A Keeper's Truth Read Online Free

“Archeological Finds that Baffle Scientists.”
    “. . . I
understand, but before you say—”
    “Did you
know they found spearheads and human remains beside extinct mastodon and
mammoth bones in Mexico, proof man hunted large game as far back as the
Pleistocene era?” I keep reading, pretending I don’t hear Karen’s dramatic
sigh. “Apparently the discovery, dated over 250,000 years ago, proves man
walked the Earth long before originally thought.”
    “Look,
Tess, I know getting out will be hard for you, but I’ve thought about it and I
think a party is perfect.”
    I look up
from the magazine. “A what?”
    “I said
we’d go to his Halloween party.”
    “Whose
party?” I shake my head. “No, no way, I’m not going.”
    “Hear me
out, just for a minute.” Karen leans in farther. Her breasts roll onto the arm
of the chair into a sitting position, and her spandex top stretches to
translucency. “Everyone will be in costume, somewhat unrecognizable, so you can
be whomever you wish, in disguise. A few locals will be there, so if you’re not
antisocial, you won’t be stuck in a room full of—”
    “It says
here that water erosion on Egypt’s Great Sphinx dates to 5000 BC, some 2,400
years earlier than archaeologists claimed, and twenty centuries before the dawn
of Egypt itself.”
    I turn the
page, the magazine slick in my hands, but Karen is relentless.
    “There
will be alcohol to ease your nerves, which I’m sensing you’ll need, and food to
keep your hands busy. Pig out if you want. You could use some meat on those
bones.”
    “Karen, I
don’t—”
    “His house
is the old Vandemere estate. It’s only a few blocks
from the school, so you’ll be close to home.”
    She’s
really thought this through and I almost hate to disappoint her, but it’s too
soon. A night of condolences would be nothing but hell.
    “I’m not
going, Karen, but ‘he’ who?”
    “Have you
not listened to a word I’ve said?” She huffs. “Bryce Waters.”
    Adonis. Oh
my.
    Karen
grins at me, teeth showing, eyebrows lost in her hairline. “He insisted I bring
you to the party. Insisted.”
    “I have no
idea who you’re talking about.”
    “Liar,”
she says. She pauses, apparently waiting for a response from me. “You met Bryce
Waters on meet-the-teacher night at the school, ages ago.” She pretends to look
hurt. “I heard all about it, just not from you.”
    Even with
my eyes focused on the magazine, I can see her looking at me.
    “We ran
into each other. Literally. Actually, I walked into his chin. But that was it,
so I’m not sure what you’re—”
    “He’s hot,
Chickpea. Like blow-your-mind hot. And single. You didn’t think to mention
you’d had a moment with the guy?”
    A deep
breath whistles past my lips. A moment? Ha! A mental breakdown is what it was,
pure and simple.
    “There was
nothing to mention.” Nothing I’m willing to spill.
    She’s
trying to be serious, but there’s a sneaky look to her eyes. “He asked if we’re
friends, you and I. He wanted to know about you and of course—”
    “The guy
looks like trouble, Karen.”
    “I was curious
to know why he wanted to know. He said he found you intriguing. Oh, and alluring .”
She rolls the word like a red carpet. “He asked if you were the Tess
Morgan, the artist.”
    Fish on a
hook. I sit straight up, almost knocking the nail polish off the tub.
    “He
recognized my work?”
    “Apparently
he’s a fan of your Wings series. He loved your showing, the one you had a few
years ago at the Landmark Gallery in Oakville.”
    That show
was amazing. I sold almost a dozen paintings including my personal favorite and
the inspiration behind the Wings series, a massive, seven-by-seven-foot canvas
titled Crimson Spirit .
    “Bryce
didn’t meet you the night of the show,” Karen says. “Apparently you were sick.
He met Meyer though.”
    Abby was
the one sick that night. An hour into the show, Grams called to tell us Abby
had spiked a