Chapter 5
Revelations
The next morning after breakfast, Claire's doorbell rang. She found Sheila waiting on the front porch.
"I dreamed of Héloïse last night," she said, "after Bonnie came back from the Halloween party all worked up. What happened?"
Claire motioned her inside and made for the kitchen, Cicero following after them. "I bumped into the man who was watching my class on the first day of school," she answered as she went about making coffee. "I felt as if someone had dunked me in cold water." She paused, turning to Sheila.
The older woman was peering at her, giving her the same shrewd look she had given her when Claire had shared that information about her dreams back in early September.
"What your grandmother said about the frost of death."
It was a realization, bur Claire bobbed her head once nonetheless. She returned to the table with the steaming cups, and Cicero jumped into her lap as soon as she sat. She cradled her mug.
"The attacks – now, those in previous decades, the one in the 1800s – my mother's research, grandma's words . . . It all adds up." Claire let out a breath and flexed her fingers against Cicero's fur. "I feel I'm going to get caught up in it, and I don't want to."
"Whatever this is – or will be – if it doesn't affect you or those near you, it's not your problem," Sheila said. "Staying out of it is a choice."
Claire put her cup down slowly. "You're right. Plus, it may be nothing." She drew her lips into a lukewarm smile and turned her attention to Cicero again.
•
Nothing strange happened the following days. There was some commotion at the Grill during a party, caused by a bartender serving alcohol to minors, but that was the extent of it. Things remained quiet.
As the month and school weeks wore on, Claire observed that Jeremy became more invested in his classes. His attendance record went from patchy to spotless; he showed actual involvement in class; he turned in homework. Claire didn't know what had brought about the sudden change, but Jeremy showed he wanted to be there, and noting that made her happy.
Jenna had given her a beaming look when Claire told her. "I know! It's like something switched and he went back to his old self."
Her whole face had lit up, and Claire felt she was almost mimicking her expression. She realized that Jenna herself was also more like the Jenna of old, no longer smarting over the fact that Logan had left her again.
Apart from that pleasant turn of events, the most exciting occurrence was the arrival of the new history teacher just before Thanksgiving. With the exception of where he came from and where he rented a place, Claire missed out on gossip, driving up to Baltimore to visit her mother and sister for the holiday.
Her mother's apartment was as bright as if it had been summer, and the smell of roasting turkey was already in the air when she arrived.
"That smells great." Claire kissed her and took off her scarf, hanging it and her coat by the door.
"Your dad's recipe." Her mother smiled and went back to the kitchen.
Claire glanced around at the tidy living space – books arranged neatly in the bookcase, a couple of magazines stacked carefully near one end of the coffee table, a small collection of photos arrayed on the buffet – and then back at her mother. She did look well indeed, her hair cropped shorter than before and her face radiant.
"The gravy?"
"All yours." Her mother gestured to the kitchen island where a bowl, two cups and seasonings waited.
Claire's sister and brother-in-law arrived not long afterward.
"Any news from Mystic Falls?" Diane asked as she set the table.
Claire's first thought was the high school Halloween party. Emil didn't know, though, and besides, there was no reason to worry them needlessly.
"The new history teacher came yesterday," she said. "He's from Boston, and he rented Mrs. Tanner's place on Monticello Street."
Diane lifted an eyebrow. "Not one for much socializing, then?"
Her husband looked up from where he was cutting the salad. "It's out of town?"
"In the town square," Claire answered, "but the building only has six apartments or so, all of them family-owned."
Her mother took the turkey out of the oven. "Perhaps he just wants his privacy."
"Yeah," Claire agreed. "There'll be a formal introduction on Monday. Any news on your end?"
"We're moving the practice to a bigger office," Diane said. "And we've been invited to speak at the association's conference in May." She handed her mother the carving knife.
•
The new history teacher was among the first to arrive at school on Monday morning. Principal Weber introduced him as Alaric Saltzman to the staff and proceeded to name his colleagues one by one.
"What do you think of Mystic Falls so far?" Phoebe, the English teacher, asked.
"It's . . . quaint," he said. "I like the quiet."
One corner of Phoebe's mouth quirked. "Nothing much happens here, recent events excluded."
Alaric's eyes glinted, his eyebrows raising. "Recent events?" He sounded rather interested but not alarmed.
"Animal attacks – a cougar. It was caught two months ago, not to worry," Phoebe said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
The history teacher hummed, clearly still intrigued.
