Party Summer

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Party Summer Page 9

by R. L. Stine


  Eric smiled at her, then moved his eyes past her to the big dining-room windows. “Not a beach day today,” he said, smoothing the front of his Grateful Dead T-shirt with an open hand.

  Cari saw that the sky was gray with heavy clouds that pressed all the way to the ground. A steady drizzle came down, the wind bending the grasses on the dune as if a giant foot were stepping on them.

  “Yuck,” she said, turning back to her cereal bowl.

  “Well, we’ll get a lot of work done,” Eric said cheerily. “We can probably get all the paper stripped on that side, and finish up the molding too.”

  “Anybody up for another tunnel adventure?” Craig asked brightly.

  Eric and Cari both made disapproving faces and didn’t bother to reply.

  They worked the rest of the morning and didn’t break for lunch until one-thirty.

  “So where’s Jan?” Cari asked as they washed their hands in the big steel sink in the kitchen. “She never sleeps this late.”

  “Yeah, you’re right,” Eric agreed, glancing around as if expecting to see her in the kitchen.

  “She’s probably off with Simon or Edward,” Craig suggested. “We haven’t seen either of them today.”

  “Yeah. Maybe she and Simon took the dinghy to Provincetown to see Rose,” Eric said, drying his hands on the legs of his jeans.

  “I think she would have told us if she was going somewhere,” Cari said.

  “Well, you’re not worried about her, are you?” Eric asked, his face showing his concern. “We could form a search party.”

  “No, I’m not worried,” Cari lied. “I’m sure you’re right. She’s probably off with Simon.”

  Martin, who also hadn’t been seen since breakfast, had left cold sandwiches and drinks for them in the refrigerator.

  They ate quickly in the gray light of the cavernous dining room. It was thundering outside. The dark sky had continued to rumble even though the steady rain of the morning had momentarily stopped.

  They worked all afternoon, stripping wallpaper. The door to the hidden passageway was completely revealed but none of the three friends felt the slightest desire to open it or venture back into the twisting, dark tunnels.

  At four-thirty they put down their tools, pushed the scaffolding against the wall, and went upstairs to take showers.

  Passing Jan’s room, Cari stopped, hesitated at the door, then knocked.

  Silence.

  She turned the knob and pushed the door open. All of the lights were on. Jan’s bed was unmade. There were clothes tossed on the armchair and across the bed.

  Nothing unusual.

  But no sign of Jan.

  “Where are you, Jan?” Cari called aloud.

  The only reply was a creaking from the hallway, just the old hotel settling.

  They heard Simon come in the front door as they ate dinner in the dining room, and watched as he passed the doors, walking quickly, not pausing to glance in.

  “Simon?” Cari called. She wanted to ask if he knew where Jan was.

  But he didn’t seem to hear her. He went straight up the stairs to his room.

  “Hey, you know what? I really am worried about Jan,” Cari admitted to Eric and Craig.

  As if on cue, Martin entered from the kitchen, carrying a tray. “Where is the dark-haired one?” he asked.

  “You haven’t seen her?” Cari asked.

  Martin shook his head.

  “We assumed she was with Simon,” Craig said. “Did he go to Provincetown or something?”

  Again Martin shook his head. “Simon went to see the workers, to find out when they planned to return. I haven’t seen your friend.”

  Martin’s words sent a stab of fear to Cari’s chest. Her eyes followed him as he turned and went back to the kitchen.

  “We’ve got to look for Jan,” Cari said, suddenly cold all over. “Should we split up or stay together?”

  “Stay together,” Eric replied quickly. “We’ll start upstairs.”

  “Where can she be?” Craig asked, shaking his head.

  “Maybe the ghost got her,” Cari said.

  Eric gave her a searching look, then shook his head. “It wasn’t a ghost who moved the scaffolding against the door,” he said heatedly.

  “Eric’s right,” Craig agreed quickly. “It had to be Martin—or Edward. Let’s forget about ghosts.”

  “Let’s just find Jan,” Cari said.

  They began their search in Jan’s room. There were no clues, Cari realized. All of Jan’s things seemed to be there. It was impossible to tell if she had slept in the bed or not.

