by R. L. Stine
“What do I want?” Daniel bared his teeth in a cold smile. “I want to kill you!”
Chapter 11
“HELP ME—PLEASE!”
Reva’s mouth went dry.
Daniel’s cold smile faded. His eyes narrowed and his fists clenched tightly at his sides.
He does look like he wants to kill me! Reva thought.
But why?
“Daniel, I don’t understand!” she cried innocently. “What did I ever do to you?”
“Don’t tell me you forgot already.” Daniel took a step toward her. “The other night at your house? The security guard? Is it coming back to you now?”
“Oh, that!” Reva sighed. “But that was just a little joke!”
“Guess what? I’m not laughing!” Daniel snarled. “You got me into real trouble, in case you’re interested. The police treated me like some kind of criminal. They actually thought I was a burglar or something. If my friend hadn’t come down to the station to explain who I was, I’d probably be in jail right now!”
Too bad you’re not, Reva thought. But she quickly put on an ashamed expression. “Daniel, I’m really sorry,” she told him. “It was a joke. I never, ever meant for something like that to happen to you. It must have been horrible!”
“It wasn’t exactly a picnic,” he agreed angrily.
Reva shook her head sympathetically. “I’m so sorry,” she repeated. What else did he want her to do—cry and beg forgiveness?
Daniel ran a hand through his sandy hair. “Yeah, well, I’m sorry I got so angry just now,” he mumbled. “I didn’t mean to threaten you. I guess I kind of lost it.”
No kidding. Reva smiled and put her hand on his arm. “I don’t blame you a bit,” she murmured. “Maybe we can forget the whole thing, okay?”
“Good idea.” He smiled back. “Especially since we’ll probably be seeing each other a lot.”
“Oh?” Reva couldn’t imagine what he was talking about. She definitely didn’t plan on seeing him again.
“Yeah. I told you I’m staying in Shadyside for the whole vacation,” he reminded her. “And guess what?”
Reva took her hand off his arm. “I hate guessing games. Why don’t you just tell me?”
“My friend got me a temporary job, right here in Dalby’s,” he announced. “In the stockroom.”
“Oh.” Does he expect me to do cartwheels? Reva wondered. “That’s nice. Listen, I have to. . .”
“So why don’t we put the other night behind us and celebrate?” he interrupted. “If you’re free tonight, we could have dinner. Or catch a movie. Or both.”
“I don’t think so,” Reva replied coldly. “I’m not allowed to go out with someone who’s been arrested!”
Laughing at her own cruel joke, Reva hurried away, leaving Daniel alone in the hallway.
What a nerd!
Reva shook her head. College must have done some weird things to my brain. I actually used to think Daniel was interesting!
As Reva passed the ladies room, the door swung open and Grace stepped out. “Oh, hi, Reva. I’m glad I found you.”
“Why? Was I lost?”
“Huh?”
Reva rolled her eyes. “A joke, Grace. It was a joke.”
“Oh. Well, anyway, I wanted to ask you something.”
“Ask me fast,” Reva ordered. “I absolutely have to get to the model audition.”
“That’s sort of what I wanted to talk to you about,” Grace told her. “I . . . um, well. . .”
“This isn’t asking me fast, Grace,” Reva snapped.
“Okay. Right.” Grace took a deep breath. “See, I’ve always dreamed of being a model. And I was thinking you could use me in the scarf show. It would be so great!”
Great for you, maybe, Reva thought. But not for the show. She shook her head. “Listen, you’re thin, but that’s about all you have going for you. As a model, I mean. You’re too short, for one thing.”
“But. . .”
“And,” Reva interrupted, “you don’t carry yourself very well. You sort of hunch around like you’re scared of your own shadow. No offense, Grace, but you just don’t have the training to be a model.”
Grace’s face turned bright red.
“I know you wouldn’t want me to lie to you,” Reva told her, forcing a sympathetic smile. “It’s better not to hang on to a dream that will never come true, right? I’ll tell you what, though—you can be my assistant.”
“Sure. I can do that,” Grace murmured.
