“And one push from you.” Joss gave a faint smile. “One problem solved.” His eyes flicked briefly to Andy. “Or did you do the honors?”
“I didn’t kill anybody!” Andy protested. “Nora—”
“And Mrs. Baxter was easy, too, wasn’t she?” Joss went on. “You knew she was planning to go through those closets that day, didn’t you, Nora? So you had that broken ladder all ready for her to use.”
“I could have killed her,” Nora said smugly. “But I didn’t.”
Carolyn squirmed desperately, trying to shout through her gag. She pushed herself away from the wall and lay there on her stomach, but all attention was on Joss.
“And then there was the widow’s walk,” he murmured.
He’d stopped pacing. Now he turned slowly and stared into Nora’s face.
“We all agreed there’d be no real danger, didn’t we?” he went on softly. “Another ghost, maybe … but nothing fatal.”
Nora stared back at him. Her face looked hideous in the flickering light of the lantern.
“Carolyn almost died,” Joss said flatly.
“But thanks to you, of course she didn’t.” A smile tightened Nora’s lips, and she glanced at Andy. “We’re both so proud of you, Joss. Your job was to work inside the house … become a trusted part of the family … scare them into leaving. To follow orders, no questions asked. And you’ve done your job so well. But now … you understand … all jobs have to end sometime.”
Andy straightened in slow motion, but Carolyn caught the quick look of panic on his face. As Nora raised her gun, a shaft of lightning exploded outside the window, bathing everything in a silvery glow. Nora turned the gun on Carolyn.
“I’m an excellent shot,” Nora said. “So give me the hook, Joss.”
Joss didn’t take his eyes from her. As he started forward, Nora seemed to change her mind.
“No. Put it there on the floor. Andy … tie his hands.”
Joss leaned over with exaggerated slowness and put the hook down. Without a word, Andy pulled Joss’s arms behind his back, securing them with a length of rope.
“Now …” Nora said, pleased. “Tie our friends together.” At Andy’s look of surprise, she added, “I think a touch of romance is in order … in keeping with the legend, you understand.”
This time Andy hesitated. His glance shot from Joss to Carolyn and back again.
“Do it,” Nora hissed.
“I’m not going to kill them,” Andy said flatly. “I mean it, Nora—I won’t—”
“Of course not. We’ll let the house do it.”
Keeping the gun aimed at Carolyn, Nora reached down for the lantern on the floor beside her.
“A fire, I think,” she murmured. “With the money from this treasure, we won’t be needing this place anymore … or the business.”
She lifted the lantern with her free hand. Her eyes glittered wickedly in the gloom.
Andy motioned to Joss. At first Joss didn’t move, but as Nora clicked back the hammer of her gun, he finally crossed the room. Andy stepped over Carolyn and shoved Joss roughly against the wall behind her.
“Lie down,” Nora ordered.
Slowly Joss did so, putting his back to Carolyn.
“No,” Nora said. “Face to face, so you can’t untie each other. Besides … I want you to see each other at the end.”
Carolyn’s heart raced out of control. As Andy forced her onto her side, she tried to kick him, but he sidestepped easily. Joss stretched out next to her with his back to the wall, and Andy pushed the two of them against each other.
“What are you doing?” Nora demanded, and Andy’s reply was just as terse.
“Tying their knees together. There’s no way they can reach the rope down there.”
Nora seemed satisfied. As Carolyn watched in growing terror, Andy worked the rope around their legs, and yet strangely enough, it didn’t feel tight. She saw Joss glance up at him … caught the quick, almost indifferent glance Andy threw back. Then Andy straightened and moved away.
Carolyn was almost afraid to breathe. Pressed lengthwise against Joss, she was helplessly aware of their bodies molded together, the warm strength of him through their wet, clinging clothes. Her head rested just beneath his chin. She felt his lips move gently against her hair. Tilting her face, she saw him looking down at her, his eyes deep and black and calm. She felt herself flush and lowered her head.
