by Diane Hoh
Chapter 16
“I DIDN’T TAKE ANYTHING!” Reed gasped before she could stop herself.
But Rain seemed unperturbed. “McCoy, calm down,” he said smoothly as he and Reed entered the house. “And please don’t start ranting and raving about thieves again. What’s missing?”
“Bread,” his mother said firmly.
Reed stared at her. Bread?
“Bread?” Rain said, uttering a small laugh. “You’re missing bread?”
The author stood her ground. “I wanted to make a sandwich. I’m hungry. There was a whole loaf of bread in the breadbox this morning, and now it’s gone.”
“McCoy,” Rain said patiently, even as he rolled his eyes heavenward, “you haven’t been to the store this week. I asked you if you needed anything, and you said no, remember?”
The writer’s annoyance was immediately replaced by bewilderment. “No, I …”
Rain led the way to the kitchen, talking about his mother as if she weren’t there. “I keep telling her, for someone who’s so paranoid about thieves, she should keep the house locked. Or at least quit wearing headphones while she works so she can tell if someone has come into the house. She won’t listen to me. Then she panics any time something is missing. It would serve her right if thieves waltzed in here and took her beloved computer.”
Exactly what Reed had thought.
“I wanted to make a sandwich,” his mother said as they entered the kitchen, a cold, cheerless room with fading linoleum on the floor. “There was bread here this morning. I remember, I made toast. Where did the bread go?”
“That was yesterday. You had toast yesterday,” Rain said, opening cupboard doors and drawers. “I’ll go into town and get some groceries. You should have told me when I asked you.” Turning to Reed, he said, “You look worried. But I’ll be back in time to walk you back to campus. Don’t go without me, okay?”
Reed wasn’t worried because Rain was leaving. What was really bothering her was her disappointment that there was no new crisis in the house, after all. Shouldn’t she be relieved? Instead, what she felt was almost disappointment.
You are really sick, she told herself. Get a grip. Promising Rain that she’d wait until he got back, she sat down at the desk in the living room.
Then Rain was gone, and Victoria McCoy was saying briskly, in a perfectly normal tone of voice, “Time to get to work. I’ll be in my office if you need me.”
That’s how she keeps writing, Reed thought in awe. She fades out of reality long enough to think a loaf of bread is missing and then, two minutes later, she’s perfectly normal. What must it be like for Rain, living with that all the time? Up one minute, down the next, like a yo-yo. Very scary.
“Oh, by the way,” the author said as she moved down the hallway, “we anchored those bookshelves last night. I wouldn’t want you sitting there worrying about being bombarded by books again. Tell my son to let me know when he gets back, would you? I really am hungry.” As she entered her office, Reed could hear her murmuring, “I was so sure I had toast this morning …”
When Reed sat down at the desk in the living room, it helped to know the bookshelves were firmly anchored to the wall. That was one thing she wouldn’t have to worry about.
But that still left her with a long list.
She pulled herself together and began typing, struggling to concentrate on what she was doing. But she had barely begun when she heard again the muted, scratching sounds of the day before. Instinctively, she swiveled her head to glance fearfully over her shoulder.
The bookshelves were still firmly fastened to the wall.
Poe was silent.
The brass raven was not moving.
Squirrels?
Reed took a deep breath. The bookshelves were no threat. The window was closed and locked. And it wasn’t as if she were in the gloomy old house by herself. McCoy was in another room. But what about that black bat-creature in the grove last night? Where was it now?
Old houses made noise. That was what old houses did. And that’s what this one was doing, all by itself, with no help from anyone, Reed told herself.
Then the sound came again. She tilted her head to listen carefully, trying to discern its source. The roof? McCoy’s office? Scratching. A scratching sound. From inside the walls?
A mouse, maybe.
The sound stopped then, as suddenly as it had begun.
Poor little mouse found a way out, Reed thought with relief, and resumed her typing. Lucky mouse.
