“The Cullravens?” she blurted, and then flushed, but Helena didn’t appear to notice her mistake. A cloud had settled over her features, making her look hostile and unpleasant.
“They’re game hunters. Do you know what that means?”
“Sure,” Nadine said. “It means they kill deer and stuff, right?”
The store owner shook her head almost pityingly. “There’s more than one kind of game, hon, and not all of it crawls on four legs. The older son’s married now, so maybe his wife’s tamed some of the wildness out of him. But the younger—he’s the spitting image of his great-grandfather, and his will runs deep. He’s got the Cullraven eyes.”
Benjamin, Nadine realized, the words like a slap in the face.She’s talking about Ben.And Cal.
“What are you saying?” Nadine asked, suddenly afraid. “Are you saying they’ll huntme?”
“All I’m saying is, you’ll be wanting to stay away from those boys. They’re attractive enough that some girls don’t listen. But if you’re smart, you won’t let them find you out in those woods.” Her eyes narrowed. “Nothing good ever happens to girls in those woods.”
“I’ll be careful.” Nadine picked up her bag of purchases. “Thanks.”
She could feel Helena’s eyes following her out. It made her wonder how many other people were watching from those shaded windows, like they’d stared on the day of the wedding.
The cab driver had spoken ofresentment, but after that talk with Helena and seeing how neatly the house had been erased from her curated idea of the town’s history, resentment seemed too mild a world.Hatredseemed like a better choice. Orfear.
What, exactly, had she been implying about the family? About Ben and Cal? Was she suggesting that they did things to people? Towomen?
(Nothing good ever happens to girls in those woods)
She glanced uneasily at the tall pine trees, visible even from here. Then she looked at her phone again, hoping that her reception had miraculously been restored so she could finally call Aunt Nikki and let her know that she’d arrived.
But no. She still didn’t have a signal, and she wasn’t about to blow her whole plan on a single roaming charge.I hope that AirBnB has good wi-fi. I forgot to ask.
She crossed the manicured lawn of the civic center, which had been landscaped with big pops of bright orange marigolds. The town hall was at the center of the quadrangle, with two large fields of grass split up by yet another walkway. In the center of the right half was a big bronze statue that had gone green. Nadine had just walked into its shadow when she saw another person coming.
Instinctively, she ducked, hiding behind the sun-warmed figure just as Odessa Cullraven popped into view.
She was wearing an off-the-shoulder blouse and a tiered velvet skirt, with a big camera bouncing against her chest with every step. Nadine half-expected for it to fly up and hit her in the face, but it never did.
When Odessa had walked to the edge of the sidewalk, she lifted the camera and snapped a picture of the old storefronts. Her shirt lifted with the movement, baring a line of pale midriff. Which was odd, because one of the things Nadine had noticed about the rest of the Cullravens was that they were all impeccably tan.
Odessa glanced at the screen and seemed satisfied by whatever she saw there, because she let the camera fall and continued on her way, back over the lawn, through another patch of marigolds, towards the bend of the road that apparently led to Ravensgate, although she paused across the street, in full view of the general store, to raise her middle finger to the window.
Wow, Nadine thought, surprised and a little amused. She had chalked up the other woman’s playful belligerence at the wedding to drunkenness, but it seemed she was like that all the time.
She was tempted to follow Odessa back to the house until she remembered her bags—and Helena. With a guilty look at the shop, she turned back towards the street. And paused.
There was a plaque bolted onto the base of the marble statue she’d been hiding under.
Caledon Abial Cullraven, b.1851—1949
“Lower thy honor and raise thy blood and thou wilt soar over heaven.”
Creepy. She was pretty sure that wouldn’t be gracing anybody’s Pinterest board. And he’d lived to be almost one hundred before he died.
This must be Cal’s great-grandfather.
She lifted her hand to shield her eyes as she studied the statue she had previously half-ignored.He’s the spitting image, Helena had said, but seeing was different than believing. Apart from the handlebar mustache and old-fashioned clothing, she could have been looking at Cal. Her Cal.
Not my Cal, she corrected herself instantly, checking the street for cars. She couldn’t hear any traffic. Instead, she heard the faint caw of birds—crows, she thought, or maybe ravens. They seemed to be everywhere.
Thou wilt soar over heaven.
A relieved little laugh escaped her.Ravens. The old man hadn’t been channeling his inner-Lucifer, after all. He’d been making a play on his name.
