"Yes. In her room."
"I'll just go up then. Second room on the left, right?"
She dashed up the steps, Blaine trotting behind her. She really shouldn't have come here, she thought. Clearly her visit annoyed Mrs. Collins, and even though Paige didn't have a set bedtime, she was probably getting sleepy by now.
A guitar lesson might simply be disruptive. She'd been thinking of herself when she came, not what was best for Paige. Maybe she wouldn't be any better at mothering than Kira had been. She'd make the guitar lesson short.
Natalie tapped lightly on the closed bedroom door. Her knock went unanswered. She tapped again. Nothing. Could the child already be asleep?
She turned the knob slowly and swung open the door. A small lamp glowed on the nightstand providing the light Natalie had seen from outside. A flowered quilt stretched over a small form whose auburn hair spread across a pillow. A pair of luminous green eyes stared from atop the chest of drawers. Ripley.
Something didn't feel right. Didn't Nick say Paige didn't go to bed early? And hadn't Paige told her that Ripley always slept on the bed with her? Maybe the cat left the bed after Paige went to sleep and she never knew it. Or maybe he was spooked by Blaine and had jumped to the safety of a high place. But he didn't look scared. And the auburn hair on the pillow had the metallic sheen of artificial hair. She walked over and pulled down the quilt.
Mrs. Collins had followed her up the stairs. "A doll!" she screeched as if saying, "A body!" Ripley stiffened, his tail snapping around to firmly cover his paws. Natalie walked to the window, which was raised. An arm's length away hung the sturdy limb of an oak tree. "Looks like Paige has escaped."
"Oh, my! Oh, Lord! Oh, gracious! Heaven help me!" Mrs. Collins bleated. "This is not my fault! It's not my fault! It is not my fault!"
"You were supposed to be watching her," Natalie said harshly, galled by the woman's concern for herself rather than the missing child. "How long has she been gone?"
"I have no idea." She met Natalie's incensed stare. "Well, I can't keep my eyes on her every minute!"
"Especially when you're spending all your time on the phone."
"I wasn't on the phone!"
"I tried to call twice before I came by. The line was busy and clearly Paige wasn't tying it up because she wasn't here. Now when was the last time you saw her?"
Mrs. Collins threw her a venomous look before her eyes filled with tears. "You're right. I was on the phone much too long. I just never thought she'd do anything like this."
"I understand," Natalie said in a milder tone. Soothing the woman was necessary to make her concentrate on what was important. "Calm down and try to remember when you saw her."
Mrs. Collins took a deep breath. "All right. Let's see. We ate dinner at six. She went up to her room for a while, then she came back down and watched something on television. I don't remember what. Then she went back up. That must have been around seven-thirty."
Natalie glanced at her watch. "It's 8:48. Over an hour unaccounted for, but I'll bet she didn't scoot out that window until nearly dark. It's been dreary all day, darker than usual…" Mrs. Collins nodded in vigorous agreement. "Do you have any idea where she might have gone?"
"The Jenkins house?"
They looked up the number and called. A harried Beth Jenkins told Natalie she hadn't seen Paige for days. Was Jimmy home? Natalie asked. Beth dispatched her husband for a five-minute search that included a few gusty bellows of "Jimmy, where the hell are you?" Another child wailed in the background. They couldn't find Jimmy, Beth finally said. It was summer and he was always running around, but she was sure it wouldn't be after dark with a little girl. After all, Jimmy wasn't some kind of pervert. Is that what Sheriff Meredith thought?
Natalie assured her Sheriff Meredith liked Jimmy. She liked Jimmy. Jimmy was a fine boy. Natalie grimaced as she spent more time reassuring than gleaning information. When she hung up, she checked the time again. Nine. Far too late for Paige to be wandering around without adult supervision. "I'm going to look for her," she told Mrs. Collins. "You call Nick and tell him she's gone."
The woman shrank. "Oh, no! I don't think we have to tell him yet. She could walk in that door any minute."
"Or she could not walk in all night, and then what would the sheriff do if no one had told him his daughter was missing?" Natalie asked severely. "You must call him. Now."