"How are you settling in, Alaric?" Claire was quick to inquire.
He turned to her. "My landlady has been very accommodating." He opened his mouth and then paused, squinting slightly.
"Claire," Claire offered. "Art."
Alaric gave her a sheepish grin, lowering his gaze for just a moment. "Sorry, it's been a little overwhelming with all the names today."
"Understandable," Claire returned the small smile.
"And it's just Ric, please," he went on just as the bell rang.
Claire nodded, picking up her things and making for the door after the others. "Good luck."
•
Jenna, like many people in town, was intrigued by the new high school staff member.
"Observation," she said as soon as Claire answered the phone, "the new history teacher's hot."
Claire couldn't help a snort of laughter. "I thought you'd sworn off." She put the call on loudspeaker and went about setting the table.
"One can still appreciate something beautiful," Jenna returned. "And he's got that mysterious vibe. Jeremy introduced us at the Grill."
Claire hummed, turning her attention to the plate in front of her. "He seems like a decent guy," she said once she swallowed a bite.
"He does," Jenna agreed. "Although given my track record . . ."
Claire let out a huff. "Oh, stop it. A couple of relationships that turned bad don't mean you're doomed."
"Ever the optimist." Jenna's tone turned lighter. "Let's hope you're right."
Claire forked another piece of salad. "That part is up to you." She could picture her friend's mouth twitching at the words.
"Trust my gut, better choices . . . I know." There was momentary silence on Jenna's end, and then a sigh. "I'll go get something to eat. Talk tomorrow."
"OK. Bye."
Claire hung up and reached for the book at the far end of the table, continuing her reading as she finished her dinner.
•
She let her eyes drift closed. Her grip on the book loosened. The paperback's tipping forward brought Claire back to the present, and she set the novel on her lap. Her eyelids drooped again.
When she felt herself jolt to full consciousness, her heart was hammering. Her pulse was deafening. She allowed herself a few seconds to calm down, but the sense of dread didn't lessen. She had no recollection of dreaming whatsoever. Everything was a blank. Only that terrible emotion was a constant.
Claire looked at the clock beside the TV. It was after eight. She had dozed for almost an hour.
Willing herself to move, she got up and went upstairs, her heartbeat still loud in her ears. Retrieving her phone and her MP3 player from the bedroom, Claire made a brief stop to the kitchen to top up Cicero's water bowl and left the house.
The upbeat melody highlighted by guitar and bass blasted in her ears as she jogged. It wasn't long before the sensation of terror to which she had woken ebbed away, slowly fading to nothing.
A man appeared into her path from a side street, and Claire started. She slowed her pace to avoid collision. When the man turned toward her, she realized she knew him.
Claire removed one earbud. "You're back in town." She fumbled with the buttons of her MP3 player with one hand. It slipped from her grasp.
Logan Fell caught the device at the same time as she made a grab for it. Her fingers bumped against his skin. Claire felt a chill snake up her arm. She looked up at him, and he dropped the player into her palm, his eyes glinting.
"I am," he said, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
Her mind was racing. Claire held herself still, focusing on him. "Don't mess with Jenna." She made minimal effort to hide her dislike, and Logan's expression became a little more smug.
Claire didn't like the look on his face. She had resisted the urge to tense, but once Logan had turned without a word and begun walking away, she flexed her hands, feeling her fingers tingle. Her gaze followed him. He disappeared from sight. She stared into the emptiness for what felt like an eternity before she let herself relax. At that moment she realized Logan had been heading in the direction of the Gilbert house.
Maybe she was worrying too much. Maybe not. She stuffed the MP3 player into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She hesitated. Then, she dialed Jenna's number.
"Guess which asshole was just here." Jenna sounded irritated.
"I saw him," Claire said. "That's why I called." She started walking.
"The scumbag wanted me to let him in." Jenna's voice was hard. "I shut the door in his face."
Claire closed her eyes, letting out a slow breath. "Good. Be careful around him." She paused for a long moment. "He's proven he's not trustworthy."
"I know." Jenna's tone had turned exasperated, and Claire knew she was annoyed at herself for thinking Logan could have changed.
"Avoid him if you can."
Jenna laughed. "Oh, I have no intention of voluntarily talking to him again."
Claire caught herself nodding.
As soon as they hung up, she called Sheila. "You haven't gone outside tonight, have you?" she asked when the line connected.
"No . . . Why?" Sheila spoke slowly, the alertness in her voice unmistakable.
