Chapter 16 He Disappeared

C orky leapt to her feet, staring straight ahead through the darkness as the creature struggled to rise into the room.

Her mouth open in horror, Kimmy grabbed the flashlight and aimed it at the hole in the floor.

The creature whimpered and scratched at the floorboards.

“It’s a dog!” Corky cried.

Debra’s face fell.

Corky and Kimmy rushed forward and worked to pull the dog out of the hole in the floor. “You smelly thing,” Kimmy said, petting its head and scratching its ears. “How did you get stuck down there?”

The dog, a forlorn-looking mutt with damp tangles of long brown fur, licked Kimmy’s nose appreciatively.

“Don’t let him lick you, Kimmy,” Corky teased. “You don’t know where he’s been.”

“A dog. I don’t believe it,” Debra said, sighing.

Wagging its shaggy tail, the dog circled the room excitedly, sniffing furiously along the floor.

“Maybe he smells the evil spirit,” Kimmy said sarcastically to Debra.

“Not funny,” Debra muttered, gathering up the candles. “I really thought we were close to something.”

“Me too,” Corky said, watching the dog as it loped out of the room. “I was so scared when we heard the thing start to come up from the floorboards.”

“Bow-wow,” Kimmy said dryly, rolling her eyes.

“I’m not giving up,” Debra insisted.

“I am,” Kimmy said emphatically. “I’m freezing.” She handed the flashlight back to Corky and started toward the front door.

“Kimmy, wait,” Corky called. “Want to come to my house?”

Kimmy turned back and shook her head. “No, thanks. I’m going home and getting into a hot bath.”

“But—”

“Let her go,” Debra said glumly.

“See you in school tomorrow,” Kimmy called from the front entryway, then disappeared from view.

Corky turned back to Debra, who slammed her book shut and tucked it under her arm. “I was so psyched,” she told Corky. “So psyched”

“Me too,” Corky said.

“We’re the only ones who know the evil spirit is loose,” Debra said, heading to the front. “The only ones.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Corky agreed sadly. “My own parents change the subject every time I try to tell them the truth.”

“That’s why we have to do something,” Debra said.

“I just keep thinking about Sarah Beth Plummer and Jon Daly,” Corky said with a shudder. She pulled up the collar of her down coat and buried her face inside it like a turtle as she followed Debra to the door.

They stepped outside, surprised to find it warmer there than in the house.

“Yeah. That sounded like a pretty bizarre scene, the two of them in the cemetery,” Debra said thoughtfully. Her expression brightened. “You know what? We should check them out.”

“You mean go talk to them?” Corky asked, following her toward the street.

Debra nodded. “Yeah.”

“Right now?” Corky asked, glancing at her watch. It was nearly ten.

“Why not?” Debra asked.

“Well …” Corky hesitated. That nice hot bath Kimmy had talked about sounded pretty good to her too.

“Come on. We’ll take my car,” Debra urged, pulling Corky by the arm. “It’ll only take a few minutes to drive to Jon Daly’s house.”

“Yeah, but what do we say when we get there?” Corky asked. “We can’t just barge in and say, ‘Jon, what were you and Sarah Beth Plummer doing in the cemetery the other night?’”

“Why not?” Debra said. She pulled open the back door to her car and dumped the candles and book on the seat. “That’s exactly what we’ll ask.” She tossed back her hood and brushed her sleek short hair with one hand. “Come on, Corky. Get in.”

Corky hesitated for a long moment, then pulled open the passenger door and climbed in. Debra slid into the driver’s seat and rested her hands on top of the steering wheel.

The glow of the streetlight fell over Debra’s pale, slender hand.

And Corky thought of Chip.

Of Chip’s hand. Lying forlornly beside the power saw.

She saw the hand, severed neatly at the wrist. And then the puddles of dark blood.

And then Chip lying facedown in his own blood.

“Corky, what’s the matter?” Debra cried, seeing Corky’s horror-filled expression.

Corky shut her eyes tight, erasing the picture. “Let’s go see Jon Daly,” Corky said, her voice a dry whisper.

The Dalys lived in the wealthy section of Shadyside known as North Hills, a few blocks from the high school. Debra pulled up the driveway to the house, a sprawling redwood ranch-style house behind a neatly trimmed front lawn.

At the end of the drive, the garage door was open. A Volvo station wagon was parked inside. Two bikes hung on the wall. Corky wondered if one of them had belonged to Jennifer.

So much death, she thought, climbing out of the car. The evil has claimed so many victims.

She and Debra walked side by side up the flagstone walk to the front door. Debra raised her finger to the doorbell, then hesitated.

“Go ahead,” Corky urged. “We’re here. We might as well talk to Jon.”

Debra rang. They heard voices inside the house, then approaching footsteps.

The porch light went on. The front door was pulled open. Mrs. Daly’s head appeared in a rectangle of yellow light, her expression quickly turning to surprise. “Why, hello, girls.”

Her faded blond hair was wrapped in a red bandanna. Her features seemed to melt together in the harsh light.

“Hi, Mrs. Daly,” Corky said, clearing her throat. “Remember me? I’m Bobbi’s sister?”

“Of course,” Mrs. Daly replied, eyeing Debra.

“We came to see Jon,” Corky said.

Mrs. Daly’s mouth dropped open.

“Who is it?” Mr. Daly’s voice floated out from the living room.

“Do you have news about Jon?” Mrs. Daly asked Corky, ignoring her husband’s question.

“Huh?” Corky couldn’t hide her confusion. “News?”

“Who is it?” Mr. Daly said again as he appeared behind his wife. He was tall and balding. He had on a Chicago Cubs T-shirt and straight-leg corduroys. His forehead was furrowed.

The house smelled of stale cigarette smoke.

“They have news about Jon,” Mrs. Daly told her husband. She gripped his hand.

“No,” Corky corrected. “We came to see Jon.”

“We need to talk to him,” Debra added, self-consciously adjusting her cape.

“Oh.” Mrs. Daly’s face fell. The light faded from her eyes.

“Jon isn’t here,” Mr. Daly said sternly.

“We’re worried sick about him,” Mrs. Daly added, gripping her husband’s hand. “It’s been two days. Two days. We called the police.”

“Huh? The police?” Corky glanced at Debra, who looked as startled as she did.

Mr. Daly nodded sadly. “Yes. Jon disappeared two days ago. We don’t know what happened to him.”

Дата добавления: 2015-07-20