Good! Her feelings are hurt, Reva thought. Maybe she’ll go home. I wish I’d never invited her. She’s no fun at all. “I’ll meet with you after the audition and give you something to do, okay?”
Grace bit her lip and nodded. “If there’s nothing for me to do now, I think I’ll take a walk.”
“Whatever. Catch you later.”
Grace turned and shuffled away, her shoulders slumped.
Reva clicked her tongue in annoyance. There goes another loser. I’m surrounded by them!
But not for long, she thought as she hurried toward the room where the models waited. Once the Reva Wear scarves hit the market, I’ll be a winner.
And I can leave all the losers behind!
• • •
Half an hour later, Reva dismissed nine of the eleven models who had come to audition. She waited as they filed out of the room, then turned back to the two she had chosen.
Yes. She picked the right ones. Liza Grogan. Straight, shiny dark hair, big brown eyes, and incredibly long legs.
Ellie Stern had short, curly red hair, bright blue eyes, and a really sophisticated look. She reminded Reva of herself.
“I’m definitely giving one of these to my mom for Christmas!” Ellie exclaimed, wrapping a red and gold scarf around her neck. “They’re awesome!”
“Which design school did you go to, Reva?” Liza asked.
“None, actually.”
“You’re kidding!” Ellie stared at Reva in surprise. “I’ve seen stuff coming out of design schools that isn’t half as good as this. I mean, really, these scarves are fabulous!”
“Thanks.” Reva smiled modestly and checked her watch. “As soon as Traci gets here, we’ll start rehearsing.”
Liza frowned. “You aren’t talking about Traci Meecham, are you?”
“That’s right,” Reva told her. “She’s the third model. She’s under contract to Dalby’s, so . . .”
“So Reva’s stuck with me,” Traci finished, breezing into the room. She paused and stared at Liza, her eyes narrowing. “And I guess I’m stuck with you, Liza.”
Liza gazed back for a moment, then tossed her head and smiled. “I guess so, Traci. Try not to let it ruin your day.”
Liza and Traci obviously aren’t best friends, Reva thought. But who cares? The only thing that matters is the show.
Traci glanced at Ellie, then back at Reva. “Well, I can see why you hired her, Reva. She looks exactly like you. I just hope she doesn’t act like you.”
Ellie looked confused.
“Reva’s not the easiest person to get along with,” Traci told her in a loud whisper.
Reva frowned. “What happened to staying out of each other’s way, Traci? Wasn’t that your idea?”
Traci shrugged. “I guess I forgot.”
“Well, I hope you haven’t forgotten how to model,” Reva shot back. “If you mess up my show, you’re out of it.”
“What will you do—run and complain to Daddy?” Traci asked with a sneer. “I’m under contract, remember?”
“Hey, come on, you two,” Ellie pleaded. “We all have to work together.”
“Unfortunately,” Liza muttered under her breath, glaring at Traci.
Reva took a deep breath. Keep cool, she told herself. Don’t let Traci ruin things for you. The show is too important. “Ellie is right,” she declared. “We all have to work together. So let’s get started.”
Reva pushed open a door at the back of the room and led the models into the sh
owroom. “The dress rehearsal is tomorrow,” she told them. “Right now, we’ll just walk through the routine.”
Workmen had set up a revolving glass door on the stage at the front of the room. It opened onto a fake sidewalk that would be lined with mannequins dressed as shoppers. “You girls come through the door and walk down the sidewalk in front of the audience,” Reva explained. “Be sure to swing the scarf over your shoulder so people get a good look at it. Then go back through the revolving door.”
“You want us to walk through together?” Traci asked.
Reva gritted her teeth and counted to ten. She hated dealing with stupid people.
“One at a time,” she said slowly. “You first, Traci. Then Liza. Then Ellie.”
Reva stepped back and watched as the three models began to walk through the routine. There would be music during the show, of course. And the words Reva Wear At Dalby’s in flowing gold script above the glass door. The models would wear black, she decided, so the colorful scarves would stand out.
It was going to be perfect.
“Excuse me,” a voice whispered from behind her.