  A chalked pentacle had been half-rubbed into the floor at the foot of the bed. Cari saw it first and pointed it out to the boys. “If she summoned the ghost and the ghost took her somewhere …” Cari started.

  Craig and Eric were determined not to talk about ghosts.

  Are they afraid there just might be a ghost? Cari wondered, following them out of Jan’s room, closing the door softly behind her.

  They searched in all the rooms along the hallway of the old wing, without success. Then they searched the lobby and the adjoining rec room. They looked in the office, which was dark and silent.

  Carrying flashlights, they ventured onto the terrace. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still blanketed with low clouds. The air was hot and wet, and Cari felt as if they were walking through a giant steam bath.

  “Jan—where are you?” she called as they walked past the pool, the water nearly to the top because of all the rain.

  No sign of her.

  “This is scary,” Cari said. She grabbed Eric’s hand. Despite the steaminess of the night, it was ice-cold.

  “We have to tell Simon she’s missing,” Eric said.

  “We can call the Willow Island police,” Cari said, not letting go of Eric’s hand. Willow Island was larger, only ten minutes away by motorboat.

  “Do you know where Simon’s room is?” Craig asked as they headed back toward the hotel, walking quickly, their flashlights pointed at the wet sandy ground.

  “I think I can find it,” Cari said. And then she couldn’t hold her fear back any longer. “Where can Jan be? I’m so scared!” she cried, sounding like a little girl. “This was supposed to be a fun summer. But instead we’re in this creepy, empty place, with ghosts and horrible tunnels and skulls with sticky stuff all over them. I just want to get out of here.”

  Eric put an arm around her shoulders. “We’ll find Jan,” he said softly. “Simon will know where she is.” His words were comforting, but his eyes reflected her fear.

  “I hope Simon hasn’t gone to bed,” Craig said.

  Even cool Craig is scared, Cari thought, glancing at his troubled face.

  “It’s still early,” Cari said, checking her watch. “It isn’t even eight-thirty.” She stopped in front of the door at the top of the stairs, the door with no room number. “This is it.”

  She raised her hand to knock.

  A loud cry made her pull her hand away.

  At first she thought that Eric had cried out.

  But she quickly realized that the cry had come from inside the room.

  All three of them moved closer to the door to listen.

  Another cry. A man’s voice.

  Someone was yelling.

  A heated argument was taking place inside. Frightened, Cari pulled Eric and Craig back a few steps.

  Simon was yelling at Edward. Edward’s voice was gruff in reply.

  And then the woman shouted out her disapproval of both of them.

  Cari gripped Eric’s hand tightly. “Did you hear her too?” she whispered.

  “The woman?” Eric asked, his face close to her ear, his hand squeezing hers more tightly.

  “You’re crazy!” the woman screamed.

  “Who are you calling crazy?” Edward replied, his voice filled with menace.

  “You’re both crazy,” the woman insisted. “You should be locked up.”

  “I’m warning you—�
� Edward threatened.

  “Leave her alone!” Simon cried, sounding frightened.

  “Don’t defend her. She doesn’t need you to defend her,” Edward snapped. “You’re worthless. Worthless.”

  “You’re not frightening us, Edward,” the woman insisted.

  “Hey!” Simon shouted suddenly. “Don’t do that!”

  Cari grabbed Eric’s arm. Was the argument on the other side of the door turning into a real fight?

  “I won’t stay for the party,” the woman was shouting inside the room.

  “You don’t have a choice,” Edward shouted back at her, his voice rough, his tone ugly.

  “You’d better listen to Edward,” Cari heard Simon say. “I’ve begged him and begged him. But to no avail. Edward, if you’d only listen to reason—”

  “You keep out of this!” Edward bellowed at the top of his lungs. “I’ve already warned you—”

  “Edward, please—” the woman cried. “No! Don’t! Put that down!”

  “Don’t be foolish!” Simon cried, sounding very alarmed.

  “Eric, Craig, let’s go back to our rooms. I’m really frightened,” Cari whispered, trying to pull them away.

