"I didn't realize you noticed, Grandma," Adam said.
"Oh, I notice more than people think," Mrs. Franklin chuckled, picking up a cookie and popping it into her mouth. Her gray hair was piled untidily on her head in braids, and there was a disorganized air about her that contrasted with the austere white and gold parlor. Cassie liked her.
"What's going on, Laurel?" a quavery voice asked, and Cassie looked at Granny Quincey, a tiny woman with a face like a dried apple. She was actually Laurel's great-grandmother, and she was so little and light she looked as if a puff of wind would blow her away.
"Well - " Laurel looked at Adam, who spoke up.
"Actually, it has something to do with what my grandmother asked me. What I was out doing last night. And it has to do with something that happened a long time ago, right around the time all of us kids were born."
Great-aunt Constance was really frowning now, and Granny Quincey's lips were pursed together. Old Mrs. Franklin was chuckling, but she was looking around the room in a way that made Cassie wonder if she'd really heard her grandson.
"Well?" Great-aunt Constance said sharply. "Explain yourself."
Adam glanced back at the rest of the Circle, all of whom were beaconing their support, silently electing him spokesman. He took a deep breath and turned back to the old women.
"What I was out doing was shadowing our new high-school principal, Mr. Jack Brunswick," he said. The name elicited no reaction. "I think you might have known him under a different name." Utter silence.
"The name we're all most familiar with is Black John," said Adam.
The silence was shattered as Great-aunt Constance stood so abruptly that one of the fragile willow-patterned tea cups dashed to the floor.
"Get out of this house! Get out!" she said to Adam.
Chapter Six
"Aunt Constance!" Melanie gasped.
"You heard me," the dark-haired woman said to Adam. She looked at the rest of the group. "Get out of here, all of you! I don't like that kind of joke, especially now. Haven't you made enough trouble with your meddling? Poor Alexandra in the guest room, and Maeve scarcely in the ground . . . Melanie, I want them out of the house!"
Laurel and Granny Quincey were both fluttering. "Oh dear, oh dear," Granny Quincey was saying, raising hands that looked like little bird claws, and "Oh, please, Miss Burke," Laurel was beseeching, almost in tears.
"You have no respect at all," Aunt Constance said, breathing hard. Her eyes were as bright as if she had a fever.
"Young people never do, Constance," Adam's grandmother said, chuckling. "Why, I remember when we were their age, the mischief we used to get up to ... oh, me." Still laughing and shaking her head, Adam's grandmother popped another cookie in her mouth.
"Grandma, please listen. It's not a joke," Adam began helplessly, but it was no use. There was too much noise; everyone was talking at once. Over it all Great-aunt Constance continued to order them out, telling Melanie to forget about the mess on the floor and just go. Granny Quincey was twittering and making calming gestures, which everybody ignored. Old Mrs. Franklin was smiling at them all benevolently. Diana was pleading with Melanie's aunt to listen, but to no avail.
"For the last time!" Aunt Constance cried, flapping a hand as if to shoo Diana and the Club out the door.
"Miss Burke!" Cassie yelled. She felt close to tears herself, although Nick had been quietly trying to escort her out since the shouting had started. Cassie didn't want to go; she thought she understood what Great-aunt Constance was talking about when she mentioned the kids' meddling. "Miss Burke," she repeated, forcing her way forward again. She found herself directly in front of Great-aunt Constance.
"I'm sorry," Cassie said, and it was suddenly quiet enough that she could hear the unsteadiness in her own voice. "It's my mom that's in your guest room, and you know how grateful I am that you're taking care of her. And it's my grandmother that's in the ground. But who do you think did that to them? It wasn't the Club. My grandmother told me before she died that he had planned all along to come back, and that she always knew he would manage to do it. It's true that it's partly the Circle's fault he's back - it's partly my fault. And we're sorry, more sorry than you can know. But he really is here." She paused a moment, then added in almost a whisper, "Really."
Aunt Constance was breathing very quickly through her nose. She drew herself up more regally than ever, her lips a thin red slash across her face.
"I'm afraid I can't believe any of what you're saying. It is simply im-impossible - " The woman's expression changed, twisting in pain. She gave a gasp and clutched at her chest.
"Aunt Constance," Melanie cried, rushing to her. It took both her and Adam to help the rigid woman to a chair.
"Should I call a doctor?" Diana asked.
"No!" Aunt Constance said, lifting her head. "It's nothing. I'm all right now."
"It's not nothing, Constance," a quavery voice said, and Cassie saw Granny Quincey getting off the sofa to come stand beside the chair. "It's your heart telling you the truth. I think we'd better listen to these children."
There was a silence while Melanie's aunt looked at Melanie, then at Adam, then at Cassie. Cassie forced herself to return the piercing gaze.
Aunt Constance's eyes shut and she slowly leaned back in the chair.
"You're right," she said, without looking at anyone. "Come in, all of you, and find somewhere to sit down. Then you can tell your story."