What was important nowwas that: 1) This guy was the brother of those girls; 2) He might be in on whatever had happened to Mrs. B.; and, 3) If he wasn'tin on it, he might be able to help with some informa tion. Such as whether his aunt had left a will, and if so, who got the family jewels.
She glanced at Ash from the side of her eye. He definitely looked calmer. Hackles going down. Chest lifting more slowly. They were both switching gear.
"So Rowan and Kestrel and Jade are your sisters," she said, with all the polite nonchalance she could muster. "They seem nice."
"I didn't know you knew them," Claudine said,and Mary-Lynnette realized her stepmother was hovering in the doorway, petite shoulder against thedoorjamb, arms crossed, dishtowel in hand. "I told him you hadn't met them."
"Mark and I went over there yesterday," MaryLynnette said. And when she said it, something flashed in Ash's face--something there and gone before she could really analyze it. But it made her feelas ifshe were standing on the edge of a cliff in a cold wind.
Why? What could be wrong with mentioning she'd met the girls?
"You and Mark . . .and Mark would be-yourbrother?"
"That's right," Claudine said from the doorway.
"Any other brothers or sisters?"
Mary-Lynnette blinked. "What, you're taking a census?"
Ash did a bad imitation of his former lazy smile. "I just like to keep track of my sisters' friends."
Why?"To see if you approve or something?"
"Actually, yes." He did the smile again, with moresuccess. "We're an old-fashioned family. Very old-fashioned."
Mary-Lynnette's jaw dropped. Then, all at once,she felt happy. Now she didn't need to think about murders or pink rooms or what this guy knew. All she needed to think about was what she was goingto do to him.
"So you're an old-fashioned family," she said, moving a step forward.
Ash nodded.
"And you're in charge," Mary-Lynnette said.
"Well, out here. Back home, my father is."
"And you're just going to tell your sisters which friends they can have. Maybe you get to decide your aunt's friends, too?"
"Actually, I was just discussing that...."He waved a hand toward Claudine.
Yes, you were, Mary-Lynnette realized. She took another step toward Ash, who was still smiling.
"Oh, no," Claudine said. She flapped her dishtowelonce. "Don't smile."
"I like a girl with spirit," Ash offered, as if he'dworked hard on finding the most obnoxious thing possible to say. Then, with a sort of determined bravado, he winked, reached out, and chucked Mary-Lynnette under the chin.
Fzzz! Sparks. Mary-Lynnette sprang back. So didAsh, looking at his own hand as if it had betrayed him.
Mary-Lynnette had an inexplicable impulse to knock Ash flat and fall down on top of him. She'd never felt that for any boy before.
She ignored the impulse and kicked him in the shin.
He yelped and hopped backward. Once again the sleepy smugness was gone from his face. He looked alarmed.
"I think you'd better go away now," Mary-Lynnette said pleasantly. She was amazed at herself.
She'd never been the violent type. Maybe there werethings hidden deep inside her that she'd never suspected.
Claudine was gasping and shaking her head. Ashwas still hopping, but not going anywhere. MaryLynnette advanced on him again. Even though he was half a head taller, he backed up. He stared at her in something like wonder.
"Hey. Hey, look, you know, you really don't knowwhat you're doing," he said. "If you knew..."
AndMary-Lynnette saw it again-something in his face that made him suddenly look not fatuous or amiable at all. Like the glitter of a knife blade in the light. Something that saiddanger... .
"Oh, go bother someone else, " Mary-Lynnette said. She drew back her foot for another kick.
He opened his mouth, then shut it. Still holding his shin, he looked at Claudine and managed a hurt and miserable flirtatious smile.
"Thanks so much for all your-"
"Go!"
He lost the smile. "That's what I'm doingl" He limped to the front door. She followed him.
"What do they call you, anyway?" he asked from the front yard, as if he'd finally found the comebackhe'd been looking for. "Mary? Marylin? M'lin?
M.L.?"
"They call me Mary-Lynnette," Mary-Lynnette said flatly, and added under her breath, "That do speak of me." She'd read The Taming of the Shrew in honors English last year.
"Oh, yeah? How about M'lin the cursed?" He was still backing away.
Mary-Lynnette was startled. So maybe his class hadread it, too. But he didn't look smart enough to quote Shakespeare.
"Have fun with your sisters," she said, and shutthe door. Then she leaned against it, trying to get herbreath. Her fingers and face were prickly-numb, as if she were going to faint.
If those girls had only murderedhim, I'd understand, she thought. But they're all sostrange-there's something seriously weird about that whole family.
Weird in a way that scared her. If she'd believed in premonitions, she'd have been even more scared.
She had a bad feeling-a feeling that things weregoing to happen....
Claudine was staring at her from the living room.
"Very fabulous," she said. "You've just kicked a guest. Now, what was that all about?""He wouldn't leave."
"You know what I mean. Do you two know eachother?"
Mary-Lynnette just shrugged vaguely. The dizziness was passing, but her mind was swimming with questions.
Claudine looked at her intently, then shook herhead. "I remember my little brother-when he wasfour years old he used to push a girl flat on her face in the sandbox. He did it to show he liked her."