Rain hadn’t returned by four o’clock. She waited five minutes longer, then, unwilling to tackle the pine grove after dark, put on her jacket and left the house.
It wasn’t dark yet, but the day was gray and cloudy, with a thin veneer of sleet beginning to fall. The ground was already coated with it, making footing treacherous. Reed had to pick her way carefully. Her eyes darted nervously back and forth as she walked. That black thing, swooping down upon them from the trees … where was it now? Had it been looking for her? Or Link? Or for both of them?
It could still be in there somewhere, following her. Watching her. Waiting to get her.
She burst out of the grove onto Faculty Row breathing heavily, so glad to see the friendly white houses that she almost cried out.
She was halfway down the slippery street when she heard the forlorn wail of an ambulance. In spite of how ridiculous she knew it was, her first thought was … Rain. He hadn’t returned to the house by four o’clock as he’d promised. And she hadn’t run into him yet, on his way home. He couldn’t have been at the grocery store so long, could he?
Where was he?
Had something happened to him?
Don’t be silly, she told herself, but still, anxiety made its clammy way up her spine.
Maybe on his way back to the house, he’d run into the black thing from last night, only this time it hadn’t been interrupted.
She hurried to the dorm to call the McCoy house and see if Rain had returned. Maybe there was another way to get to the house from town, and he’d taken that route. That would explain why they hadn’t met as she made her way back from the house.
If there was another way in, she’d use it next time, even if it took longer. Anything to avoid the pine grove.
There was no answer at the McCoy house. Those damn headphones! Or had the sleet knocked out the telephone the way McCoy had said a snowstorm did?
Reed suddenly felt foolish. She was overreacting. Rain wasn’t really missing. He’d probably found something else to do in town and forgotten that he’d promised to be back by four o’clock. He didn’t think she needed taking care of, after all, the way Link seemed to. Refreshing … that was refreshing, right?
So why was she so disappointed that he hadn’t made it back in time to walk her through the grove?
She was supposed to go to a movie in town with Link, Jude, and Debrah. Lilith said she was doing more research on McCoy and had opted out of the movie.
Must have killed her, passing up a chance to be with Link, Reed thought cynically as she changed from sleet-dampened clothes into black skirt, sweater, and boots.
Just before she left the room, on an impulse, she called the Twin Falls Hospital and asked if an Edgar Allan Raintree had been brought in. It couldn’t hurt to make sure. That way, she wouldn’t be worried while she was with Link, and Rain’s name wouldn’t slip from between her lips.
“No, ma’am,” the voice at Admissions said. “No one by that name has been brought in today.”
“Thank you,” Reed said, and hung up, satisfied. Wherever Rain was, he was okay.
That was good news. She grabbed her jacket and left the room.
The bad news came when, after the movie, they were all sitting in Burgers Etc., and Lilith came in, brushing sleet from her coat and rushing over to their booth. “Guess what?” she cried, her cheeks red with cold. “They found Carl Nordstrum’s car. And he wasn’t in it.” While Reed tried to digest that bit of news, Lilith, sliding into the booth
and sitting as close to Link as any human being could possibly get, added, “See? Link was right all along. Something did happen to Carl. That was a really nice car. He wouldn’t have just dumped it.”
“They found his car?” Lilith looked so pleased with herself for being the one to bring them news, Reed wanted to smack her. “Where?”
“In the river,” Lilith said smugly. “Someone put it there, of course. On purpose! No one knows what happened to Carl.”
Reed made an impatient sound. “Don’t be so dramatic. I hope nothing’s happened to Carl, but if it did, he could have accidentally driven off the river road. It’s happened before. More than once, from what I’ve heard.”
“Oh, Reed,” Lilith said in a superior voice, “they’d have found him in his car, then. Still in his seat belt, probably. But he wasn’t there.”
“The current in that river is pretty strong,” Jude said.
“That’s horrible,” Debrah declared, her face white. “Do you really think he’s dead?”
