Chapter Thirteen

That week, I didn't make much progress with the psionic vampire case. But in my defense, Samantha scheduled practice every single night after school, which definitely cut into my sleuthing time.

By Friday, every muscle in my body ached. It had been a long time since gymnastics. So I had to repress a groan when Samantha announced that we'd have a Saturday-morning practice as well.

"Bright and early," she said. "I expect everyone to be there."

"But we have an away game tonight," I protested. "We won't be back until late."

"Suck it up, Giordano," she said. "You need to toughen up if you're going to be a cheerleader."

Miss Foster smiled at me sympathetically but didn't override Sam's order.

"You're doing a great job, Daisy!" she said.

It was a drag to practice on Saturdays, but the football team practiced then, too, so I was looking forward to hanging out with Ryan afterward.

But I never even saw him after practice. I loitered outside the boys' locker room, but he never showed. Finally, I started feeling like a football groupie, so I gave up and walked home alone.

As I left the school, a car pulled up and honked its horn. "Hey, Daisy," Jordan called from the driver's seat, "do you need a ride?"

"No thanks, Jordan," I said. "I'll just walk, it's no biggie." I wanted some time alone to mull over the case.

I still liked being alone more than the average Nightshade cheerleader, but it was nice to know I had options. The old Daisy would have had to walk home by herself. Now I had friends. The thought made me smile the entire way home.

As soon as I got in the house, I checked the machine to see if there were any calls. There weren't. Evidently, having a boyfriend was suspiciously similar to not having a boyfriend, but I refused to sit around moping.

I went into the kitchen and inspected the cupboards. I felt like cooking something special. The kitchen was completely stocked, for a change.

In the living room Rose was studying as usual, while Poppy painted her toenails and watched television.

"I thought I'd make calzones if everyone will be home tonight," I announced. "And maybe we can rent a movie."

I looked at Rose, but Poppy answered. "I was going to go out with Candy, but her grandparents are in town. A night in sounds good, especially if it includes calzones."

"Maybe I'll make a tiramisu, too," I said, peeking at Rose. Tiramisu was her favorite. The book she was reading concealed her expression, but I thought I detected a twinkle in her eyes.

"Mom will be back from Grandma's in a little while," Poppy said. Mom usually spent Saturday afternoons with Grandma Giordano. "I'm sure she'll be glad to have dinner ready when she gets home."

"Great," I said, restraining myself from pointing out to Poppy that she never made dinner for Mom or anyone else. "You and Rose can go to the video store while I cook."

"Maybe we can rent An American Werewolf in London" Rose said as she and Poppy left. It was her favorite movie, and now I knew why.

I decided to make the tiramisu while the calzone dough rose. After I soaked the ladyfingers, I whipped up fresh cream and shaved a slab of dark chocolate. I put everything together in a trifle bowl and put it in the fridge to set.

The bread dough for the calzones was ready. I checked the clock—5:00 P.M. and Mom still wasn't back from Grandma Giordano's—if that's even where she'd been. I wasn't sure about anything since Poppy revealed her suspicion that Mom was still trying to find out what had really happened to Dad.

The phone rang right when I was kneading the dough. I grabbed it with one gooey hand.

"Hello?"

"Daisy, it's Samantha." Perfect timing. And what did she want now?

"Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something."

"Is Ryan there?" she asked. "Is that why you're busy?" She put a particular emphasis on busy. She had a dirty mind.

"I'm cooking, Sam," I said. "Ryan's not here." I wasn't going to tell her I had no idea where Ryan was. It wasn't like we were glued at the hip or anything.

"Then I'm coming over," she said.

"But..." Dial tone.

I was surprised at how fast Samantha got to my house. Right after I finished the dough, I heard a car pull up. I peeked out the window and saw Samantha's cute little BMW convertible in the driveway.

I didn't give her time to ring the doorbell. She was already standing on the stoop, carrying a bag of groceries. Her hair was in a ponytail and she wore black designer sweats with pink trim. If DEAD was stamped on her butt, I was so going to kick her out of my house. Instead, her butt read DIVINE in pink letters.

"What's so urgent?"

"Daisy, are you going to invite me in or what?" Hmm. Did she need to be invited in? Sounded vampy to me.

"You don't need an invitation," I said. I watched her closely, but she just pushed through the front door and headed for the kitchen.

I trailed after her. She put the groceries on the counter and took an appreciative sniff. "It smells great in here. What are you making?"

"Calzones." Samantha used to love those, back when we used to be friends.

"Oh, fabulous! I'm starving." Starving? I thought cheerleaders didn't eat. Except me, which explained why I wasn't going to be climbing to the top of the pyramid any time soon.

I stared at her. "Samantha, what are you doing here?"

For a minute, her bright expression dimmed. I had sounded harsh. "I mean," I hastily continued, "it's Saturday night. Don't you have a date with Sean?"

"Oh, I told him I needed a girls' night out."

"What are you and the rest of the squad going to do?" Samantha only hung with other cheerleaders.

"I thought I'd hang with you tonight."

"Me?" I was surprised.

"You are a cheerleader, Daisy," she reminded me.

Oh, yeah. But not a real cheerleader. I had only joined the squad to investigate. Even so, I was kind of having fun.

"But I'm hanging out with my sisters at home tonight. Movies and junk food. Not very exciting."

"It sounds perfect to me," she said. "I brought ice cream." She gestured to the brown paper sack.

"I'm making a tiramisu," I said, and then realized my reply sounded less than gracious. "It's Rose's favorite, but Poppy loves ice cream."

Samantha looked around the kitchen. "Where are they?" she asked.

"Video store," I said. "Rose wants to see An American Werewolf in London."

"That's still her favorite?" Samantha asked.

"She always did have a thing for the furry ones," I said.

We both giggled and our eyes met, both of us remembering how we used to be friends. Part of me was hoping we could be again, but I wasn't going to admit it to Samantha, at least not until I knew if I could trust her.

"I'd better finish preparing the food," I said. I took the calzone fillings out of the fridge and started to grate the cheese.

"Can I help?"

"It's really a one-person job." And I had no idea what to talk to her about.

"Why don't you pick out some music?" I pointed to the small player on the kitchen counter. "We can use this, but most of the CDs are in the living room."

"I'll go get them," she said.

I expected her to choose some trendy dance music, but she didn't. Instead, she put an oldies compilation into the CD player.

"Remember this song?" she said. "Your parents used to dance to it in the kitchen."

I snapped the stereo off. "That was a long time ago."

"I didn't mean..." She trailed off, and I was surprised to see tears in her eyes. "Daisy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I did that year, everything I said."

"Why'd you do it, Sam? Why did you tell everyone that my dad left my mom for another woman?"

"Because I thought it was true." Our eyes were locked, which is why I didn't realize my mom was home until I heard her long shaky breath.

Could it be possible that my mother had never heard the rumors? That she really didn't have a clue?

The look on her face told me she had heard every rumor but that she didn't expect me to believe any of them. And now she knew I did.