by R. L. Stine
“Ssh. We’ve got to be ready,” Gary said, ignoring her and positioning the camera. “The instant he knocks, Della, pull open the door. You’ve got to be fast or we’ll miss him.”
“But how—” Della started to say.
But before she could finish her question, they all heard a loud knock on the door.
Della jumped in astonishment. Time seemed to freeze.
Her breath seemed to freeze.
Everyone in the hallway seemed to freeze.
The knock was repeated.
Somehow she got herself breathing again. Somehow she got her brain to work, her arm to move. Somehow she turned the lock and, with one swift motion, pulled the door open wide.
Gary stepped forward and clicked the camera. The flash sent a burst of white light through the hallway and out onto the porch.
CHAPTER 10
The flash of light revealed movement, a face, a blur of hair, dark clothes. It was a man. He disappeared as quickly as the light.
He leaped off the side of the porch. Della heard him hit the bushes and keep moving.
He must be around the side of the house by now, she thought.
The surprise of it, the fact that some stranger really was on the porch, froze both Della and Gary. It was almost as if they had been caught by the camera and frozen on film.
By the time they pushed open the screen door and peered out, there was no sign of anyone.
“The film. The picture. Look. It’s developing.” Gary’s hand was trembling as he held the Polaroid picture and watched the colors darken.
Maia, Suki, and Ricky were standing behind them now. All of them stared in silence as the picture sharpened and filled in.
“Nice shot of the screen door,” Ricky said, shaking his head.
The screen door looked shiny and silvery in the photo. Beyond it was only darkness, not even the blur of the man moving off the porch.
“We didn’t get him,” Della said.
“Back to the drawing board,” Gary muttered, disappointed.
Someone stepped suddenly onto the porch.
Oh no! We didn’t close the door! Della thought. He’s circled the house and come back!
She grabbed the door and started to slam it.
“Hey—what’s the big idea?!” the shadowy figure on the porch screamed.
“Pete!” everyone cried, very relieved.
Pete looked confused. “Sorry I’m late. Nice of you to all come to the door to greet me. I see the party’s going full swing.”
“It hasn’t been much of a party,” Della said with a sigh. “We’ve had a visitor.” She reached past him to lock the door. “Did you see anyone out there?”
“No. No one.” Pete stared at the camera. “Taking pictures?”
“Yeah. We’re starting a family album,” Ricky quipped.
“Count me out. I don’t want Schorr in my family!” Suki said.
Maia headed back into the living room and slumped down in the armchair, looking more glum than ever. “Can I go now?” she groaned.
“Guess it isn’t much of a party,” Pete agreed as the rest of them trooped after her.
Maia made a face. “I’m leaving,” she said. But she made no attempt to get up from the chair.
“Wait, Maia,” Pete said. “I brought something. I think you’ll want to see it.”
He pulled a folded-up newspaper clipping out of the pocket of his chinos and spread it out on the coffee table. Everyone gathered around to look at it.
It was from the Shadyside Beacon. The headline read:
NEIGHBORS WITNESS BURGLARY,
FATAL SHOOTING
A smaller headline underneath read:
POLICE HUNT TWO MEN IN KILLING
“Read it out loud,” Suki said to Pete.
“That’s because she can’t read,” Ricky cracked. Suki gave him a hard poke in the stomach with her elbow.
“You read it, Della,” Pete said, handing the clipping to her. “I still have a big, flashing light in my eyes.”
The news story reported that neighbors had seen two young men break into a local gardener’s home. There were gunshots, the witnesses said, then the two men ran out of the house, empty-handed.
The gardener was found shot dead inside his house. Rumored to be an eccentric millionaire, he had supposedly hidden a fortune in cash in his small cottage—the goal of the intruders, police guessed. When the burglars didn’t find the money, the police continued, they must have attacked the gardener and killed him.
The two men were still at large, the article concluded, and finding them was the number-one priority of the police. A neighbor had gotten a good look as they fled. The police sketch of the burglar was beside the article.
“Oh no! Look at the face!” Della cried, holding the clipping up so everyone could see it.
It was the man on Fear Island, the man she had buried in the ravine.
“So he was a killer,” Suki said, taking the clipping, staring at the sketch as if memorizing it, then passing it back to Della. “So we don’t have to feel so bad.”
“He said something to me about an old man,” Della said, suddenly remembering. “He started talking really fast, really crazy, and he said something about not being able to communicate with an old man, having to teach him a lesson or something. It didn’t make any sense at the time. I was so frightened, I really couldn’t hear what he was saying.”
“Well, now we know who he is,” Pete said, folding up the clipping and shoving it back into his pocket, “and we know who watched us bury him in the leaves. And we know who left the silver skull for Della. It’s his partner.”
His partner.
So that was the explanation, Della thought. The young man wasn’t alone in the woods. He and his partner must have been hiding out there. Who would think of looking for them on that uninhabited island?
And the partner had been hiding in the woods on the edge of the ravine. The partner saw everything.
“What do you think this guy wants?” Maia asked softly.
They had all become very quiet as they thought about the news Pete had brought. They realized their secret was not entirely secret anymore. Someone else was in on it, someone who had murdered an old man. Someone who knew where Gary and Della lived. Someone who had been right outside the door.
