Afraid

by Jo Gibson

  “She could mean she was running away from home, leaving for good and planning never to come back. I’m still not convinced, Donna. Don’t forget about those things she bought at the drugstore before she left. Lipstick, sunglasses, perfume . . . that really doesn’t make any sense.”

  Donna thought about it for a minute, and then she nodded. “Okay. I thought it was pretty clear, but there’s a one-in-a-million chance you’re right. So maybe it was an accident, but we’ll never know for sure. And even worse, we’ll never know who R is, either!”

  Thirteen

  It was almost ten-thirty when they put on their coats and took the elevator down to the lobby. Donna had been surprised when Julie had offered to walk her home, but she hadn’t said no. Julie could tell that Donna was upset. She was upset, too, despite the crystal-clear night and the glorious stars overhead.

  When they got to the road, Donna stopped and turned to look at Julie. “You don’t have to walk me home. There’s no crime in Crest Ridge.”

  “I need the walk to clear my head.” Julie smiled at her friend. “Watching Vicki’s diary was really depressing.”

  “I know. It got to me, too. You know . . . I can watch a depressing movie and it doesn’t affect me at all, but this . . . this was real! I mean . . . I knew her! And it was almost as if she was right there in the room with us. I kept wanting to ask her questions, and hoping I could talk some sense into her, but all the time, I knew it was too late.”

  Julie nodded, and they walked in companionable silence, each of them thinking their own private thoughts about Vicki. Their footsteps crunched through the thin film of ice that glazed the deep snow, and their breath came out in puffy white clouds, turned silver by the bright moonlight. It was a lovely night, very calm, very peaceful. And gradually, Julie began to lose the anxious feeling she’d had when they’d watched Vicki’s tapes.

  “I feel a lot better,” Donna announced, turning to Julie with a smile. “Did you ever see such a beautiful moon? It must be full tonight.”

  “It must be.” Julie gazed up at the round silver globe peeking through the tall, graceful pines. The snow on the branches glistened with a soft, silver sparkle. The peaceful evening was a time for confidences, a time for sharing intimate secrets. But she couldn’t tell Donna about the stalker. Donna might think she was cracking up, like Vicki.

  They walked on in silence that was broken only by the sound of their own footsteps until they reached the houses at the edge of town. Snow was falling softly, and the old-fashioned street lights looked like the halos of very tall angels, circles of warm light in the deep, dark night. The sidewalks were covered with snow and they stayed on the street, walking at the edge of the plowed snow, skirting the mammoth white humps of parked cars.

  Julie smiled as she passed a house with light spilling out of an upstairs window. She saw the shadows of a man and a woman against the curtains, embracing. How nice to be married and live in a snug little house in a lovely town, where you were surrounded by all your friends and relatives.

  Suddenly Julie had a thought that made her shiver. Perhaps her parents would still be alive if they’d settled down at Saddlepeak Lodge. They could have helped Aunt Caroline and Uncle Bob run the business, and she could have grown up with Vicki. Things might have been very different then. But Julie’s parents hadn’t wanted to stay in the States. They’d enjoyed the excitement of moving from country to country, and Julie had enjoyed it, too. Until now. Until she realized what she’d missed. Her life with her parents had been temporary, dictated by the whims of a large corporation. She’d never really had a hometown.

  Children who grew up in Crest Ridge had a sense of continuity. They knew their grandparents, perhaps even their great-grandparents. When Julie touched the stones of the huge fireplace in the lobby, she knew that her great-great-grandfather had placed them there. And when she walked down the street in Crest Ridge, her feet traveled over the same path her ancestors had taken. In Crest Ridge, a house might stay in the same family for generations, passed on from the old to the new, complete with the memories of family history.

  She said goodnight, waited until the front door had closed behind Donna, and then she walked back up the street. It was clear that Donna wouldn’t believe her if she told the truth about the man she thought was stalking her. Donna hadn’t believed Vicki when she’d said the same things on the tape. But thinking about the stalker made her very nervous, and she tried to concentrate on the beautiful night, instead.

