Boardwalk Cottage

by Barbara Cool Lee

  The second time through she saw the connection. 1927, the amusement park opened. 1933, 1941, 1945, 1947, 1951, 1952. Each page referred to some update in the amusement park. 1933, the earthquake damaged some items, and a band organ, carousel horse, and three game booths were put into storage after they were broken. 1941, the King Kong was replaced with one with moving parts. 1945, the original haunted castle ride was remodeled as the Boardwalk Cottage haunted house, capitalizing on the fame of the little cottages in the village. 1947, bumper cars were replaced and the old ones put in the attic of the cottage. 1951, several rides were replaced, and the old ones were put in storage in the big box under the roller coaster, and in the attic and cellar of the haunted house.

  Windy was marking the pages where changes were made to the amusement park.

  No, more than that, all the changes were related to the haunted house in some way. Storing items there, remodeling the building, more storing of outdated items.

  She flipped through it again. Why had Windy cared about that particular building so much. It was just a silly-looking ride, outdated, like the items that were stored in the attic….

  Wait a minute. Hallie went back to the 1951 entry. Items were stored in the attic and cellar of the haunted house.

  "The cellar of the haunted house!" She picked up the phone to call Kyle. She called him, but the phone just rang and then went to voicemail. Oh no. If he was missing, too, that was just too much.

  She heard a door open and close downstairs. She flew down the stairs. "Kyle!"

  At the bottom of the stairs she almost ran smack into Chris coming up. "It's just me, Hallie."

  "How'd you get here?"

  "The park's closed. I got a ride back with Steve—he works at the carousel."

  Hallie's shoulders slumped. "Then Kyle isn't with you?"

  "No. He said he wanted to stay a bit later to do some more looking around."

  "You mean you talked to him?"

  "Of course. He was checking up on me every ten minutes—you know how he is." Chris went past her and up the stairs. "I'm getting out of these clothes."

  "Wait, Chris."

  He stopped, and looked down at her from a spot directly under the Arturo Madrigal painting. "Yeah?"

  What could she say? If she told him about their suspicions about Tom, Kyle would never forgive her for turning him against his uncle. And about the cellar under the haunted house?

  He was still looking at her, waiting.

  "Um," she said. "Never mind."

  He went on up the stairs with a shrug, and she stood in the living room, thinking hard. Okay, she couldn't tell Chris what she knew. If she was wrong, she'd be causing a rift in the family that might never heal.

  She couldn't call the police until Kyle got back. Same reason.

  And Kyle wouldn't be back until he'd confronted Tom.

  There was just one thing to do.

  "Chris!"

  He came pounding down the stairs no louder than a herd of elephants. "Yeah?"

  "I've got to meet Kyle at the park. Take the phone." She handed the house phone to him.

  The keys to the Little Guy were hanging on their pink keychain by the front door. She grabbed them, then turned back to Chris, who stood there in the middle of the living room holding the phone.

  "If I'm not back in an hour, call Joe Serrano."

  He started to ask something, but she stopped him. "Tell him Kyle and I are at the amusement park, and to send someone out there. But only if I don't get in touch in an hour. Got it?"

  "Got it."

  The Bug started on the first try, which was more than it used to do on cold winter mornings in Davis, and Hallie patted it appreciatively on the dashboard. She headed down the mountain toward town, and Kyle.

  When she arrived at the park she ran into a problem. A gate had been pulled across the road leading to the employee parking lot. Hallie turned on the interior lights in the car to see the time on the little stick-on clock Windy had attached to the dashboard. Midnight. She got out and peered through the bars of the gate. The fog was thick, and she couldn't see much, but the parking lot seemed to be just about empty. She didn't see Kyle's truck.

  Well, there wasn't anything she could do. She got back in the car, backed up and turned around in the road, then drove back the way she'd come and found a place to park down by the wharf. The street was empty, and the wharf was a silent ribbon of light disappearing into the foggy bay.

  She walked back to the employee gate along the empty street.