“He obviously doesn’t want to thank us,” Suki said dryly.
“Maybe he wants revenge,” Ricky suggested.
Everyone looked at Ricky, as if to make sure he was serious. He was.
A feeling of gloom settled over the room. No one said anything for a while.
“Which is worse—having him want to blackmail us or having him want revenge?” Gary asked, breaking the silence.
“How could he blackmail us?” Maia asked. Her face was red. She looked as if she were about to start crying.
“Not us. Our parents,” Pete said, looking at the floor. “They didn’t get anything from that robbery. The partner probably sees us as a way to cash in.”
“Most of our parents are pretty well off,” Gary said.
“Speak for yourself. Mine don’t have a dime,” Suki snapped with some bitterness.
Gary ignored her. “This partner could tell our parents everything. He could threaten to expose us to the police if our parents don’t come up with big money.”
“No! That’s impossible! That’s horrible!” Maia cried.
“Whoa. Hold it a minute,” Della said, jumping up from the piano bench where she’d been thinking about all this in silence. “That doesn’t make any sense at all.”
“Nothing makes sense,” Suki muttered.
“This partner—he can’t go to the police. He killed an old man, remember?” Della said.
“Della’s right,” Maia broke in, sounding a little relieved.
“He can’t go walking into the police station and tell the cops he saw us kill his partner.”
“The police would probably thank us, anyway,” Ricky said, brightening. “They’d probab
ly give us a reward or something.”
“That’s not true,” Della said, shaking her head impatiently. “But there’s no way the partner is going to the police.”
“He could threaten to tip off the police. It would be easy for him just to phone them and tell them what he saw,” Pete said.
“He’s right,” Maia cried, horrified.
“So take your pick,” Della said mournfully. “Blackmail or revenge?”
“We’re dead meat either way,” Suki said glumly. “He could blackmail us for the rest of our lives.”
“We’d better call the police,” Gary said firmly.
“The police won’t be able to protect you and Della,” Maia argued.
“Oh, Maia—stop thinking about yourself for once!” Della exploded, finally losing her patience. “You’re only worried about your parents finding out that you went on the overnight without a chaperone. You don’t care what happens to the rest of us!”
Maia’s mouth dropped open and her face turned as red as a tomato. Della immediately regretted blowing up at her friend. Now she’d be spending months apologizing to her. And what had she accomplished by yelling like that? Nothing at all. She wasn’t going to change Maia.
“That’s not true!” Maia protested. “I just… I just… Okay. I won’t say another word.” She crossed her arms defiantly in front of her and glared furiously at Della.
“But Maia’s right,” Pete said suddenly, looking at Della. “What are the police going to do to protect you—to protect any of us—from this creep? Nothing. Are they going to put a full-time guard around your house? Or escort you to school and back? No way.”
“With our help, the police might be able to catch the partner,” Della said.
“When?” Ricky broke in. “After we’re all murdered in our sleep?”
“Stop it! Don’t say that!” Maia screamed.
“Please—we’re all getting hysterical,” Suki said. “We’ve got to chill out. So far, all the guy has done is—”
She stopped when she heard the knock on the front door.
They all froze. Maia let out a little cry and sank deep into the armchair. Della looked to the front door as if waiting for someone to come bursting in.
“I, I left the camera on the stairway,” Gary said in a loud whisper.
“I’m not going to answer it,” Della whispered. “I don’t think we should answer it.”
No one agreed or disagreed. They were all staring toward the front hallway in frightened silence.
Another knock, this time longer and louder.
“Why is he doing this?” Maia cried.
“Come on, let’s answer it,” Gary said, moving toward the door. “There won’t be anyone there anyway.”
“No, Gary—” Della started.
But he had made up his mind. He jogged to the front entrance, hesitated for a second, then put his face close to the door and yelled, “Who is it?”
There was a brief silence. And then a man on the other side of the door said, “We’re back!”
CHAPTER 11
Gary looked confused for a second. Then he turned the lock and pulled open the front door.
Della’s mother and a tall, bald man walked in.
“Oh, hi, Gary. What a nice surprise,” Mrs. O’Connor said, looking a bit startled. “This is Mr. Garrison. He walked me home.”
“Your mother forgot her house key,” Mr. Garrison explained to Della.
Mrs. O’Connor poked her head into the living room and was further startled to see that Della had even more visitors. “Della—a party on a school night?”
Some party, Della thought. “What are you doing here?” she blurted out. “I mean, why are you back so early?”
“No one was much in the mood for bridge tonight. So we decided to break up early,” Mrs. O’Connor said. “What’s going on here?” she asked, tossing her pocketbook down on a side table and striding into the center of the room.
“Mom, I’d like you to meet the members of the Outdoors Club,” Della said, regaining her composure. She introduced everyone to her mother.
“I like your hair,” Mrs. O’Connor said to Suki. “How do you get it to stand up like that?”
“I use a gel,” Suki said, trying to figure out if Della’s mom was putting her on or not.
“It’s very… what do they call it? Very… rad,” Mrs. O’Connor said.