  “Ssshhh—just a minute,” Eric insisted, listening intently to the argument on the other side of the door.

  “Edward—stop!” the woman screamed.

  “No! I beg of you!” Simon cried, clearly frightened. “I beg of you! As a brother, I beg of you! Please—Edward—don’t!”

  “Guys—come on!” Cari pleaded.

  She heard Simon scream.

  Then, a second later, she heard the gunshot, deafening even through the heavy wooden door.

  Then silence.

  Chapter 16

  A TERRIBLE “ACCIDENT”

  Cari froze. Her breath caught in her throat.

  She didn’t realize how hard she was squeezing Eric’s hand until he pulled his away in pain.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Eric said, his face white in the dim hall light, his eyes wide with fear. But he made no move to leave. Craig’s face had gone slack, his mouth hanging open, his breath coming in loud gasps.

  It was still silent on the other side of Simon’s door.

  Dead silent.

  A few seconds later the door to Simon’s room burst open, and Edward staggered out. He gripped the hunting rifle in one hand, holding it out in front of him at arm’s length. The rifle was smoking.

  Edward’s one good eye was wide with terror. He was wearing his usual outfit, the safari jacket, a disheveled sport shirt and wrinkled trousers. His white hair stood out on his head at odd angles.

  Cari and the two boys took a step back, then another.

  Edward seemed to be totally deranged. Out of control and dangerous.

  He stormed out into the hall and slammed against the opposite wall. The four teenagers had stopped to huddle a few doorways down the hall. He stared at them as if not quite believing they were there, bewildered and wild with excitement at the same time.

  “An accident!” he cried, his hoarse voice unnaturally high. “My brother Simon has had a terrible accident!”

  He swung the rifle around.

  Cari screamed.

  For a second it appeared that he was going to fire at her!

  But he continued swinging it in a wild arc, frenzied. “A terrible accident!” he repeated.

  Cari heard rapid footsteps coming up the stairs. A few seconds later Martin appeared, wearing a dark robe and leather slippers, his hair tufted wildly about his head. “Edward—what is it?” he demanded. “What’s going on?”

  Edward, lurching unsteadily from side to side, bumping against the hallway walls, uttered a loud cry of despair. “A terrible accident,” he told Martin. “Simon has had a terrible accident.”

  Martin’s normally stony face seemed to crumble. His mouth dropped open. His gray eyes momentarily glazed over, then grew wide with fright. “Accident?”

  “Call a doctor!” Cari screamed. “He’s shot Simon! Call a doctor!” She started to open the bedroom door.

  “Get out of there!” Martin shrieked.

  Cari was so startled by his wild reaction, she stumbled into Eric.

  “But Simon is hurt in there!” Eric protested to Martin. “And there’s a woman in there too! We heard her!”

  “Get away!” Martin cried, moving quickly to block the door.

  “A terrible, terrible accident,” Edward muttered, still staggering, seemingly out of control.

  “Call a doctor!” Cari repeated. “How can you just stand there?”

  “It’s too late for a doctor,” Edward snarled. He seemed more angry than contrite.

  “What?” Martin cried, his face crimson in the dim hall light.

  “It’s too late. My brother is dead.”

  “How could you? How could you kill Simon?” Martin shrieked, his voice high and shrill.

  “I told you it was an accident,” Edward snapped.

  Edward and Martin stared at each other, unblinking, challenging the other to back down.

  Edward pulled the rifle in closer to his side.

  Martin shook his head. He took a deep breath. “Edward, you know it wasn’t an accident.”

  Edward didn’t react.

  “Admit it, Edward,” Martin said angrily. “Admit it. It wasn’t an accident. You shot him. Admit it. You shot Simon.”

  This can’t be happening, Cari thought, staring at Edward, waiting for him to react. This can’t be happening. Why isn’t anyone going into the room? What about Simon? What about the woman?

  “Admit it,” Martin said more loudly, more firmly.

  Edward stared back in silence, his eyes wild.

  “That’s quite enough from you,” he said finally.

  He raised the hunting rifle to his shoulder.

  He aimed it at Martin.