The woman sighed shakily and plodded toward the bedroom extension as if headed for the guillotine. Natalie looked around Paige's room, then picked up an errant sock peeking from beneath the bed. Mrs. Collins was meekly asking to speak with the sheriff as Natalie left the room with the sock in one hand and the dog's leash in the other.
Natalie sat in her parked car, her hands on the steering wheel as she stared ahead, thinking. "Where would an eleven-year-old girl go on a summer night?" she asked Blaine. "Lily and I used to walk on the shore and go sit in The Blue Lady. A big, deserted place. Very daring of us, we thought." But The Blue Lady was three miles from the Meredith house. Quite a distance to cover on foot or a bike. And Paige was probably with Jimmy. No doubt because she was the relative newcomer to the town, he'd taken her somewhere familiar to him. But where would that be?
Natalie closed her eyes to concentrate. Where did Jimmy live? Across the street from Tamara. Natalie remembered the night she'd watched Jane Eyre with Paige. "Jimmy thinks Ariel Saunders's house is huge," she'd said, "but it's nothing compared to Thornfield Hall." Beside Tam's house ran Hyacinth Lane, which ended at the Saunders house. Paige had seen the house and Jimmy had been her guide.
"I'm having a brainstorm," she said to the dog as she turned the key in the ignition. "Ready for a trip to your old stomping ground?"
Blaine panted. Clearly a yes to her brilliant idea. Her only idea.
Natalie took a shortcut to Hyacinth Lane, one that cut the trip to less than half a mile and one she was sure Jimmy knew. She turned onto the lane, not looking at the darkened windows of Tam's house. Too depressing. Halfway up Hyacinth Lane the ruts and potholes threatened to knock the car out of alignment. She stopped. "Rest of the way on foot and paw, Blaine." She opened the glove compartment and withdrew a flashlight. Then she picked up Paige's small sock and held it under Blaine 's nose. The dog sniffed obediently and thoroughly. "Okay, girl, show me what a good tracker you are." Natalie said. "Find Paige."
She unhooked the leash and opened the car door. Blaine jumped out, looked around, then loped a few feet in the direction of the Saunders house before looking back at Natalie as if to say, "Well, come on!" Natalie followed, careful to act calm and be silent so she wouldn't distract the dog. Disappointed, she saw that Blaine did not sniff the ground. She acted as if this were merely a casual walk. Maybe it was useless. Perhaps the dog did not track. Perhaps Paige had not been on Hyacinth Lane.
Natalie caught up with Blaine and held the sock under her nose again. She sniffed. She looked around. She ambled forward. Then, abruptly, she dipped her head, touching her nose to a fallen leaf. Her ears perked up and she galloped forward.
Natalie picked up her pace. The gloom of the day lingered, dulling the night. A weak moon cast murky light on the rutted lane being strangled by flourishing honeysuckle vines and multiflora roses. Chills rushed down her arms and she wished she'd remembered to put on a sweater as cool lake winds whispered through the trees.
But the whispering wind wasn't the only sound in the darkness. Natalie slowed, feeling as if her own ears were perking up like Blaine 's. Music. Not the slow, haunting music that would be in harmony with the somber evening. Loud, rollicking music, electric guitars blasting into the darkness, powerful male voices wailing a warning into the night:
Don't close your eyes, He's waiting for you…
"What on earth?" she muttered, listening as the music rose, shuddering through the woods. Two birds soared in tandem, startled from sleep, and something rustled in the brush to her right. Her gaze darted sideways, expecting to see an animal rushing toward her. Instead the
rustling moved in the opposite direction as she spotted moonlight shining on metal. She moved closer. Two bicycles. Her hunch had been right. Paige and Jimmy had gone to the Saunders house- the house from which rock music roared.
Natalie's breath came quick and shallow as she ran, keeping her gaze on the lane so she wouldn't step in a hole and twist her ankle. The dog raced ahead with enviable canine speed. She tried to search for possible explanations for the music, but nothing would come except the image of two faces-Paige's and Jimmy's, both bright-eyed, eager, and inquisitive. Maybe too inquisitive. Maybe fatally inquisitive.
No. She wouldn't think that way. She would concentrate on her breathing, her footing-
A high-pitched shriek froze her heart. She plunged forward, every ounce of her energy directed to her flight. Then she saw forms ahead on the lane. Blaine bouncing around excitedly. A boy saying, "It's just a dog, Paige! Come on!"