“It’ll be quick,” Nora promised with a laugh. “This attic is like a tinderbox. It’ll be over before you know it.”
“And you really think you’ll get away with it,” Joss spoke up, his tone strangely amused. His deep voice sent vibrations through his chest, beneath Carolyn’s cheek. “You really think no one will ever suspect.”
“Why should they? When I left here this evening, everything was fine. Accidents do happen.”
“But two employers, Nora? Two accidents?”
“She’s right,” Andy broke in quickly. “No one’s going to think anything about this old place burning up.”
He stepped in front of Nora, standing between the lantern and the corner where Joss and Carolyn lay. Carolyn felt Joss stir slightly, his body shifting along hers. She drew her breath in as he squirmed carefully in the shadows.
“Maybe so, Andy,” Joss said casually. “But I can’t help but wonder when your accident will happen.”
Without warning Carolyn felt the ropes loosen around her knees. As Joss shifted again, his hand lightly patted her leg, and with a shock, she realized he’d gotten untied.
She’d never been so frightened.
And yet, in some strange way, she felt remarkably calm.
Lying there, she looked into Joss’s face and slowly nodded to show him she understood. Then she steeled herself for whatever might happen next.
“Go on, Andy,” Nora said.
Andy hesitated … glanced back to the corner.
“I said go on,” Nora said, her voice hardening. “Or Carolyn gets to die now while both of you watch.”
She waited while Andy moved to the stairs. Her aim was focused and steady on Carolyn’s face, and she lifted the lantern with a hideous smile.
For one second the lantern seemed to hang there suspended, poised beside Nora’s head.
“Welcome to Glanton House,” she whispered.
Carolyn saw the blur as Joss hurtled forward. The impact knocked her sideways, and as she struggled for balance, Andy jerked her to her feet, frantically pulling at the gag and the ropes around her wrists. The lantern crashed to the wet floor beside the widow’s walk, and with a yell, Andy flung himself toward it, knocking it outside, beating at the flames with his arms. Desperately Carolyn wriggled out of her jacket and threw it at him, screaming.
In the flickering gloom, Joss and Nora were indistinct shadows, their cries harsh and muffled as they wrestled together on the floor. As a shaft of lightning split the darkness, Carolyn saw Joss suddenly fall to one side, and Nora struggled free.
She aimed her gun straight at Carolyn.
From some far-off place, someone yelled Carolyn’s name. As she realized she was about to die, Andy dived in front of her, and the gun went off.
The sound lasted forever.
It echoed on and on, like the thunder and lightning, the wind and the rain, and Carolyn couldn’t tell anymore which sound was which—
In slow motion she saw Joss tackle Nora.
In slow motion she saw Andy fall.
She saw the blood all over him and the agony on his face …
And then she heard Nora shriek.
As Carolyn looked on in horror, Nora writhed upon the attic floor, her eyes huge and wild, her mouth gaping.
The gun was still clutched in her hand.
But as Joss stepped slowly away from her, Nora struggled to her knees, and Carolyn saw the hook protruding from her back.
In horrible fascination they watched Nora.
Watched as her face contorted in rage … as she staggered to her feet agai
n … as she lifted the gun with shaking hands and once more aimed it at Carolyn.
Joss shoved her violently.
Nora gave a strangled cry, and as the gun flew out of her hand, she reeled back through the open doorway. For one split second her hands flailed uselessly at the air, clawing for one more breath of life.
Then her body pitched off the widow’s walk into the raging darkness below.
27
“THE HOUSE LOOKS GREAT!” MRS. BAXTER SMILED FROM the front doorway. “Did you do all this yourself?”
“Well, with a little help from Jean. She’s been finding books for me on how a sea captain’s house might have looked a century or so ago.”
Carolyn pushed her mother’s wheelchair into the room and positioned it comfortably beside the fireplace.
“I really mean it!” Mrs. Baxter bounced excitedly in her chair, then gritted her teeth and laughed. “Ouch! Remind me not to get so happy, okay? It’s too painful.”
