Silent Night 3

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Silent Night 3 Page 11

by R. L. Stine

“No kidding?” Michael’s eyes lit up. He whipped out the fake knife. “The Evil Avenger to the rescue!” he shouted, and raced down the hallway.

  Reva smiled. The horror is finally over. I’m not in danger anymore. Grace will be taken care of.

  Slowly, she slumped to the bed, looked up Grace’s number again in the student directory, and called her mother. She explained what had happened to a horrified Mrs. Morton.

  “Those poor girls,” Mrs. Morton sobbed. “I’m so glad you’re all right, Reva. I’m leaving for Shadyside right now—Grace’s doctor is coming tomorrow. Maybe my poor Grace will really be cured one day.”

  Maybe, Reva thought. But I wouldn’t count on it.

  Reva said good-bye and hung up. Feeling exhausted, she started to lie back on the bed. Then she remembered her father. She had to tell him. Quickly, she punched in his office number at Dalby’s.

  He answered on the first ring.

  “Daddy? I—I have to tell you what happened,” Reva announced. Then she blurted out the whole horrible story about Grace.

  “And you’re sure you’re all right?” Mr. Dalby asked anxiously when she finished.

  “I’m fine,” she assured him. “My throat’s a little sore and I’m tired. But I’m really okay, Daddy. I feel so bad about Traci and Liza, of course. And Grace, too. I mean, she’s sick. But it’s all over, Daddy, isn’t that great?”

  “It’s wonderful,” he agreed.

  “And now I can go ahead with the fashion show,” Reva told him.

  “Huh?” Mr. Dalby cried. “After all that’s happened, isn’t that the last thing you want to do?”

  “Definitely not,” Reva replied. “Grace was right about one thing. The show was really important to me. And it’s even more important now.”

  “But—”

  “Please, Daddy, let me go ahead with it!” Reva begged. “I need something to help me forget all the horrible things that have happened. And everything is ready—the scarves and the set and the music. We could have a show tonight!”

  “Tonight? What about the models?” her father asked. “Didn’t you plan on having three of them?”

  Reva thought fast. “Yes. But couldn’t you get two of the store models to replace Traci and Liza?” Forget what color hair they have, she thought. Just as long as they don’t trip over their own feet, I’ll take them. “Daddy?”

  “Well. . .” Mr. Dalby hesitated, but only for a few seconds. “I suppose you’re right, honey. Doing the show will take your mind off things.”

  “And it will be good for business, too,” Reva reminded him.

  Mr. Dalby grunted. “All right. I’ll line up a model for you. There’s not enough notice to do it tonight. The store is open until ten tomorrow. So how about tomorrow at seven for the show?”

  “Perfect! Thank you, Daddy!” Reva cried. “I’ll see you later!”

  Reva said good-bye, then quickly got Ellie’s phone number from Information and punched it in. When Ellie picked up, Reva quickly explained the situation. “The show is at seven tomorrow night. I’ll be there at six. But could you go a little earlier and make sure everything’s ready?”

  “Sure,” Ellie replied. “No problem. I’ll let Maria know, too.”

  “Great. I’ll meet you in the showroom at seven.” Reva hung up and clicked her nails on the bedside table. What next?

  Pam, she thought, and snatched up the phone. “Pam!” she cried, when her cousin answered. “You are not going to believe what happened!” Once again, she explained about Grace and the murders.

  “That’s awful!” Pam exclaimed. “I feel so terrible about Liza and Traci. But somehow, I can’t help feeling bad for Grace, too. That poor girl.”

  “Hey, what about me?” Reva asked. “I almost got strangled, remember? Anyway, forget all that. I have some fantastic news—Daddy’s letting me go ahead with the fashion show.”

  “Really?” Pam cried. “After all the horrible stuff that happened?”

  “It’s good business.” Reva rolled her eyes. Of course, Pam didn’t have a clue about business. She should be grateful Reva had taken over the scarf show. “People are still going to shop, you know. Especially at Christmas.”

  “Oh. I guess you’re right.”

  “Of course I am,” Reva agreed. “The show’s tomorrow night, at seven. You and Willow should get down to the store right away and get to work. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  Hanging up, Reva hurried into her private bathroom to take a long, soothing bath.

