Secrets and Lies(43)

“He knows you well. The only way to get Sydney Morgan to go to a party is to make her throw one. Or,” he added, tapping his chin thoughtfully, “to lead her there with a trail of candy and coffee.”

“Don’t get any ideas,” Sydney warned, pointing a finger at him.

“I make no promises,” Calum replied. His expression grew serious as he inserted the memory card into the computer. He began clicking and typing away, grunting in concentration under his breath.

Sydney suppressed a smirk. “Do you always sound like a gremlin when you work?”

“Unnn,” Calum grunted in response.

Sydney leaned back in her chair, watching him. There was something compelling about his focus. His lips were set in concentration, his fingers were tight around the mouse, and there was a light in his eyes she’d never seen before. He looked as if he fit there, as if the computer was exactly where he was supposed to be. It made her itch for her camera. Maybe Genius at Work could have served as her hometown photo.

On the computer screen, an image of Great Harbor Beach suddenly popped up. Then another, and another. Sydney shot forward in her chair. “Oh my god. You actually did it.”

Calum dusted his palms off on his jeans. “All in a day’s work, ma chérie.”

Sydney scooted in, propping her elbows up on the desk. More photos were filling the screen by the second. She felt a stir of excitement as she began to click through them. There was one in particular she was looking for. That night, she’d seen five lights flash over the ocean: five ghostly flickers.

She knew it was probably just some freaky reflection. She knew there was very little chance her camera had caught it even if it wasn’t. But still… she had to see for herself. She couldn’t imagine a more “awe-inspiring” photo than Echo Bay’s ghost lights.

She clicked through boring shot after boring shot. Next to her, Calum stood up and began fiddling with another computer, grunting under his breath again. Sydney’s vision was just starting to blur over when she saw it. She let out a soft exhale.

It was an incredible shot. The tip of the Phantom Rock jutted out of the ocean, sharp and jagged and gray. And shooting into the sky above it, like a hand reaching for the moon, were five wispy beams of light.

She could barely stay in her seat as she clicked on the photo and watched it fill the massive screen. Magnified like that, the image was even more unbelievable. It was both crisp and luminescent, every shadow just right. It was one of the best photos she’d ever taken. And there was no doubt what it captured: the ghost lights.

Sydney’s skin sizzled. It was the perfect shot for her application. But how was it even possible? The ghost lights couldn’t be real. Could they?

She bent in, studying the lights. They arched from the Phantom Rock all the way up to the cliffs. In the smaller version, the cliffs had been barely a blip in the corner. But blown up this large, she could make out their rough curves and craggy peaks and—what was that?

She leaned even closer, until her nose was skimming the screen. There was a black shadow on the edge of the cliffs. It was strange.… Up close like this, the shadow looked as if it belonged to a person. A person who was standing right where the lights originated. She e-mailed the photo to herself, only half paying attention to what she was doing. Her thoughts were too scrambled to focus on anything else.

If this photo was really of the ghost lights… and that shadow at the origin of the lights really belonged to a person… then there was one very logical conclusion. Someone was creating the ghost lights.

She closed her eyes, feeling dazed. She’d wondered a million times over the years if the lights were a trick of the moonlight or some fluke of nature or just the result of one too many overactive imaginations. Never once had she considered the possibility that they might be faked.

“Holy cow!”

Calum’s voice made Sydney’s eyes pop back open. He was standing over her, staring wide-eyed at the computer. “That looks like…” he began.

“I know,” she said shakily. She was about to point out the shadow on the cliffs when Calum suddenly let out a laugh.

“Forgive me,” he said, looking aghast. “For a microsecond there I almost became one of them!”

“One of the ghost lights?” Sydney asked, confused.

He shook his head, making his wet curls fly from side to side. “No, one of the charlatans with an IQ of negative three who actually believes in all that nonsense.” He peered closely at the image. “It’s clearly just an illusion. Probably the oxidation of phosphine, diphosphane, and methane. We learned about that at science camp one year. The combination can cause photon emissions.”