  Julie passed the houses on the outskirts of town, and walked up the hill in the direction of the lodge. The road stretched out before her, empty and desolate, a pristine white ribbon tied around a huge, silver package decorated with stark black pines. Black and white. There were no colors at night. Just the white, glistening snow and the dark silhouettes of trees lining the road, standing straight and tall like sentinels.

  Black and white. They made such a sharp contrast. They were such complete opposites, like wicked and good. Vicki hadn’t been wicked. Julie didn’t believe that. But she certainly hadn’t been good, either. She’d been somewhere in-between, a troubled person who’d had the same dreams as every other woman. Vicki had just longed desperately to be loved.

  Julie sighed as she remembered her cousin’s face, tearful and frightened, facing the camera. Her voice had been shaking, and she’d barely choked out the words when she’d talked about the man who was stalking her. Vicki had been terrified.

  Was the stalker still out there somewhere? Was she his new target? Julie shivered and walked a little faster. Perhaps it had been foolish to walk home alone. Paul would have driven her, if she’d let Donna ask him.

  Julie stopped as she reached the pine grove that grew at the side of the lodge. There was a path through the trees, a shortcut Donna had shown her, but she didn’t want to walk through the grove alone. She’d stick to the road, where it was safer, where a passing motorist might see her and stop, if she needed help. But there hadn’t been a car on the road all night. The snow was unbroken, except for the two pairs of descending boot prints she’d made with Donna when they’d walked to town.

  Without warning, a sudden gust of wind whipped up, lifting Julie’s green stocking cap from her head and sending it flying toward the pine grove. Julie dashed through the snow in pursuit, entering the pine grove without a second thought. Aunt Caroline had given her the stocking cap, and she didn’t want to lose it.

  It took a moment before Julie found it, caught on a low branch of a huge pine. She pulled it down, dusted off the snow with her gloves, and clamped it back on her head again, making sure to pull it down snugly over her ears. Then she looked around, surprised at how far she’d had to run to catch it. She could barely see the road from here, and it was dark and frightening under the trees, their heavy branches blocking the moonlight. There was very little snow under the trees. The thick branches that blocked the moon had also kept the snow from falling to the ground.

  The pine grove smelled like Christmas, an exciting, sharp, heady aroma. Julie knew she would have enjoyed the scent if she’d been here during the day. But this was night, and the wind that sighed through the branches sounded like a thousand lost souls moaning.

  There was a sharp crack and a branch came crashing down, overloaded with its burden of snow. Julie cried out and ran toward the road, gasping in the cold night air. She felt rather foolish when she broke through the trees and turned to see that no one was behind her. Thank goodness no one had seen her run out from the trees like a scared rabbit!

  Julie knew the driveway was only a short distance ahead. She felt like running, but she forced herself to stay calm and walk at a sedate pace. The driveway was steep. If she wore herself out now, she’d be gasping by the time she got to the lodge.

  It was then that she heard it, the crunch of footsteps behind her. Julie whirled, but she couldn’t see anyone following her. It was just her imagination, playing tricks on her. That falling branch had made her jumpy.

  Even though
she knew she was being ridiculous, Julie walked a little faster. But the footsteps seemed to speed up, too. She picked up her pace again and the footsteps matched hers, faster and faster as she crunched through the snow.

  Julie panicked for a moment, almost breaking into a full-scale run. Then she realized that she could be hearing the echo of her own footsteps. Sound did strange things up here in the mountains. She’d put it to the test and see if she was right.

  Julie slowed. The footsteps slowed. She stopped. They stopped. A wave of pure relief washed over her, so strong it took her a moment to catch her breath. It was definitely an echo. She had nothing to worry about.

  Another few minutes of walking, and Julie spotted the huge stone arch that marked the entrance to the lodge drive. It was twenty feet high at the tallest point, spanning the two-lane driveway. Because it sloped gently up and then down again, the guests sometimes climbed it in the summer, to have their pictures taken. Although no one had ever fallen from the arch, Julie’s grandfather had installed a railing on either side to make sure no accidents would occur.