  When she got within sight of the employee entrance she saw a delivery van stopped in front of the gate. Mama Thu's 100% Organic Vegetarian Hot Dogs was painted on the side of the van. The driver got out, went up to the gate and pulled it open, then got back in and drove through. She started to run, waving her arm to try to get the driver's attention. Once he'd passed the gate, he got back out of his van and closed the gate behind him, then drove off along the service road.

  She stopped in front of the gate, out of breath, and watched the red tail lights of the van fade into the mist. She put her hands up on the bars of the gate.

  The gate rattled. She pulled on it again, and it moved easily under her hands, sliding open a couple of feet. Luck was on her side. The driver must have just pulled it shut without locking it, figuring he was coming back this way once he'd finished making his delivery.

  Hallie pulled the gate open enough to slip through, then shut it again.

  "Okay, Einstein, now that you're inside, where are you going to start?" she whispered. She saw a few dark shapes of cars in the foggy parking lot ahead, and went to investigate. Sure enough, one of the few was Kyle's red pickup truck. She put a hand on the hood, and left a palm print in the wet drops covering the glossy red paint. Kyle had been parked here long enough for the truck to become covered in a layer of mist. So where was he?

  She looked around at the colorful buildings all shrouded by fog. How was she going to find him? She headed toward the blue-and-white striped carousel building that held Tom's office.

  There were outside lights all along the row of buildings next to the parking lot, but they didn't pierce through to the ground below. Instead the light was reflected by the fog itself, turning it into a swirling silvery mist. Hallie shivered as she walked through it.

  She reached the door of the building. The door was propped open, and the lights were on inside. Okay. What could she say to Tom? Hi, Tom. Have you seen Kyle? He's going to have you arrested because he thinks you murdered his parents. She shook her head. "Now what?" she said aloud.

  "Shhh!" a voice hissed behind her.

  Hallie jumped, then turned around, fists up, ready to fight.

  "It's just me," Kyle whispered. He pulled her close.

  His body was a warm haven from the fog. She burrowed her face into the fold of his jacket. It felt good after the chill of the night air.

  Then she pulled away. They didn't have time for this.

  "Kyle! I have to tell you something!"

  Kyle put a finger to his lips. "Shhh!" He took a step out from the building and looked up at the second floor window. Hallie could see a yellow glow through the window, and a dark shadow moved across the light. Kyle turned back to Hallie. "Why are you here anyway?—not that I mind, but I didn't expect anybody to be tailing me while I'm tailing Tom."

  "I tried to call you, but you didn't pick up."

  "I left my phone in the barn when we were talking earlier. What did you call me about?"

  Hallie quickly told him what she'd figured out about the storage area below the haunted house.

  Kyle breathed a big sigh. "Well, there's the big fat clue we've been looking for, but it doesn't make much sense."

  "Could Windy and Zac be down there?"

  "We'll find out soon enough," Kyle said softly. "I think—." He abruptly grabbed Hallie by the arm and pulled her back into the shadow of the building.

  "What the—?" Hallie whispered.

  "Shhh!" he said, and pointed to
the upstairs window in the wall above them. The light had gone out.

  They heard a door close upstairs, then heavy footsteps on the stairs.

  "Come on, let's get away from here," Kyle whispered. "I don't want Tom to see us." They walked quickly toward the truck in the parking lot.

  "If he asks, we'll just say I was late picking Chris up," Kyle said softly when they had gotten a little farther away. Hallie nodded.

  They got to the truck and Kyle unlocked the doors.

  "But what about the cellar?" she asked. "You can't be thinking of just leaving here without checking for them?"

  She glanced at Kyle to see his reaction. He wasn't even paying attention to her. He seemed to be studiously examining the paint job on his truck's side mirror.

  "How can you worry about your paint job at a time like this?"

  "Tom's up to something," he whispered. She saw the tension in him again. "He didn't come this way."

  She turned to look back at the carousel building. "I don't see him."

  "I was watching him in the truck's mirror, all ready with my cover story. But he didn't come toward the parking lot."

  "Then where did he go?"

  "I'm not sure. He came out the door, but then he stopped and took off down the service road along the back of the buildings."

  "Maybe he parked his car over there," she said.