Reva turned, frowning in annoyance. But her frown disappeared quickly as she gazed at the guy standing near her.
Curly dark hair, a strong jaw, golden-brown eyes, broad shoulders. A total babe.
“Hi,” she murmured in a throaty voice. “Can I help you?”
“I hope so.” The guy smiled at her. “Is Liza Grogan here? I’m supposed to pick her up.”
“And you are . . . ?”
“Oh. Her boyfriend. Grant Nichols.” He grinned. “What about you?”
“I’m Reva Dalby,” Reva told him.
“Dalby?” Grant looked impressed. “Like in the store?”
“Exactly.” I’d like to get to know this guy, Reva decided. She glanced toward the revolving door. Ellie was just pushing through it. Liza couldn’t be seen. Good.
“Listen, Grant,” Reva murmured. “Liza is working right now.”
“Oh. She got the job?”
“You sound disappointed,” Reva remarked.
“Well. . .” Grant hesitated. “No, I’m glad for her, I guess. She’s really serious about modeling, but when she gets work, I hardly ever see her. She actually goes to bed at nine, can you believe it?”
Even better, Reva thought. “Models need a lot of sleep so they look fresh,” she told him. “I couldn’t stand it myself. I’m such a night owl.”
“Me, too,” Grant replied. He grinned again, as if they shared some kind of secret.
Perfect, Reva thought. He’s actually coming on to me now. She flicked another glance toward the set. Liza was still out of sight. Now was the time to set something up with Grant.
Reva smiled and took a step toward him.
The showroom door slammed against the wall. Reva spun around to see the door slam shut again.
Grace burst into the room.
Reva frowned.
“Reva?” Grace called hoarsely. She took a step closer. “Help me!”
Reva gasped.
Grace’s left eye was swollen shut, and blood poured from a wide slash in her bottom lip.
Grace took another wobbly step. “Help me—please!”
Then her eyes rolled back in her head and her knees buckled.
Reva screamed in horror as Grace collapsed in a heap on the floor.
Chapter 12
A BROKEN MANNEQUIN
Reva rushed across the room and dropped to her knees beside Grace.
Behind her, she heard loud gasps from the models. “Grant, what happened?” Liza cried.
“I don’t know,” Grant replied. “She just walked in and—whomp! She’s on the floor.”
Grace moaned. Her eyelids fluttered. “Rory,” she muttered hoarsely to Reva. “It was Rory!”
Reva’s mind spun. Rory? Here at Dalby’s?
Loud footsteps pounded across the stage. The three models and Grant surrounded Reva and Grace.
“Shouldn’t somebody call an ambulance?” Ellie asked anxiously. “I mean, look at her face!”
Grace shook her head and grasped Reva’s wrist with cold fingers. “No ambulance!” she pleaded. “Please! Just let me rest a second.”
Reva glanced up at the others. “You might as well go,” she told them. “I’ll take care of her. See you tomorrow morning at rehearsal. Nine sharp.”
As they left, Reva shot Grant a private smile. Then she turned back to Grace. Carefully, she helped her roommate to her feet and guided her down the hall to the ladies room.
Grace sat down shakily on a padded bench while Reva dampened some paper towels at one of the sinks. “What happened?” Reva asked, wringing out the towels.
“I took a walk down Division Street. He must have followed me,” Grace replied. “But I never saw him. Anyway, I was almost back when he dragged me into one of the loading bays behind the store and—he hit me.” She broke off, shuddering.
Reva handed her the towels. “We have to tell the police.”
“No.” Grace winced as she dabbed at her lip.
“But look what he did to you!” Reva argued. “You can’t let him get away with it!”
Grace shook her head. “I don’t think he’ll bother me again.”
“You call a split lip and a black eye bothering you?” Reva cried. “Don’t be a wimp about this, Grace! You have to put that psycho away!”
“You don’t understand,” Grace told her. “I know Rory. He wanted revenge and he got it. He’ll go away now.”
Reva rolled her eyes. If that’s what Grace thinks, fine. It is her problem—she can handle it herself. “Listen,” Reva said, “I still have tons of stuff to do for my Reva Wear show.”