Sydney stared at the shadow on the cliffs. Her heart was beating so loudly she was sure Calum could hear it. “Photon emissions,” she repeated. “Obviously.”

Calum reached over her shoulder and pulled out the memory card. The computer screen went blank. “Come on,” he said, tossing the card to her. “Your photos have been saved by Super-Calum. Let’s bring this tour to completion.”

Sydney tried to stay calm as Calum led her up another flight of stairs. He was probably right. She could still use the photo for her application, but in reality it was probably photo—whatever he said—a phenomenon fully explained by modern science. If anyone would know, it was Calum.

“This is it,” Calum announced. They came to a stop in front of the only door on the third floor. “The place where the magic happens, where the genius is born, where—”

Sydney nudged him aside and opened the door. “To borrow a phrase from you, holy cow,” she said as she stepped into the room. Calum’s bedroom took up the entire third floor of the house. There was a seating area on one side, a king-size bed on the other, and a huge work space in the middle, featuring a massive flat-screen computer. It was surprisingly well decorated for a teenage boy’s room, with striped green pillows on the couch; a soft green rug on the floor; and actual paintings hanging on the walls. But Sydney paid little attention to any of it. Her eyes went directly to the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran along the entire back wall.

Outside, Echo Bay unspooled before them, perfect and miniature, like a page out of a pop-up storybook. She could make out the line of mansions on Dune Way, the colorful awnings on Main Street, and even part of Great Harbor Beach, where white-tipped waves crashed steadily against the sand. “This is amazing.”

Looking down on Echo Bay like that, it made her whole life seem far away—like Abby and the Kyla mystery and even Guinness were nothing more than tiny pieces on a checkerboard. “I don’t think I’d ever leave the house if I had a view like this,” she said, only half joking. She walked up to the window and pressed her nose to the glass, imagining the lives unfolding beneath her: people arriving at the homecoming game, or putting out pumpkins on Echo Boulevard. “I’d just stay up here all the time, feeling like I was queen of the town.”

“You might very well be queen soon,” Calum pointed out. He went over to stand next to her. “Just a few hours until the moment of truth, right?”

Sydney shrugged. “I guess. Who cares? I’m not even going to the dance.”

“What?” Calum turned to her with a stern expression. “You’re nominated for homecoming queen, Syd. It’s essentially your duty to go.”

“This coming from the guy who’s boycotting the homecoming game?”

“That’s the game, not the dance. Besides, I’m not nominated to the court.” Calum put his hands on her shoulders, forcing her to face him. “I know you’re a high school cynic, Sydney Morgan, but I refuse to let you skip your senior year homecoming dance. You’re going tonight, and I will escort you.”

“That’s nice, Calum,” Sydney began, “but—”

“No buts. Remember that colossal favor you promised me in return for the whole fake-fire thing?” Calum smiled triumphantly at her. “Well, I’m calling it in. Which means you can’t refuse. We’re going, and we will have fun.”

Sydney groaned loudly. “You’re the worst.”

“I believe you’ve got your adjectives confused.” Calum’s smile widened. “I’m sure what you meant to say is, I’m the best.”

Sydney narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, Mr. Conniving, answer me this: What am I supposed to wear tonight? I don’t exactly have a closet full of dresses at home.”

“You?” Calum feigned surprise. “Shocking.” He cocked his head to the side, looking thoughtful. “I think I might actually be able to help you with that.”

Sydney put her hands on her hips. “I am not wearing a tux from your closet, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“Never. I’ll be back in a minute. If I don’t return with a dress that meets your approval, then you’re excused from your favor. Deal?”

“Sure,” Sydney replied. Her phone beeped inside her purse, and she dug around for it as she talked. “But, for the record, I’m very picky about my dresses.”

Sydney sighed as Calum disappeared from the room, pounding loudly down the stairs. Normally, she’d be almost touched by his concern for her high school experience. But after everything that had happened this week—this day—a dance was the last thing she could handle. She would just have to be honest with Calum, tell him about Guinness and that she wasn’t up for being around a lot of people tonight. Besides, she already had plans with her mom.