“There’s still lots to do,” Carolyn said, surveying the room with a sigh. “If you’re still set on having guests.”
“Well, of course I am! Do you think I’m going to let a little broken leg slow me down? I mean, when you think about it, this place has had very minimal problems.”
“Minimal problems,” Carolyn murmured with a wan smile. “Well … I guess that depends on your point of view.”
“Oh, dear.” Mom bit her lip and gestured Carolyn to come closer. “Honey, I don’t mean to make light of all the hard work you’ve done. I know it’s been rough, what with Joss leaving without a word and Nora dying like that—”
She broke off at the distressed look on Carolyn’s face.
“Did they ever find out what happened to poor Nora?” she asked sympathetically, then shook her head in disbelief. “Imagine, finding her washed up like that on the beach …”
The thunder and the lightning and Nora’s body disappearing over the broken railing—
“She must have fallen from the cliffs,” Mrs. Baxter went on anxiously. “Or jumped, even. From what I’ve heard, no one’s that surprised because she was so odd. But what a horrible way to die—all battered up like that—and after her warning you to stay away from the cliffs like she did—”
And Andy’s arm was bleeding so bad, but somehow he and Joss finished untying me and got me downstairs to my room, but they made me promise to sit there and not look out any windows, they made me promise to sit there for a long, long time, and when I finally went out in the hall, hours and hours later, the attic door was closed, but it wasn’t locked.…
“I guess we’ll have to find someone else to help us,” Mrs. Baxter concluded. “Hmmm … what about that nice boy who brought the groceries that morning? Do you remember him?”
And I went up there, but the attic was just an attic … an empty room with four walls, and no sign of a secret passageway. Lots of dust and cobwebs, and a wet floor where rain had leaked in, and a door that led out to a broken widow’s walk.…
“I don’t know what happened to him,” Carolyn said, trying to focus in on her mother’s questions. “I think he moved or something.”
“That’s too bad.” Mom sighed. “He seemed like such a nice boy. And so did that Joss … but I guess you can’t expect a drifter like him to want to stick around for any length of time.”
“No,” Carolyn murmured. “I guess you can’t.”
And after Nora’s body finally washed up, the sheriff came by to ask some routine questions about her, and I told him that when she’d left here that evening, everything had been fine … just fine.…
“I wonder what will happen to him.” Mrs. Baxter mused. “I wonder what he’ll do with his life. I wonder if he’ll ever care about anyone.”
He told me he had to leave, and Andy looked so pale and weak standing there beside him, but he gave me a hug and said I’d be okay, that I’d always been okay—and I looked into Joss’s eyes and he put his hand on my forehead to smooth back my hair.…
“I wonder if we’ll ever even know?” Mrs. Baxter persisted.
And Joss said one more time … “You know I have to leave, Carolyn …” and he was smiling, “but this house has a way of bringing people back again,” he said—and “Come on,” Andy told him, “we’ve got to get out of here—”
And then Joss kissed me.
“Carolyn, are you all right?” Mom asked.
Carolyn shrugged. Suddenly she felt so sad.
“Still,” Mom went on brightly, “you never know. Someday he just might be back this way again, and he might just decide to stop in and see us and see how the guest house is doing. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”
“Yes.” Carolyn nodded, forcing a smile. “That would be wonderful.”
“Hello!” a voice called behind them. “Anyone home?”
Carolyn turned and immediately smiled. “Jean, come on in—join the homecoming! Mom, this is my friend Jean I’ve been telling you about.”
“I’m so glad to meet you!” Mrs. Baxter pumped Jean’s hand warmly. “Carolyn’s been telling me all about the research you’ve been helping her with. She’s really getting this place into shape.”
Jean hugged her and laughed. “Well, it might as well be authentic—and if I can suggest any historical decorating tips, I’m glad to do it. Oh, Carolyn, here’s your mail. I stopped at the post office and thought I’d save you a trip.”
“Thanks.” Carolyn nodded. “I’ll go make us some tea.”