  The horror is all over, she thought, smiling to herself.

  And I’m right back where I belong.

  On top.

  • • •

  Pam glanced at her watch. Six o’clock. She sighed and bent over the long green scarf she was working on.

  She and Willow had been at Dalby’s all day, making more scarves. Usually Pam enjoyed it, even in the small, airless room Reva gave them. She loved working with the material, seeing her very own designs come alive.

  Why wasn’t she enjoying it now?

  On the other side of the table, Willow tossed down a cherry-red scarf and clicked her tongue in disgust. “That’s the third time I messed up the stitching! I’m a total klutz today. I don’t feel like working at all.”

  “Me, either,” Pam told her. “I keep thinking about Traci and Liza. I mean, Grace strangled them with our scarves. I know it’s not our fault. But it’s all so sick. I just can’t seem to get excited about the show.”

  “Yeah,” Willow agreed, fingering her gold nose hoop. “Two people are dead. It’s just so awful.”

  Pam nodded. “I should be glad about the show, I suppose. Reva says it’s good business.”

  “Reva would,” Willow declared with a snort. Then she shrugged. “I guess I shouldn’t complain. Somebody has to think about business. And maybe we’ll make some money, at least.”

  “Right.” Pam inspected the green scarf. “Speaking of Reva, I’m going to check with her and see if she wants to use this scarf tonight or save it for the next show. She should be here by now.”

  Picking up the scarf, Pam left Willow and went down the hall to the showroom.

  The big room was dim and shadowy. The only light came from a weak bulb somewhere behind the revolving doors.

  Pam stepped in and waited for her eyes to adjust.

  What was that noise?

  It sounded like breathing. But not normal breathing. Gasping, almost.

  Was someone there?

  Pam moved cautiously down the center aisle, peering through the darkness.

  The raspy breathing continued.

  Pam took a few more steps. Then she stopped suddenly.

  Reva!

  Pam’s cousin lay in front of the revolving doors, sprawled on her stomach, her red hair shining in the weak light.

  Someone knelt next to her, bending over her. A guy, Pam saw. She heard Reva gasp again, a choking, guttural sound that sent a chill down Pam’s spine.

  The guy stayed on his knees, bending over Reva.

  Pulling at something.

  At what?

  Hurrying forward, Pam saw a flash of red around Reva’s neck.

  And more red in the guy’s hands.

  A scarf!

  A red scarf!

  He’s killing her! Pulling the scarf tighter and tighter!

  Strangling her!

  With a shriek, Pam flew onto the stage. She threw herself at the guy, knocking him off-balance. He fell with a thud. But Pam barely glanced at him. Terrified, she bent over her cousin.

  Reva lay still.

  The horrible choking sounds had stopped completely.

  “She’s dead! You murdered her!” Pam cried, dropping to her knees beside Reva’s still body. “You murdered Reva!”

  Chapter 26

  A BAD MISTAKE

  “She’s dead, she’s dead!” Pam shrieked. “You killed her! You killed Reva!”

  Tears blurred her eyes. Sobbing, she reached out to touch Reva’s shoulder.

>   With a wild cry, the guy knocked Pam’s hand away. Then he grabbed her shoulders and hauled her roughly to her feet, shoving her away from her cousin’s body.

  “Why?” Pam cried, staggering backward. “Why?”

  “You shouldn’t have come in here!” he shouted. “You shouldn’t have seen!” His eyes burned with fury. “Now I have to kill you, too!”

  Pam backed away, her heart pounding. Terrified, she twisted her green scarf around her sweaty hands. “Why did you kill Reva?” she repeated in a shaky whisper.

  “Because . . .” The guy clenched his fists and glared down at the still figure on the stage floor. “Because she . . .”

  Pam’s eyes darted around the dimly lit showroom. She had to get out of here and get help. “Because she what?” she asked, taking another step backward.

  The guy stared at her.

  Pam froze.

  He turned back to Reva. “Because . . .” He stopped again.

  Pam saw his expression change. The anger faded, and a look of total horror swept over his face.

  What’s going on? she wondered.

  “Oh, nooo!” Uttering a long wail, the guy sank to his knees beside Reva’s body. He took hold of her shoulder and turned her onto her back.