"Logan Fell."
The silence was deafening. Claire counted the seconds that went by.
"Oh."
It was a curt sound, and Claire knew Sheila had connected the dots.
"I thought you should know," she said.
Another brief silence.
"Hopefully, whatever this is will pass," Sheila replied.
Without complications, Claire thought. "Hopefully."
•
The school was packed. Claire weaved between students and parents, heading toward the desk where the sketchbooks were on display. Jeremy was there, studying a drawing with a slight frown on his face.
Claire glanced at the piece he was looking at. "I want one of yours for the next career fair," she said. "The one you showed me last week was really good."
Jeremy looked up slowly. "I didn't know Tyler could draw." He didn't turn to her.
Claire blinked. "People can always surprise us."
"Yeah," Jeremy agreed absently. He drew himself up. "Excuse me." He stepped away from the table and walked off.
Claire watched him disappear round the corner and turned to the desk.
"Ms. Duval?"
The redhead who had called her was one of her seniors.
"I was looking up L'École du Louvre in Paris, and, since your family's French, I was thinking you might know more about it?" the girl said.
Claire considered telling her that her father's family actually came from the south of France, but, even so, this was one question she could answer. "It is one of the best art schools in the country," she replied. "The curriculum's extensive, you'll have classes held in museums —"
Out of the corner of her eye, Claire saw a familiar figure. She turned. Logan Fell had walked by. Her heart caught in her chest, and she stared after him. Nothing had happened yet, but . . . Was this one of those times when the advice 'If it doesn't affect you, don't get involved' applied? Those in the school were considered her group, weren't they? But nothing had happened, yet.
"Ms. Duval?"
The girl in her senior class pulled her out of her thoughts. Claire turned back to her, the frown on her face vanishing.
"I'm sorry, Allison, I got distracted for a moment. As I was saying, L'École du Louvre is one of the prestigious schools in France, but there are no courses in English." She kept Logan in her peripheral vision.
•
Once Allison was satisfied and left to rejoin some friends, Claire made her way to the main hall. Logan Fell was nowhere to be seen. Everything was as quiet as could be. Rounding the corner, though, she realized she had probably just missed a fight. The small crowd in front of her was breaking up; Mayor Lockwood, Tyler and Jeremy were walking away; Ric was staring after them, his jaw set.
Claire came to a stop beside him. "What happened?"
"Jeremy and Tyler had a fight. The Mayor said he was gonna talk to them." His gaze didn't shift, even though the aforementioned individuals were no longer in sight.
"You don't believe him."
"Nope." He squared his shoulders and set off, making a beeline for the school exit.
Claire stood for a moment and then followed him. She reached the door that led to the parking lot moments after it had closed behind Ric. Prepared to step outside, she hesitated and hung back when the mayor all but ordered the two teenagers to fight it out.
She kept a hand on the door latch, frowning. He actually wanted them to resolve whatever difference of opinion they'd had by engaging in a boxing match. What had got into him? So much for role models. At least Ric was acting as the voice of reason. His choice of words was going to land him in the mayor's black book for the foreseeable future, but he was still right.
Tyler and his father were walking away. Claire stood at the door long enough to see Jeremy nod when Ric asked him if he was alright, and then took a step back, closing the door carefully.
Liz Forbes was hurrying toward her, her phone pressed to her ear and her eyebrows pushed together.
"Have you seen my daughter?" The words came out in a rush.
"No —"
"I can't find her."
Claire thought she had never seen the sheriff look anxious before. "She's not answering her phone?"
Liz lowered her arm. "No."
"Do you want me to help you look for her?"
The sheriff paused for an instant and then shook her head sharply, offering a faint upturn of her lips. "She probably went home with Bonnie. I just thought she'd say goodbye first."
Claire nodded slowly. "OK. If she hasn't, I'll tell her you were looking for her."
"Thank you, Claire." Liz response was terse. She put her phone in her pocket and continued towards the door.
Claire didn't move. Seeing the sheriff so discomposed was a first. Maybe she really wasn't expecting Caroline to have left without letting her know. She began walking back to the main hall.
Speaking of odd . . . Claire felt relieved she couldn't see Logan anywhere.
She saw Bonnie coming out of a classroom and caught up with her before the girl moved away.
"Bonnie! Have you seen Caroline? Her mom was looking for her."
The teenager shook her head. "She left me a voice mail a little while ago, but now she won't answer her phone."
Claire frowned.