Leaving Jean and her mother to chat, Carolyn went to the kitchen. She flipped quickly through the stack of bills and letters and started to put them down on the table when one particular envelope caught her eye.
It was addressed to her.
The postmark was from Canada.
With trembling fingers Carolyn tore it open, her eyes hastily scanning the message written inside:
My dear Carolyn,
The night is stormy as I write this … it fills my head and heart with bittersweet memories. I don’t know when this letter will reach you, or where I might be when it does … on some foreign sea, no doubt, exploring new and uncharted territories.
The journey has not been without its problems—or its dangers—but among my men there has been not one fatality, I’m happy to report.
Who can say what the future will bring? Perhaps someday we shall be reunited once more with those whose paths have crossed with ours.
The enclosed trinket is for you. I acquired it from a rather solitary gentleman who had no further use of it, and I knew at once that you should be the one to have it. Of itself it is worth very little … and yet the gentleman assured me it would bring you good fortune. When you wear it—and use it—I hope you will think of me.
Your loving Matthew
Carolyn stared down at the envelope. She tilted it up and let the contents slide out into her palm.
A necklace.
A tiny key on a delicate silver chain.
They never found Molly’s body. And the next time I went down to the cave, it was as if no one had ever lived there at all.…
Yet somehow Carolyn knew that when she went to the beach this afternoon and made her way to the back of Molly’s cave, that all she’d have to do was unlock the hidden door, and there it would be.
The golden hook.
Covered with jewels and sand and mystery, but not a trace of blood.…
“How’s that tea coming?” Mom asked as Jean wheeled her into the kitchen.
“Just fine.” Carolyn shoved the letter and chain into her pocket. “Ready in a second.”
“Oh, honey, it’s so good to be home.” Mom patted Carolyn’s hand and rested it against her cheek. “You do think it could be home now, don’t you?”
Carolyn looked down at her mother’s hopeful face. She lifted her eyes to the window, to the cold rainy morning, and then her heart quickened in her chest.
Was that something out there? Far off in the distance? Someone standing in the fog? Watching the house?
�
��Carolyn …” Her mother nudged her. “Do you think it could be?”
“I’m sure it could,” Carolyn murmured, and she moved to the windowpane and gazed out at the endless gray world beyond. “And every single traveler will want to come here and stay.”
She turned to her mother with a smile.
“Every one of them.”
A Biography of Richie Tankersley Cusick
Born on April Fool’s Day 1952, Richie Tankersley Cusick was destined at a young age to write scary books. In a career spanning three decades, she has paved the way for young-adult horror writing, a genre she continues to publish in today.
Although born in New Orleans—home to some of the country’s most ancient ghosts—Cusick spent her early years in a small bayou town called Barataria, which once provided a safe haven for the fearsome pirate Jean Lafitte. A true Southern writer, she took early inspiration from the landscape of crumbling mansions, Spanish moss, and aboveground cemeteries, and began writing stories at a young age. For years a ghost lurked in her family’s house, making particular trouble around the holidays, when he would strip the Christmas tree of its ornaments and hurl them to the floor.
After graduating from the University of Louisiana at Lafayette, Cusick took a job at Hallmark and moved to Kansas City, where she once again shared her home with a mischievous spirit. It was then that she started work on her first novel, Evil on the Bayou (1984), based on her childhood memories of life in the eerie Louisiana swamps. Its success allowed her to leave Hallmark and begin writing fulltime.
When Cusick’s novel-writing career began, horror fiction for teens was a new genre. Along with authors like Christopher Pike and R. L. Stine, Cusick pioneered the form, finding success writing chilling stories with only a dash of the gore that defines adult thrillers.
Since Evil on the Bayou, Cusick has written more than two dozen novels about everything from vampires to pirate ghosts. In 2003 she began The Unseen, a four-volume series about a young girl who is tormented by the occult. Cusick currently lives with her three dogs in Missouri, where she enjoys listening to classic horror-movie soundtracks as she writes on an antique roll-top desk once owned by a funeral director. The desk is, of course, haunted.
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