his material things, some of his privileges, but he certainly isn’t wallowing in abject poverty, and he sure as heck has gained your full attention. Do you understand now? You and your ex-wife have been allowing the tail to wag the dog, and neither of you is right!”
“Oh, really?” Sean answered, feeling his jaw muscles growing tight. “So Sally and I are both lousy parents, and we’re responsible for Jason’s stupid behavior in school, his lousy grades. Is that the footnoted version? Will you be citing sources for me next?”
Cassandra turned sideways on the front seat, drawing her long legs up beside her on the cushion, her features animated, her eyes sparkling as another flash of lightning turned the deepening night to day. “Think about it, Sean. I talked Jason into taking early SATs—Scholastic Aptitude Tests.”
“I know what SATs are,” Sean interrupted. “I just didn’t know Jason took them. He never told me.”
“Of course he didn’t! If you knew he’d had the highest score in all of Burke, you’d probably be ten times as hard on him for darn near failing two subjects this past quarter. Jason is a lot of things, but he isn’t stupid! Why, he’s probably smarter than you and your ex-wife and me put together. Which is why it’s so terribly sad to watch him throwing all his potential away because he thinks he’s so totally unloved. He’s intelligent, yes, but he’s still not mature enough, emotionally, to see what he’s doing. But you are! Which is why I’m actually feeling rather glad we’re stuck here—not that I want to be here much longer, of course. Now that you’ve told me more about Jason’s background, your own background, maybe I can really make some progress with him.”
She subsided against the seat once more, as if she’d just realized she’d said too much. “If you want to, that is. And if you promise not to go running to Jason and tell him you know about his SAT scores. Because if he thinks I ratted on him, I’ll lose what little ground I’ve gained with him this past semester, and—well…”
“You don’t have to explain that one to me, Cassandra,” Sean admitted, his anger draining away. “I’m very much aware of the term, and would never rat on you.” Then he looked at her again, envying Jason for his ability to bring such animation, such genuine interest, to Cassandra’s face. “You really like him, don’t you.”
Her smile lit up the night with twice the voltage of the continuing lightning strikes. “Oh, yes. He’s a great kid. Funny, intelligent, inventive. But always with this underlying sense of sadness about him, you know? It’s like he’s this clumsy, eager, half-grown puppy with big sad eyes. I just want to hug him sometimes.” She shook her head. “He’d have a fit if he heard me say that!”
“Yes, he probably—listen! Listen closely. Did you hear that?”
Cassandra sat up straight, turning her head from side to side, as if activating some inner radar. “Did I hear what?”
“I’m not sure,” Sean said, turning the ignition key to the accessories position again and pushing the button that lowered his side window, so that he could see out into the darkness. “Some sort of whooshing noise…like something’s on the move out there again.”
And then he saw it. Saw the mountain moving, sliding toward them. Again.
“Damn it all to hell!” He closed the window, turned off the ignition and made a grab for Cassandra, cradling her body tight against his as a wall of rock and mud slammed into the side of the Jeep.
The sound went on forever. The slam of rocks, the oozing, sucking, rushing sound of ground giving way and turning to a river of mud. Boulders hit the side of the Jeep, rocking the vehicle on its chassis, grinding it against the guardrail as it lifted and began to slide downhill along with the mud.
Sean employed his long legs to brace himself against the floorboards and used one hand to pull on the headlights, something telling him that, even if they tumbled down the mountainside, maybe the Jeep’s battery would last long enough to allow the headlights to serve as a beacon for possible rescuers.
If the Jeep wasn’t buried ten feet deep beneath a mountain of mud.
If one of the boulders didn’t come crashing into the Jeep at window level, ripping off the roof and killing the two of them instantly.
With Cassandra’s head buried against his shoulder, he looked out the front windshield, watching the area the headlights illuminated, seeing the melting mountainside even more clearly with each new bolt of lightning.
They were going forward, parallel with the roadway, sliding down the mountainside toward Grand Springs one lurching, heart-stopping yard at a time, the Jeep kept upright only