"That news guy, Logan, gave her a ride home." Matt Donovan came up to them.
A little shiver crawled up Claire's spine. Then she gave a half-nod. "I'll call the Sheriff and let her know." She followed Matt outside but stood near the entrance for a few moments, gazing at nothing, before making for her car.
Once home, she went straight to the living room and took out an old map of Mystic Falls and a box from a little cabinet. She spread the map on the coffee table. Reaching for the lid of the box, she paused.
Maybe she was jumping to conclusions too quickly. It could be nothing.
Claire found Liz Forbes' number in her contacts and called. She opened the lid of the small wooden box, running the thin chain inside through her fingers as she waited.
"Sheriff, I saw Matt Donovan at the fair earlier. He said Logan Fell gave Caroline a ride home."
"Yeah, she's home," the sheriff replied. There was a small pause. "But I didn't see Logan. He told me he was going out of town again."
Claire recalled her meeting with Logan the previous night. "Well, since Caroline's alright, I'll let you rest."
"Thank you for calling."
Claire put her phone away and tapped the chain in the box. Despite Caroline's being alright, there had still been tension in the sheriff's voice. She shut the lid and moved the box and map back to their place.
•
"Clai—"
Her hand on her car's door-handle, Claire looked up to see Jeremy pause mid-jog and glance at the students around him.
"Ms. Duval," he corrected himself. "I wanted to apologize for last night. It was rude of me to leave like that." He hiked his bag higher on his shoulder.
Claire shook her head. "No need to apologize, Jeremy. It happens."
He gave her a slow, crooked smile. "I will definitely get you a sketch for the next career fair."
His mood was infectious.
"Great."
His eyes still bright, Jeremy backed a few steps before turning to join the throng of students leaving the school.
•
It was late in the evening when Claire got a call from Jenna.
"Elena lied to me today," she said. "She told me she'd spent the night at Bonnie's and gone straight to school in the morning, and then I got a call from her French teacher telling me she missed today's quiz. He asked me if she was sick. And I had to lie."
Claire heard Jenna exhale loudly. She gave her a moment. "Did you manage to reach her?"
"She answered her phone a little while ago, but I couldn't hear her clearly." Jenna fell silent. "I have no idea where she is." She sounded tired.
"At least you know nothing's happened to her."
Jenna sighed. "Yeah . . . She is so gonna hear it when she gets home. Making me sick with worry . . ." She let out another loud breath. "I'll let you know once I have news."
"Get some rest," Claire prompted. "Goodnight."
•
Jenna called her again first thing in the morning. Elena had come home, and the two of them had had a fallout, but Jenna wouldn't talk about it over the phone. Claire invited her over. It was a good thing she had a free period at school. It had been some time since she'd heard her friend so upset.
She filled the kettle with water and took it to the stove. Jenna was going to need tea. She was gathering her jars of dried herbs and teabags when the doorbell rang.
Jenna went straight to the couch and flopped down on it.
"I never thought she'd lie to me." She shook her head. "She didn't even tell me where she'd been, or with whom, and then she got mad I didn't tell her she was adopted." As the last word left her mouth, Jenna's eyes widened, and she instantly went very still. The silence was sudden and complete.
"What?" Claire opened her mouth, said nothing, and then raised a finger. "Give me a minute." She hurried to the kitchen. A few minutes later she came back with two steaming mugs.
"Chamomile and lavender." She held one in front of her friend.
Jenna sighed, stared at the mug but reached out to take it all the same.
Claire sat and turned to face her. "Elena's adopted?"
Jenna nodded to her cup. "Yeah. Miranda and Grayson had difficulty conceiving, and then this pregnant teenager practically fell into their lap. She gave birth and then disappeared. Grayson handled all the paperwork, every detail. Only a few people knew the truth. They were going to tell Elena eventually, so they made me promise not to tell her before they were ready." She watched Claire for her reaction.
"Is she alive?"
Jenna cradled her mug closer. "I don't know," she said. "All I know is her name's Isobel." She drank and then made an inarticulate noise of surprise. "This is good."
Claire lifted a shoulder. "I know my craft."
Chapter 5 soundtrack
• Passing Afternoon, Iron & Wine — Claire and her family catch up over the Thanksgiving meal
• This Is the Life, Amy MacDonald — Claire goes jogging and runs into Logan
• Hug Bubble, Placebo — Claire sees Logan at the career fair at school
• Wasted Me, 3 Doors Down — Jenna talks about Elena