  Kyle shook his head. "Nope." He pointed to a sedan sitting a couple rows away from them. "That's his car." He handed her the keys to the truck. "You wait here. I want to see which way he went."

  "But shouldn't we go to the haunted house and look for the kids?"

  "We still don't know if Tom's involved. I have to find out."

  She started to protest, but he stopped her. "Wait here, I don't want to lose him in the dark." He took off toward the buildings.

  She stood next to the truck, holding the keys, then set off after him. "I'm coming too," she whispered when she caught up.

  Kyle sighed. "I don't have time to argue," he whispered. "But if there's any trouble, you take off running, you understand?"

  She crossed her heart in a silent gesture and he nodded. "Come on."

  They ducked into the shadow under the overhang of the buildings and walked along in the direction Tom had gone. Their sneakers made a soft pat-pat on the pavement as they walked. Around them the fog was thick, and they couldn't see far ahead of them.

  They came to a stop at a closed door. "Bumper car building," Kyle whispered. He tried the doorknob. "Locked," he muttered. "I should have brought my keys."

  Hallie looked around. "Where did Tom go?"

  Kyle shrugged his shoulders. They stood in the damp mist, listening. Hallie strained her ears for any sound of footsteps. The night was quiet. Far off, she heard the sound of a foghorn, and somewhere closer, she heard water dripping.

  "Maybe he left," she whispered.

  Kyle touched her arm, and pointed further down the road. She looked where he had pointed, and at first saw nothing but more gray, but then she saw an orange pinpoint of light. A second later, the light went out again.

  They set off that way, keeping in the shadow of the buildings and padding along as softly as they could. When they got closer, they could see a van parked in front of one of the buildings, facing away from them. Two people stood talking in back of it. One of the people, bundled up in a heavy jacket, was smoking a cigarette. The person dropped the cigarette to the ground, crushed it under one boot, then immediately pulled another one out and lit it with a quick orange flash from a lighter. The two moved away from them toward the front of the van, still talking.

  Hallie and Kyle hugged against the side of the building and stood still. Hallie pulled on Kyle's sleeve, and he bent his head down to her. "It's just a delivery van," she whispered. "I saw him drive in earlier." She motioned that they should go back the way they had come, but Kyle shook his head.

  "We don't accept deliveries at midnight," Kyle whispered. "And Mama Thu doesn't sell her hot dogs in the haunted house."

  Hallie's eyes widened. She looked up the side of the building above them. Sure enough, she could make out the shape of the gabled roofline overhead. The haunted house. She thought of the man who'd lurked in the darkness, waiting to choke the life out of her. She shuddered and moved closer to Kyle.

  "I want to hear what they're saying," he whispered in her ear. He started to quietly move closer to the two, and Hallie held his hand and followed in his shadow. She could feel her hands trembling the closer they got. Kyle stopped, and Hallie peeked furtively around him to see. The two people were only a dozen feet away from them, easy to see now because they stood in the light of the delivery van's headlights while they talked.

  "What?" Hallie whispered. The chain smoker was Charlie Greer, her red hair looking burnished in the headlights, her face washed out, ashen with worry. The man talking to Charlie had his back to them, but Tom's gruff, weary voice was unmistakable. Hallie glanced at Kyle, but they couldn't possibly be seen. They were hidden in the shadow cast by the haunted house's gabled roof. Anyway, the two were busy talking and not looking around them at all.

  "I'm not doing anything," she heard Charlie say. "I just decided to have a smoke when I got off work. There's no law against it. Why don't you just go home?" There was a plea in Charlie's voice.

  "That's a pretty ridiculous story," Tom said. His voice had that same tone of belligerent impatience he'd used on Hallie. "Everybody else is long gone by now. You're not authorized to be in here after closing and you know it. What are you really doing here, and where's the driver of this van?"

  "I don't know, I'm sorry. I don't want any trouble." The pitch of Charlie's voice was getting higher and louder, and Hallie could hear that nervous, placating tone she'd always hated when she found herself using it to try to turn aside David's anger. She wondered all of a sudden what kind of a man Charlie's husband was. Charlie was pleading with Tom again, fidgeting like a nervous little mouse. That description would have applied to her when she was married to Dave.