  “No! Oh no!” Cari screamed.

  Chapter 17

  A DISAPPEARANCE

  “Put down the gun,” Martin said. His voice was calm, but he was trembling all over.

  Edward didn’t move. The hunting rifle was pointed at Martin’s chest, less than three feet away.

  “Put down the gun, Edward.”

  Cari pressed back against a doorway, huddled against Eric and Craig, too frightened to move. Would Edward shoot? His face was half in shadow now. It looked to her as if he were wearing a mask, one side dark and shadowy and terrifying, the other pale and uncertain and frightened.

  “Put down the gun. You know you’re not going to shoot me,” Martin said. Even though he was trembling, he stood his ground, staring unblinking at Edward’s shadowy face, and spoke in low tones.

  Edward didn’t reply.

  To Cari, Edward’s silence was more frightening than his rage. Was he going to listen to Martin? Was he going to lower the rifle? Or was he going to shoot?

  Shoot Martin.

  Shoot them all—

  Kill them all, as he had Simon.

  Edward took a step back, disappearing farther into shadows. He slowly lowered the rifle, but then raised it again.

  “Let’s go downstairs,” Martin said coolly, not moving from his spot in front of the open door. “Let’s go downstairs and discuss this, Edward. Let’s talk this out, okay? We’ve always been able to talk before.”

  Will Edward do it? Will he listen? Cari wondered. She leaned back against Eric and clutched at his hand. She realized he was holding his breath too. She exhaled deeply and closed her eyes for a brief second.

  “Come on, Edward,” Martin said, his voice unsteady. Perspiration ran down his forehead. “You’re keeping our guests up. It’s very late.”

  “Very late,” Edward repeated, his first words in what seemed to Cari an eternity.

  “Let them go back to their rooms. You and I will go downstairs and have a chat.” Martin glanced quickly at Cari and her friends, then returned immediately to Edward.

  Again, Edward started to lower the rifle, then changed his mind. “None of your tri
cks!” he bellowed.

  He’s going to shoot now, Cari thought, squeezing Eric’s clammy hand.

  He’s going to shoot us all now.

  “No tricks,” Martin said, holding out his hands as if to show there was nothing up his sleeves. “Just put down the rifle.”

  Silence.

  Endless silence.

  Then Edward lowered the barrel of the rifle to the floor and leaned on the stock. “It was just an accident. A terrible accident,” he said gruffly, gazing back into the room.

  “Let’s go downstairs and discuss it,” Martin said softly. Obviously relieved, he stepped forward and took Edward’s arm. “You kids go to your rooms. Get away from that door. Now! I’ll deal with this,” he said and began to lead Edward down the stairs.

  Cari sighed loudly and dropped to her knees.

  “Ow,” Eric groaned behind her. “My hand. You squeezed it into mush!”

  “I’m sorry,” Cari managed to say, her heart still pounding. “I didn’t realize—” The hallway started to spin. She closed her eyes, willing away the dizziness.

  “We’ve got to get out of here,” Craig said, leaning against the wall. “He’s crazy.”

  “What about Simon?” Cari asked. “Maybe he … maybe he’s alive.”

  “And what happened to the woman?” Eric added. “Did she just disappear—like a ghost?”

  “Oh no!” cried Cari, too frightened to think clearly. “Did Edward kill her too?”

  “Come on—I don’t care what Martin said. Let’s check it out,” Eric said, helping Cari to her feet.

  She took a deep breath. And then another. It helped a little. At least the walls had stopped dancing in front of her eyes.

  Eric led the way into the room, followed by Cari and Craig, who looked pale and shaken and was swallowing hard. “I’ve never seen a dead body,” he said.

  “Neither have I,” Cari said, shuddering.

  The room smelled of death.

  Gunpowder and sweat. And death.

  The three teenagers found themselves in a large sitting room, furnished in white leather and chrome, not at all the rustic style of the rest of the hotel. A long, sleek couch was flanked by an armchair and a recliner, all modern and white. A low glass coffee table in front of the couch held a silver teapot and several china cups, half-filled. A white wooden desk had been built into the wall behind the couch.

 

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