  As Reva’s red hair fell away from her face, Pam gasped in shock.

  It’s not Reva! she realized.

  It’s Ellie!

  As Pam stared down at the lifeless form of Reva’s look-alike model, the guy uttered another horrified wail.

  “Nooo! What have I done? What have I done?” he cried. “I killed the wrong one!”

  • • •

  Running a little late, Reva hurried down the hall toward the side door of the showroom. She was eager to check the place out and make sure Ellie had everything ready.

  As she entered the door, she stopped, surprised and annoyed.

  Why was the room so dark? Did Ellie forget to come early and get everything set up?

  With a scowl, Reva edged along the wall, searching for the big switch that turned on the stage lights. As her fingers touched it, she heard a sound from the stage.

  A horrible moaning sound.

  Reva froze.

  The sound came again, full of anger and panic. “The wrong one!” a voice choked out. “The wrong one!”

  Slowly, Reva dropped her hand. Moving quietly, she edged her way farther along the wall.

  When she was able to see onto the stage, Reva stopped again, horrified.

  Ellie lay sprawled on her back near the revolving doors, a long, cherry-red scarf wrapped tightly around her neck.

  Pam stood nearby. Nervously twisting a green scarf around her hands as if it were a dish towel, Pam stared at the guy kneeling next to Ellie.

  Grant Nichols.

  As Reva watched, Grant ran a hand through his curly hair. “It shouldn’t be her!” he muttered. “It shouldn’t be!”

  “What are you talking about?” Pam whispered. “You killed Ellie, but you meant to kill Reva?”

  A chill ran up Reva’s spine. That could be me! she thought, staring at Ellie. But why?

  Why would Grant want to kill me?

  “Why?” Pam asked, echoing Reva’s thought.

  Grant shuddered and sighed. “I—I felt so guilty . . . about Liza.”

  “What do you mean?” Pam cried. “You mean you killed Liza? But. . .”

  “No, I didn’t kill her. Reva did!” Grant snapped.

  Huh? Reva couldn’t believe this.

  “Reva did,” Grant repeated. “Oh, I know she didn’t actually strangle her. But she might as well have! It was Reva’s fault that Liza died. All Reva’s fault!”

  No! Reva thought. He’s wrong! He’s crazy!

  “I knew it was Reva’s fault,” Grant continued, sounding hopeless. “And where was I? I couldn’t help Liza—because I was out with Reva. Sneaking out with Reva, behind Liza’s back!”

  “But that doesn’t make it Reva’s fault,” Pam protested.

  “It does,” Grant cried furiously. “I really cared about Liza—and Reva knew it. I told Reva. But Reva made me think she cared about me! That she needed me.”

  Grant shook his head, raking his fingers through his hair again.

  “But it was a trick,” he groaned. “Reva didn’t care. She didn’t need me. Liza did, and I wasn’t there!”

  Reva closed her eyes for a second, thinking about Grant’s words.

  Were they true?

  Grace had accused her of using people, especially the guys. Using them and then throwing them away when she didn’t need them anymore.

  Now Grant was saying practically the same thing. Saying she tricked him into sneaking out on Liza by pretending to need him.

  But I didn’t force him to sneak around with me! Reva thought. And I did need him, didn’t I?

  Not really, Reva had to admit to herself. I just wanted somebody around during the holidays. I didn’t care about him the way he cared about Liza.

  “After Liza died, I—I just snapped, I guess.” Grant’s voice from the stage broke into Reva’s thoughts. “I had to pay Reva back. That’s all I could think about—paying Reva back. And I decided that she had to die.”

  With a shudder, Reva glanced down at Ellie.

  “I knew exactly how to do it, too,” Grant went on. “Strangle Reva just the way Liza and Traci were strangled. Then whoever killed them would be blamed for Reva’s murder, too. And I’d get away with it.”

  Pam shook her head silently, a look of horror in her eyes.

  Grant gazed up at her. “But then you came in and . . .” He turned his head and stared at Ellie again. “It isn’t Reva. I killed the wrong one. It isn’t Reva.”

  No kidding, Reva thought. She forgot about feeling guilty and started feeling angry. Maybe Grant had snapped. But no way would he get away with murder!