"Paige! Jimmy!" Natalie called breathlessly.
"Oh, no!" Natalie heard Paige exclaim.
"It's Natalie," she huffed. Blaine ran to her, then back to the children twenty feet away. "Are you all right?"
"Natalie?" Paige wavered. "Is my dad with you?"
"No." Natalie stopped in front of them. "I went by your house and you were missing. I came looking for you by myself. What are you doing here?"
"The killer is in the Saunders house!" Jimmy burst out. "We saw him before. It's a great hiding place. We came back tonight to get a picture. And we did!" He waved a rectangle of paper in front of Natalie. "Look!"
"The killer? A picture?" Natalie took the photo and flipped on her flashlight. She saw the blurred image of someone in a white robe. "What's he doing?"
"Dancing to that music! And it's a she. Real long blond hair."
"Long blond hair?" Natalie repeated. "Is she young-"
The booming music stopped so suddenly that all three jumped. The woods fell eerily silent. Paige tensed. "She's coming after us! She's gonna kill us!"
A scream ripped through the night. Not the shrill yelp of surprise Paige had emitted when Blaine had rushed toward her in the darkness. This scream vibrated with pure, depthless terror. Another followed, then another, each more shattering than the last.
Blaine barked. Paige clutched Natalie's arm. Even the indomitable Jimmy quailed.
"What's that?" Paige whimpered.
"Someone in bad trouble." Natalie looked at Jimmy. "Grab your bike, go home, and call the police. Take Paige with you."
"What about you?" Jimmy managed.
Another scream rent the night. "Just go! Wow!"
The children darted around her and pounded down the lane toward their bikes. Natalie hesitated. She should go with the children. Or stay where she was. God knew what was going on in that house.
Another chilling, agonized scream. Blaine barked frenziedly and lunged forward. Without thought, Natalie followed.
She hadn't realized how close she was to the house until within seconds its bulk loomed ahead of her. Flickering light spilled from the windows onto the ragged growth that had once been a lawn. Candlelight. No. The light didn't flicker, it leaped. Bigger flames than candles could create.
Blaine was ahead of her, running back and forth in front of the house, barking wildly. Natalie hesitated again as the shadow of the house fell over her. Then she thought of what the children had said. The killer was a she with long blond hair. Alison. She knew it. But there had been the screams and now the fire. What if Alison wasn't the killer but the victim?
The door of the house stood open. Natalie stepped cautiously into a musty hall. To her left was a darkened room. To her right light glimmered through the doorway of another room. She moved toward it, her heart thudding. A thin veil of smoke floated toward her, enough to sting her eyes and nose, not enough to make her cough. She put her hand over her nose, took a deep breath and held it. Then she crept into the room.
Candles everywhere. A body lying facedown on the floor, pale blond hair spilling around the head, flames eating at a long, white gown.
Natalie rushed forward, grabbing up a small rug as she assessed the extent of the fire. Not bad. She slapped the rug down on the burning edge of the robe. Once, twice, three times. Then the overturned candle beside the body, then the small pillow whose foam rubber stuffing puffed most of the smoke. The wooden floor below, dampened by long years of moist lake air and no heat, merely smoldered.
Natalie tossed the rug onto the wood and stepped on it a few times. Satisfied that she'd extinguished all of the minor fire, she pulled the body away from the scorched flooring, turned it over, and swept back the blond hair. Alison Cosgrove's eyes remained closed, her face deathly white, as blood oozed from the ugly gash on her delicate neck.
17
Sirens. Flashing lights. Police cars. An ambulance. Emergency technicians. Cops. A frantic, shouting Nick Meredith.
"Where is my daughter? Is she all right? What are you doing here, Natalie? Do you have a death wish or something?"
"Will you just calm down?" Natalie begged. "No one can tell you anything while you're standing here bellowing."
"Pardon me for raising my voice, but I want to know WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!"
Natalie flinched. "I will tell you what the hell is going on if you promise not to say one more word until I finish explaining." Nick glowered. "I mean it."
"All right," he ground out.