“Yes. I know how important it is to you.” Grace smiled with one side of her mouth. “Go do what you have to do. Don’t worry about me.”
Okay, Reva thought. She glanced in a mirror and began fluffing her hair. As she did, the bathroom door opened and Willow stepped inside.
Her eyes met Reva’s in the mirror. Willow’s expression was cold and unblinking.
If looks could kill, I’d be dead, Reva thought in amusement.
• • •
Grant Nichols took a long, shaky breath as Reva wrapped her arms around his neck. “I don’t believe I’m doing this,” he told her.
“Believe it.” Reva ran her fingers through his curly black hair and kissed his lips. “See?” she murmured. “It’s really happening.”
Grant kissed her back, then pulled away and glanced around Pete’s Pizza. “I know it’s real,” he said. “That’s the problem. If Liza ever found out. . .”
“Hey.” Reva put her fingers against his mouth. “Who’s Liza?”
She kissed him again, then leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled to herself. Grant had called her late that afternoon, asking if she wanted to go out. No big surprise. She knew he was interested. She’d felt that spark the minute he set eyes on her.
She agreed to go out, of course. She was attracted to Grant. And she didn’t mind taking something away from Liza. That made it all the more interesting. Now the two of them sat in a back booth, waiting for their pizza to arrive.
Grant rubbed his chin against the top of Reva’s head. “How’s your friend?” he asked. “The one with the black eye?”
“She’s okay.” Reva snuggled against him. Grace was a pain, actually. “Let’s not talk about that. It was so unpleasant.”
“Talk about unpleasant—I couldn’t believe it when I saw Liza and Traci in the same room together,” Grant said. “I’m surprised they weren’t tearing each other apart. They hate each other, you know.”
“No, I didn’t.” Reva rolled her eyes. Who cared about Traci and Liza?
“Yeah, it’s really bad news,” Grant continued. “Traci accused Liza of stealing two modeling jobs from her. Plus, I used to go out with Traci. So she thinks Liza stole me away, too.”
So what? Reva thought. It didn’t have anything to do with her. “Why a
re you telling me this?” she asked.
Grant tightened his arm around her shoulders. “I think you should be careful, that’s all. When I said they hate each other, I wasn’t kidding. Liza is not happy about working with Traci in your show. And I’m sure Traci is not exactly thrilled, either. There could be fireworks. So watch out.”
“Hey.” Turning in the booth, Reva put her arms around Grant’s neck again. “Enough talk about Liza and Traci,” she murmured softly, moving her lips to his. “It’s not my problem—is it?”
• • •
At a quarter to nine the next morning, Reva strode down the hall to the showroom humming to herself.
She felt great. She had a fashion show to put on and a handsome guy to play with. What more could anybody ask for?
The scarves would be a major hit. She could feel it.
And last night had been fun. Grant worried too much about Liza. But Reva knew she could make him forget. He’s definitely cute, she thought. Maybe I’ll keep him around for a while.
Still humming, Reva pushed open the door and flipped on the light.
Good. The workmen had set up the mannequins along the fake sidewalk.
Reva tossed her blue down jacket onto a chair and put her hands on her hips, studying the mannequins.
Right now, they wore a mixture of clothes—coats, nightgowns, ski outfits. Reva frowned, thinking. She wanted them to look like shoppers, hurrying into Dalby’s. But she didn’t want them to be dressed too colorfully. The audience should pay attention to the scarves and nothing else.
Dark clothes, she decided. Blue. Black. Dark green. Maybe at the end of the show, each of the live models could drape a scarf around one of the mannequins.
Reva smiled. She definitely had a talent for this kind of thing.
As she walked down the aisle toward the mannequins, Reva noticed that one of them looked out of place. It stood in a weird position—tilted on its support pole with its knees bent.
If it’s damaged, she thought, heads will roll. Daddy pays these workmen good money. They should be able to handle a mannequin without breaking it!
Annoyed, she strode to the mannequin to see what was wrong. She grabbed hold of the silvery-gray jacket and spun it toward her.