  Furious, Reva strode toward the revolving doors, her shoes clicking loudly on the stage floor.

  Pam gasped.

  Grant raised his head. When he saw Reva, his eyes narrowed. “You!” he muttered.

  “Yes, it’s me. And I heard everything, Grant,” Reva told him icily. “But guess what? Your plan was no good from the start. The police already have Traci’s and Liza’s murderer.”

  “No!” Grant shook his head. “You’re wrong, Reva. They don’t have Liza’s killer. Or Traci’s either.”

  “Sorry, but they do,” Reva declared. “She’s at the police station, right now. And you’ll be joining her, Grant. You’ll be arrested for Ellie’s murder.”

  “No! You’re the real killer, Reva!”

  Reva shook her head. “Come on, Pam. Let’s get out of here and call the police.”

  “No!” Grant shrieked again, his face turning dark red with fury. “You’re the killer, Reva! It’s all your fault those girls are dead! All your fault!”

  “Stop it!” Pam cried, nervously twisting the scarf around and around. “Stop saying that!”

  Grant ignored her. He stared at Reva, his eyes flaming with hatred.

  Reva froze for a second.

  “Your fault,” Grant repeated. “And now—you have to die, too!”

  Pam screamed.

  Before Reva could react, Grant leaped to his feet. “You have to die!” he bellowed furiously as he dove across the stage. “You have to die, Reva!”

  Chapter 27

  A CHRISTMAS PRESENT

  Pam screamed again.

  Reva whirled around to run.

  Her foot twisted, and she lurched sideways.

  “You have to die!” Grant shouted.

  She heard his hoarse breathing.

  Then she felt his breath on her neck.

  Felt his fingers brush her back.

  He’ll get me! her mind shrieked as she tried to gain her balance. He’ll kill me!

  As Grant’s hand grabbed her shoulder, Reva screamed.

  And then Grant seemed to stumble. His hand slid away, and Reva heard a loud thump.

  “Reva!” Pam shouted.
“Help me—quick!”

  Her heart racing, Reva spun back around.

  Grant lay facedown on the stage floor. Caught under his legs was a long green scarf. Pam had wrapped it around his ankles and tripped him.

  Gasping in fear, Pam grabbed the ends of the scarf and hurried to tighten them around his ankles.

  Grant lifted his head from the floor and shook it. He seemed slightly dazed from the fall. But then he got his arms underneath him and started to heave himself up.

  With a scream, Pam shoved him down. “Help me, Reva!” she shouted again, struggling to wrap the scarf tighter as Grant kicked and struggled. “I need to tie his ankles! Help me or he’ll get away!”

  Grant raised himself on one arm and swung back viciously with the other. His fist almost collided with Pam’s jaw.

  Reva stepped over to him and kicked Grant’s arm out from under him. He hit the floor hard. Before he could move again, Reva planted her foot on the back of his neck and pushed down.

  “I wouldn’t try to get up, Grant,” she told him. She pressed down harder with her black platform shoe. “If you do, I’ll put all my weight on your neck. That’s a promise.”

  Reva pushed again, harder.

  Grant stayed down, breathing hard.

  Pam quickly finished wrapping the scarf and tying it into a tight knot. Then she raced to the side door and shouted for the store guards.

  As she hurried back to Reva, she suddenly stopped. “Reva, look! Ellie is moving!”

  Reva’s gaze snapped to Ellie. The red-haired model’s head turned slowly back and forth, and she let out a soft groan.

  Pam dropped down next to her. “I can’t believe it!” she exclaimed, gently unwrapping the red scarf from Ellie’s neck. “I thought for sure she was dead!”

  “She probably would be if you hadn’t come in here,” Reva told her. “You saved her life.” She paused. “Mine, too. Thanks, Pam.”

  Before Pam could respond, two uniformed store guards rushed in. Reva took her foot off Grant’s neck and breathed a sigh of relief.

  The horror was finally over.

  • • •

  “Haiee-yahh!”

  Michael chopped the air with his hands. He spun around and planted a kick on the back of the living room couch.

  The couch shuddered and slid forward about an inch. With another cry, Michael did his ninja routine again, then ran over to the Christmas tree and began to check out all the packages underneath it.

 

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