Natalie took a deep breath. "I stopped by your house. Paige was gone. I came looking for her-"
"I know that much. What I want to know is-"
"Nick, be quiet. You promised." He stared hard at her for a moment, then nodded. "Something Paige had said to me made me think she'd been to the Saunders house. When we got to Hyacinth Lane, Blaine started tracking her. We ran into her and Jimmy. They babbled something about the killer being in the house and showed me a picture. Then we heard screams. I sent the kids to Jimmy's and I came to the house."
"So Paige is at Jimmy's?"
"I'm sure Beth Jenkins wouldn't have let her leave."
Emergency technicians carried Alison from the house. She lay motionless, covered with a blanket and strapped to the gurney. An oxygen mask covered her face and an IV bag dangled above her head. "Is she alive?" Nick called.
"Yes. Barely. She's in shock. Only first-degree burns on her legs," one of the E.M.T.s answered. "The throat is another story. If she'd been found just five minutes later by someone who didn't know exactly how to apply pressure, she'd be gone."
Nick looked at Natalie. "You saved her life."
"You say that like an accusation."
"No. I just want to be mad at you, but how can I when you saved a life?"
"You can't and I'm freezing, so why don't we go to the Jenkins house, make sure Paige is safe, and find out what the kids saw?"
"It's not that cold. You're scared." Nick took off his jacket and handed it to her. "Hysell, you know what to do here," he called. Ted looked surprised, then immediately began bawling orders, even to people standing next to him.
Ten minutes later two wide-eyed children stood in front of the sheriff. Paige's freckles stood out against her milk white skin. Jimmy had lost most of his swagger. Nick had pulled himself up to his full six-feet-two, and even Beth Jenkins and her balding husband looked frightened. Blaine lying at her feet, Natalie let herself be swallowed by an overstuffed recliner. She still wore Nick's jacket and with both hands she held the hot mug of coffee Beth had shoved at her. as soon as she came in. Natalie felt oddly detached, almost as if she were floating high above the tableau. She did not let herself think about Alison.
Nick pinned the children with a dark blue glare. "I want to know what you two were doing at the Saunders house," he said in a deliberate, loud voice. "No lies, no evasions."
"I go over to the Saunders house all the time," Jimmy volunteered. "I'm allowed."
"Not at night. And not with a little girl," his father blustered. "What were you thinking? Are you out of your mind?"
Nick held up his
hand for silence. "Paige?"
"I… well… I wanted to see the house."
"But you sneaked out to do it," Nick said severely. "And this is not the first time."
"Well… no. I've been there once before."
"You sneaked out of your room and came with Jimmy."
"Yes," Paige said miserably.
"But Jimmy didn't force her to go, did you Jimmy?" Beth interrupted anxiously.
Nick looked at her. "I'm sure he didn't force her. He no doubt persuaded her. But I'm not putting the blame entirely on Jimmy. Paige knows better than to pull a stupid trick like this."
Paige's face went from white to crimson. Wretchedness shone in her beautiful eyes. Natalie knew the child had done wrong, but she empathized with her. She would have done the same thing at Paige's age. She probably had no influence with Nick Meredith, but she would try to make him see that under normal circumstances what Paige had done would not be the end of the world. Of course having a murderer on the loose wasn't a normal circumstance for Port Ariel, as Paige well knew. Calming down Nick would not be easy.
"We'll deal with the lectures and punishments later," Nick continued evenly, although Natalie expected any moment to see steam explode from his ears. "Right now I want to know everything you saw. Jimmy, you first."
"Yes, sir." Jimmy stepped forward, suddenly military in his bearing. "We arrived at the Saunders house at 8:25. I looked at my watch because we were doing something real important and I knew you'd want me to get everything right."
"You were going to tell me about this?" Nick asked incredulously.
"Oh, yes, sir. Well… not everything. I wasn't going to tell you about Paige being with me. See, I sort of made her go."
"Jimmy!" both elder Jenkinses barked as Paige threw him a grateful look.
"How did you make her?" Nick demanded.
"I kinda embarrassed her into it. I said she was too scared. A little girl. She hates that."
"Jimmy, you're never going to set foot outside this house again!" Beth began shrilly before she spotted another junior Jenkins peeking around the door facing and went after him, shouting.
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