  As Julie drew closer, she gazed at the arch in fascination. The stones were all sizes and shapes and colors, but every one had been found on Saddlepeak Lodge land. She remembered Donna telling her that it had taken a four man crew an entire summer to complete the arch to her great-great-grandfather’s satisfaction. He’d designed it to be a tourist attraction, and it still was, even today.

  The arch gleamed cold and stately under the moon. It looked almost medieval, and Julie could imagine oxcarts laden with straw and produce, passing under its immense stones. It could be a remnant left by a forgotten civilization, or a tribute to an ancient god, a primitive symbol to ward off evil and keep all who lived within its boundary safe and secure from· harm.

  Julie knew she was giving way to her imagination again, and she smiled. The arch was simply an arch, nothing more, nothing less. It was a way of marking the road so that tourists could find the lodge. But it was beautiful nonetheless, and Julie felt small and vulnerable as she looked up to see it looming over the driveway.

  Then she noticed something glittering brightly under the curve of arch—icicles. A long row of them, hanging down like giant, sharply pointed teeth. They looked like gleaming daggers, and she shuddered at the thought of walking beneath them. She hadn’t seen them when she’d passed through the archway with Donna.

  Did icicles ever fall? Julie walked closer, her eyes riveted on the glittering spears of ice. They would be a perfect murder weapon, striking with killing force and then melting away in the bright sunlight. As sharp as a pick, as heavy as a club, and capable of being reduced to harmless water before the victim was found.

  Julie stopped and looked up. She knew she didn’t want to walk under the row of jagged icicles, but there was no way around them, unless she went back to the shortcut. Which was worse? The pine grove, or the icicles? Walking through the pine grove would take much longer, and she’d worry every step of the way. If she ran under the icicles as fast as she could, she’d be through the archway in a heartbeat.

  It was the archway, then. Julie sighed and squared her shoulders. She’d never heard of anyone being killed by an icicle, and they’d been around since the beginning of time. It was silly to think that she might be the first.

  There was a scraping sound high above her, and Julie glanced up at the top of the arch. Was someone hiding up there? She’d managed to convince herself that the footsteps she’d heard had been only an echo. But what if the stalker had been following her, and he’d taken a shortcut to climb the arch? He could be waiting for her, waiting to knock the icicles loose as she walked through the archway!

  Julie stopped, uncertain, frightened, filled with the dread possibilities. But she couldn’t stand here all night, shivering with the cold, hoping that someone would come along to help her out of her quandary. She’d stick to her original plan and run through the archway. If the stalker was up there, he wouldn’t have time to knock the icicles loose before she got through.

  Zero to sixty in seven point three seconds: a line from a new car commercial popped into her mind. That’s what she needed—-a car. An icicle might dent the roof, but it certainly wouldn’t pierce through metal the way it would do with human flesh. But she didn’t have a car. And the road was dark and deserted behind her. If she didn’t make her move soon, her legs would stiffen up with the cold. If all she could do was hobble through the archway, she’d end up being a target for that much longer.

  Julie took a deep breath and prepared herself for the dash. She’d count to three and then she’d run. One . . . two . . . three!

  Julie lunged forward and raced toward the archway. Too fast to change her mind now. She was almost there. Almost through. Almost . . .

  Her foot hit a patch of ice and she slipped, tried to right herself, slipped again, and fell so hard it knocked the breath from her body. Right under the arch! My God! She had to get up!

  But before she could move, she heard a sharp crack and something hurtled down so close to her body, she felt a whoosh of air as it passed. They were falling! The icicles were falling! She had to get out of the way!

  Julie tried to roll, but she couldn’t seem to move. Something was pinning her down, holding her fast. And then there was a series of sharp cracks, and descending spears of ice began to puncture the snow, crashing all around her, hammering the ground with the dull thuds of heavy weights dropping from a great height. One massive, gleaming spear landed just inches in front of her nose, its tip as sharp as a stiletto.