Ricky started to laugh, then quickly stopped.
“No, I really do like it,” Mrs. O’Connor insisted. “Of course, if Della did that to her hair, I’d murder her!”
“Mom, please…” Della interrupted.
“And why the special club meeting?” Mrs. O’Connor asked, ignoring her daughter’s protest.
“Oh… we were just talking about the overnight,” Della answered, thinking quickly.
“I hear it was a great success,” Mrs. O’Connor said, straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table. She never could just stand and talk. She always had to be doing something useful at the same time.
“Oh, yes. Great,” Gary said.
“It was rad,” Ricky added. No one laughed. If Mrs. O’Connor realized that he was making fun of her, she didn’t let on.
“We were just finishing, actually,” Della said, looking at the others to make sure they understood it was time to leave.
“Yes. Meeting adjourned,” Gary said. He smiled at Mrs. O’Connor. “I’m the president. If I didn’t say that, they couldn’t go home.”
Della’s mother laughed her high-pitched laugh. “It’s so nice to see you, Gary,” she said. “We’ve missed you around here.”
Gary turned bright red and looked very embarrassed. Della would have enjoyed his discomfort, except that she felt equally embarrassed.
Everyone said good-bye and walked out into the night, except for Pete, who lingered uncomfortably in the doorway. “Uh… Della… can I talk to you for a minute?”
“Sure,” Della said, wondering why he looked so nervous. Was he afraid to go outside because the dead man’s partner might be lurking out there? No. She hoped he didn’t want to talk more about the partner and everything else, not with her mom so near.
“I was wondering…” he said, leading her out onto the front porch for privacy, “if maybe… you’d like to go out with me Friday night?”
“Oh.” It wasn’t at all what she had expected. She took a deep breath. The air felt cool and sweet. She could smell the apple blossoms from the tree across the driveway. “Yes. Okay.” She smiled at him. “Sounds okay.”
He smiled back. “I’ll pick you up after eight, okay? Maybe we’ll go to a movie. Or maybe to The Mill.”
“Fine.”
The ancient, collapsing mill, built at the end of Old Mill Road before the town of Shadyside even existed, had recently been resurrected and reopened as a teen dance club called The Mill. A lot of Della’s friends from Shadyside High went there just about every weekend to dance and meet guys. But she had a hard time picturing Pete there in his crisply pleated chinos and Ralph Lauren polo shirts.
Maybe he isn’t such a stiff after all, she thought, watching him head down the driveway to his station wagon. He’s been so sweet to me. Maybe he’s just what I need to help me forget about Gary.
She shivered suddenly, remembering that someone might be out there. Someone might be hiding in the darkness, staring at her, watching her right now, plotting against her, hating her.
Still shivering, she turned and bolted into the house, slamming the door loudly behind her, so loudly that dogs began barking and howling all down the block.
* * *
“I can’t believe I’m having such a great time!” Della said to herself. It was Friday night, and she and Pete had already been dancing at The Mill for more than an hour. She laughed and slapped him playfully on the shoulder as he attempted a ridiculous dance maneuver on one leg.
Actually, Pete wasn’t a good dancer. In fact, he had no sense of rhythm at all. But at least he tried. He even made jokes a
bout his dancing. I never even knew he had a sense of humor, Della thought, scolding herself for having such a wrong impression of him.
The club was hot and crowded. Teenagers packed the dance floor, bumping into each other as they moved to the deafening music, the insistent drums pounding out a steady rhythm through the massive speakers suspended in every corner of the huge room. Swirling blue and magenta lights made it seem as if the floor were spinning. Crowds of kids watched the dancers from the refreshment bar that ran the entire length of the building, or from the low balcony that overhung the dance floor.
Della and Pete danced nonstop. It was far too noisy to talk. A little after midnight she pulled him out into the parking lot. “Enough! I’m totally wrecked!” she cried happily.
He laughed. Even though it was a warm night, the air felt cool against their hot faces. When she looked up at the sky, Della could still see the swirling colors of the lights. The pounding rhythm floated out from the dance club, drums and bass guitar driving to the same beat as her heart.
“Want to get something to eat?” he asked.
“I don’t know. It’s so late.” She knew she should be tired, but she felt just the opposite, keyed up, eager to keep moving, totally wired.
“Let’s go get a hamburger,” he said, pulling her by the hand. His own hand was hot and wet.
She pulled back suddenly, catching him off guard, and he stumbled close. Impulsively, she reached her hand up behind his neck, held him, and gave him a long kiss.
When she backed away, he looked stunned.
“That was a good-night kiss,” she said, laughing at his shocked expression. “I just wanted to get it over with. Now let’s go get a hamburger.”
They climbed into the front of the station wagon and immediately rolled down the windows, trying to cool off. Pete backed out of the parking space and headed out of the still-crowded parking lot.
Another car, its brights on, followed close behind. Pete pulled out onto Old Mill Road, squinting into the mirror. “Wish he’d turn his brights off,” he muttered.
The road was empty, nothing but darkness up ahead as far as Della could see. There wasn’t much reason to drive on this far edge of town so late at night unless you were on the way to or from The Mill.