  "Why are you lying?" Tom said gruffly. "I want to know what's going on here. Where's the driver of this van?"

  "I don't know, I don't know," Charlie whined.

  Charlie lit yet another cigarette with a stiff, nervous gesture. She lowered her voice and began to talk softly to Tom. Even though Hallie couldn't make out the words, there was no mistaking the pleading and cajoling in Charlie's voice.

  Tom waved his hand in Charlie's face. "We'll see what the cops have to say about that," Tom said, and he grabbed Charlie by the arm.

  Suddenly Kyle pushed Hallie flat against the wall of the haunted house.

  Something had moved in a dark gap in the wall only a few feet away from them. Hallie saw a flash of silver, and then the figure of a man stepped silently out of the shadow and stood in the path behind Tom's back. Hallie and Kyle held their breaths.

  It was the guy from the hot dog stand who'd flirted with her the first day she'd arrived. JJ, he'd called himself. He wasn't wearing tie-dye now, but black jeans and sweater that made him almost invisible in the darkness. And his face...

  All the flirtatiousness was gone. He looked cold, calculating. This guy was no charmer. She knew immediately what kind of a man he was. He was the kind of guy who had turned Charlie into a terrified mouse. Hallie recognized it now—all Charlie's nervous mannerisms, her fast talking and appeasing tone. Julian, Charlie'd called her husband. Julian Greer was the kind of guy Hallie herself had mistakenly married before she saw what lurked behind the easy charm.

  Charlie saw the man, and her eyes widened, but she said nothing. Tom hauled on her arm. "You're coming with me," he said. "You're up to something. If you know where those kids are, you'd better tell me now, or so help me, I'll—"

  "I don't think so," JJ said, and Tom turned around, letting go of Charlie's arm.

  "What the...?" Tom said, and then he gasped.

  "Don't move," the man said. He motioned with one arm, and Hallie saw the flash of silver aga
in. Tom silently put his hands up, and Hallie felt her breath catch in her throat. She felt Kyle press her back harder against the wall, as if he wanted to push her through it and out of harm's way.

  Tom backed away from the man until he came up against the front of the van. He stood poised there between the headlights, arms raised, fear and confusion playing across his face. Hallie heard a sharp intake of breath from Kyle, and she could feel his body tense, as if he wanted to spring forward to tackle the man. But the man had a gun. Hallie put her hands on Kyle's arm, silently pleading with him.

  At the same time, Charlie took the man by the arm. "Please, Julian," she said. "You promised." Julian took a step back and brushed her arm away like a dog brushing off a flea. "Please, honey," she begged. "You don't have to hurt him. It'll be just like Zac and Windy. You can use him, too. No one has to get hurt."

  Kyle gripped Hallie's arm. Zac and Windy. They used the kids for something. But what?

  Julian chuckled. It sent a chill up Hallie's spine. "Don't be stupid, baby." He raised his hand toward Tom again, and Hallie saw the silver gun clearly, silhouetted against the headlights.

  Charlie moaned, a lost, mournful sound.

  Unconsciously, Hallie echoed her moan as a soft sigh of terror escaped her lips. Kyle grabbed her fiercely by the arm and pulled her along the wall. Charlie and Julian didn't glance their way.

  But Tom did. They froze where they were in the shadow as Tom's eyes fixed on them, widened in horror.

  Julian turned his head to see what Tom was looking at, and as Julian turned away, Tom leaped for him. "No!" Tom shouted.

  Julian's head instantly snapped back around to face Tom.

  At the same moment, Kyle grabbed Hallie around the chest, clapped a hand over her mouth, and pulled her backwards.

  A bang like a firecracker echoed in her ears as she and Kyle plunged into a dark gap in the wall.

  Chapter Nine

  Kyle took his hand away from Hallie's mouth. "Quiet," he whispered in her ear, giving her a shake on the shoulder for emphasis. To Kyle it seemed like Hallie's breathing echoed through the haunted house, although he figured her breathing was no louder than his own. They were in pitch blackness, but he could feel Hallie's body trembling as she pressed against him.