  It seemed to go on forever, the stark terror of knowing that she could be skewered any moment. Julie couldn’t move, and she was too frightened to cry out. All she could do was bury her face in the frigid snow and pray that she wouldn’t be killed. Not now. Not yet. Not like Vicki!

  Then it was over. Julie’s heartbeat sounded deafeningly loud in the total silence. And then she realized that if her heart was still beating, she was . . . alive!

  Julie twisted from side to side, trying to pull herself free, but something was holding her down. She raised her head and shuddered as she saw that an icicle had pierced the right sleeve of her jacket, narrowly missing her arm. She reached out awkwardly with her left hand to try to jerk it out, but it was embedded too deeply for her to dislodge.

  But she had to get up! She had to get to her feet and run! He was still up there, up on the archway. She had to escape before he climbed down!

  And then she heard footsteps crunching through the snow. Coming fast. Running toward her. Footsteps that approached like the hoofbeats of doom.

  Julie shut her eyes. She couldn’t bear to look! But then she heard the fabric of her jacket tear and she could move again. She opened her eyes to face Vicki’s murderer, and the man who would surely kill her, now that his plan had failed. And her mouth fell open in shock.

  “Paul?” Julie’s voice was tentative and shaking, like the mewl of a frightened kitten.

  “Jesus, Julie!” Paul dropped to his knees, and put his arms around her. “Are you hurt?”

  “Uh . . . no.” It took a moment for his words to sink in. He’d asked if she was hurt. You didn’t ask someone a question like that if you were going to kill them.

  “Here . . . let me help you up.” Paul lifted her gently to her feet. “My God, Julie! You were almost killed!”

  Julie nodded, sagging against Paul’s arms in relief. Paul was here. Everything was all right now. She was safe in the protective circle of his arms. And then she remembered the stalker. And how the icicles had fallen.

  “He’s up there! Paul! On top of the arch!”

  Paul stepped back, and looked up. “Who’s up there? I don’t see anyone.”

  “He was up there a minute ago! He knocked the icicles loose! He tried to kill me, Paul!”

  “Who?”

  “I . . . I don’t know. But I saw someone up there, right before I went through the archway. That’s why I was running. I thought maybe I could get through before
he could do it!”

  “Julie . . . honey. You’re getting hysterical.” Paul wrapped her in his arms again. “There’s no one up there. I guarantee it. And I didn’t see anyone come down.”

  “He must have climbed down when you were pulling the icicle loose. He’s still out there, Paul! And now he’s going to try to kill me again!”

  “Hold on. Just take it easy, okay?” Paul helped her over to the side of the archway where there was a place to sit down. “Just rest for a minute and catch your breath. You’re safe, Julie. I won’t let anyone hurt you.”

  He didn’t believe her! Julie felt tears come to her eyes, and then she began to sob. She had to convince him that she was in danger. He had to believe her!

  Paul pulled her close and patted her back. “Come on, Julie. I know you had a bad scare, but you’re not making any sense right now. Why do you think that someone’s trying to kill you?”

  Between sobs, Julie told him about the face she’d seen outside her balcony, the scare she’d had at the ice rink, the whispery voice on the phone, the avalanche, and her near-accident on Dead Man’s Run. She even told him about last night, when she’d been locked in the game cooler. The only thing Julie left out was Vicki’s taped diary. And when she was finished, she looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “Doesn’t that prove someone is after me?”

  “Oh, Julie.” Paul bent down and kissed her softly on the lips. Then he brushed back her hair and put her stocking cap back on her head. “Everything’s all right, Julie. You had a horrible scare, and you’re not thinking straight.”

  “You don’t believe me!” Julie broke into fresh sobs.

  “Of course I believe you. I just think you’re jumping to conclusions. I know you’ve had a rough time. It must have been horrible to lose your parents, and it’s bound to be hard to adjust to life in a small place like Crest Ridge. Just take it day by day, and try to calm down. The kind of stress you’ve had would be enough to drive anybody a little batty.”