“I heard the police are looking into it,” Lilith said. Then, her voice deliberately sweet, “Reed, you look awfully upset for someone who loves this kind of stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“You know, death and carnage and all of that. I mean, Carl is probably dead, and no one knows how or why. I’d think you would find that intriguing, considering.”
“Considering what?” Reed asked sharply. “You make me sound like some kind of ghoul, Lilith. I’m not.” But, a little voice in her head reminded her, you were disappointed that there weren’t any thieves at the McCoy house today. And you were sort of hoping to see that bat-thing in the grove again.
But she had never wanted Carl Nordstrum dead.
She waited for Link to come to her defense, to yell at Lilith for implying that Reed got some kind of sick satisfaction out of Lilith’s news, but Link didn’t say a word. Just kept playing with his straw wrapper, as if Lilith had done nothing more than ask Reed the time of day.
Furious, Reed got up and went to the pay phone, where she called the McCoy house again.
Still no answer.
If Rain were home, he’d have answered the phone.
Maybe he’d come home and gone back out, to get something to eat or go to a movie or a party or something.
She called her own room, thinking he might have called and left a message.
“No,” Tisha said, “but that Karen Overmeyer called again. She sounded upset that you hadn’t called her. Didn’t you get my message?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t had time …”
“Well, you’d better call her. I’m tired of dealing with her. She’s a real flake. Call her, Reed.”
Reed took down the number, but she knew she wasn’t going to call. She was already in a bad mood, thanks to Lilith baiting her and Link refusing to defend her. Why make it worse by listening to gossip about McCoy?
Maybe tomorrow.
They stayed at Burgers Etc. a long time, playing pool and listening to the jukebox. Reed gave Link and Lilith the cold shoulder, talking instead to Jude and Debrah. She was waiting for Link to apologize for not defending her.
I’d better not hold my breath, she told herself, watching Link and Lilith standing near the jukebox talking and laughing. He didn’t defend me against Lilith because he agrees with her.
Maybe they were both right. Maybe there was something wrong with her.
Rain didn’t seem to think so.
Where was he?
Chapter 17
THE SLEET WAS STILL coming down when they finally left the restaurant. They stood in the lobby watching it coat the pavement with ice.
“Hey, Jude,” Debrah said, “be a gentleman and let me wear your raincoat. All I have on is this little windbreaker. I’ll be sliced to ribbons by falling ice.”
Jude clutched at the belt on his long black raincoat. “Oh, so it’s okay if I freeze?”
“You won’t freeze. You’re wearing a heavy sweater underneath, I can see it.”
Reluctantly, Jude shrugged out of the raincoat and handed it to Debrah. “Good thing I wore this sweater,” he groused, watching as Debrah buckled the raincoat’s belt. The sleeves were too long on her. She laughed and flapped her hands in the air like a performing seal.
“Except for the sleeves, it fits,” Reed said, surprise in her voice. “You two must be about the same size.”
Still shaking the billowing sleeves, Debrah ran outside, sliding around in the parking lot, waving her arms in the air.
Everyone was laughing at her clowning, but Reed just stared. What she was seeing wasn’t funny. What she was seeing was a figure that looked a lot like Debrah looked now, skulking around in the pine grove.
But it wasn’t Debrah’s raincoat. It was Jude’s.
Unsettled, Reed joined the group waiting in the parking lot for the small yellow shuttle bus back to campus. Sleet pelted them, but no one seemed to mind. Debrah and Jude were skating on the slick pavement, laughing when one of them fell, while Link and Lilith watched.
The feeling of isolation that Reed had felt in the restaurant intensified. Maybe she really was different from the rest of them. Maybe the only thing that held them together was the fan club.
She didn’t like the feeling of being separate. She marched over to Link and Lilith, but they were already deep into a discussion, and didn’t seem interested in including her.
She turned away, intent on watching for the shuttle bus, which couldn’t have come fast enough to suit her, and saw instead a black car approaching. It skidded to a halt on the edge of the parking lot, and the driver jumped out.
Rain.
Relief washed over Reed. He was okay. He hadn’t been attacked in the pine grove, he wasn’t missing like Carl, hadn’t been drowned like Sunny Bigelow. He was fine.
“Hey, come on!” he called, “I’ll haul you all back to campus.”
Reed immediately moved toward the car, but Link called out, “Hey! Where are you going? You’re with me, remember?”
Reed turned around. “Doesn’t look that way to me. Looks to me like Lilith is with you. Jude, Debrah, are you coming?”
Debrah glanced in Link’s direction, nodded, and tugging Jude along behind her, hurried toward Rain’s car.
Link and Lilith stayed where they were.
Reed shrugged, and slid into the front seat.
When they had dropped off Debrah and Jude, Rain drove Reed to Lester. She was about to get out of the car when he put a hand on her arm and said, “Sorry I didn’t make it back in time to walk you across campus. McCoy gave me an empty checkbook. No checks in it. I didn’t have any cash on me, so I had to go to the bank. Took a while.”
“I don’t need an escort,” Reed said testily. He was sounding too much like Link. If there was anyone she didn’t want Rain to sound like just now, it was Lincoln Stark. “I made it back just fine. It’s not that far, Rain.”
“I know. I just wouldn’t like it if anything happened to you.”
“You mean, like your mother’s other assistants?”
Rain’s face grew grim. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Reed told him about the discovery of Carl Nordstrum’s car in the river.
“I already heard about it. What makes you think it has anything to do with my mother’s other assistants?” Rain was watching her intently.
What had she meant? Suddenly, Reed wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure of anything anymore. “I don’t know,” she answered weakly, at last.
“They haven’t found him yet, though, have they?” Rain asked.
Reed shook her head. “No. Lilith was hinting that he never went into the river. That something worse happened to him.” She thought about Carl’s body hidden deep within the cold, rushing waters of the river, and shuddered. What could be worse than that? “Do you think that’s possible?”
“You’re talking to someone who was raised on horror novels,” he said, smiling. “I’ve always thought anything was possible, no matt
er how horrible. But,” reaching out to pull her close to him, “that doesn’t mean I like talking about it.”
She was surprised to be kissing someone other than Link. An hour earlier, she might have felt guilty about it. But not now. Link had stayed behind with Lilith. Now she was here with Rain. End of story.
And then she forgot about Link altogether.
The first thing she did when she got back to her room was check for telephone messages.
The note was on the dresser.
You didn’t call Karen Overmeyer, Tisha had written accusingly. So she’s coming to see you. Taking the bus all the way from Baracca, so it must be important. Wants to meet you in front of the library at eleven. Be there, so we can get her off our backs! There was a P.S. She said to tell you she looks exactly like her sister and she’ll be wearing a purple raincoat.
Reed glanced at the clock on her bedside table. Almost eleven now. So late! Why would Karen be coming all the way to campus this late at night? Couldn’t it have waited until morning? What could be so urgent?
Reed hated the idea of going back out into the dark, cold night, back into that pelting sleet. But she couldn’t just ignore the message. Karen would be waiting for her.
Donning an extra sweater under her jacket, Reed reluctantly left the room.
There was no one in front of the library. Although it was open until midnight on week-nights, and the lights were still on, not many people were inside. Reed went in and checked, thinking one of them might be Karen, seeking refuge from the terrible weather, but there was no tall, thin, blonde girl in a purple raincoat.
By eleven-fifteen, she still hadn’t arrived.
This is ridiculous, Reed thought, annoyed. I’m standing out here freezing my buns off for some girl I don’t even really want to talk to. She’s going to tell me things about McCoy that I don’t want to hear. I’m going back to my room, where it’s warm.
But then Reed hesitated. Karen Overmeyer was coming all this way. Maybe the bus was late because of the sleet-slickened roads.
Ten more minutes. Reed would give her that much and no more. To make the time pass more quickly, Reed walked up to the end of the sidewalk to watch for the bus.
