OMG, A CUL8R Time Travel Mystery

by Kat, Bob

  “Three in less than ten minutes . . . I was on a roll.” He was clearly proud of the win.

  Kelly smiled. “Even though I wasn’t going there, my dad and I used to go to all of Friendswood High’s games. He taught me a lot. I can’t wait to see you play for real this fall.”

  “Real? This was real. That one guy slammed into my right side with his helmet. I think my ribs are cracked or something.”

  “Bad news, dude . . . your health insurance doesn’t work in 1966,” Scott said unsympathetically. “Of course, if you hadn’t been such a hot shot, you might not have taken that hit.”

  “I couldn’t throw the game.”

  “We were supposed to lose.”

  Austin flashed his irresistible crooked grin. “Yeah, but isn’t it cool that we won?”

  “You changed history.” Scott wasn’t willing to let it go.

  “Just a little.”

  “Oh, and now Zoey kept Wendy from getting in that truck. It’s almost midnight. Unless Wendy kills herself in the next hour or so, we’ve changed history big time.” Scott shook his head. “I just don’t know what sort of consequences that will have.”

  “But we saved a life,” Kelly offered, not seeing the downside.

  “It’s right . . . but it’s wrong,” Scott persisted.

  Austin groaned and pressed his hand to his side. “It hurts to breathe. I didn’t think I was going to make it through the dance.”

  “Maybe we can find a hardware store and get you some duct tape . . . what color do you want? Oh wait . . . it’s 1966,” Scott reminded him sarcastically. “They probably only have silver.”

  “I’ll take silver,” Austin muttered, knowing there was no chance they were actually going to go to the hardware store tonight. Besides it was closed. He looked at his watch. “So, what’s the plan?”

  “Everything should be under control with Zoey spending the night with Wendy. What could go wrong?”

  “Then we’re going back to the room? I need to lie down,” Austin said.

  “No, we’re going to hang out here for the rest of the night, just to make sure.”

  “Seriously?” Austin collapsed on the grass in the swale between the road and sidewalk. “Sorry . . . I’ll try to keep it quiet.” He groaned and stretched out flat on his back.

  Scott looked around. There was a tall hedge separating the house next to Wendy’s from the park, so they should be safe hanging out here. No one from the house could see them, and no one should be in the park at that time of night. There was even a short stone wall across the front of the park that they could duck behind should a car drive by.

  “We have a pretty good view from here,” Scott said. “But you’re going to have to move behind the wall so people won’t think you’ve been hit by a car.”

  Austin grimaced and forced himself to stand up. He stepped over the wall, then promptly stretched back out on the grass.

  “I can see the lights on in the back. I’ll walk down there and watch the other side of the house,” Kelly volunteered.

  Scott reached in his backpack and pulled out a pair of walkie-talkies and handed her one. “Here, take this. Keep it on channel four at all times. If you see anything weird or need help, just call us and we can be down there in a couple of seconds.”

  “Maybe a couple of minutes,” Austin muttered from his prone position on the ground.

  “Got it.” Kelly turned her unit on and depressed the button to test it as she stood next to Scott. “Ten-four, good buddy.”

  Scott jumped as Kelly’s voice was way too loud. “Jeez, turn down the volume. We don’t want neighborhood watch to call the cops on us. The last thing we need is to be arrested.”

  Casually, Kelly strolled down the sidewalk until she passed Wendy’s house, then darted into the shrubbery next to the house. She could see a light was on in what appeared to be a bedroom, but she was only guessing. She settled down, then had to move farther back because there was a row of holly bushes close to the front that were prickling through her jeans. It felt good to get off her feet. It had been a very long day, and she had to struggle to keep her eyes open.

  Inside the bedroom Wendy and Zoey had finished changing out of their dresses and into sweat pants and t-shirts. They were sitting on the bed, polishing each other’s toenails.

  “I’m glad you decided to go to the dance with us,” Zoey told her.

  “Andy . . . Coach Decker will be in a snit.” She frowned, not looking forward to hearing what he really had to say about it.

  “Austin told me that Coach Decker was making comments about me. Doesn’t it bother you that he notices other girls and compares you to them?”

  “He’s not really comparing me to them. He’s just pointing out things he likes about them so I can try to look like that. He’s why I iron my hair. He wants it perfectly straight like Jean Shrimpton, Twiggy and all those other models.” She added a second coat of London Frost to Zoey’s big toenail. “He thinks I can be a model someday. He takes pictures of me and sends them to a friend in New York. He has connections with some of the big agencies.”

  Zoey was silent, trying not to ruin their friendship, but really uncomfortable with what she was hearing.

  “It makes him happy and besides he gives me money to buy things . . . like I got this really neat yellow and gold bikini last summer. My parents don’t make a lot of money, so it really doesn’t hurt anyone. Do you think there’s something wrong with that?” Wendy asked, a little defensively.

  “Yeah, I kinda do. If he really cared about your reputation, he would wait until you were eighteen and not a student anymore.” Zoey couldn’t keep from being brutally honest. “Actually, where I come from, there’s a teacher, he’s really gorgeous, who has been sort of turning up at a couple of places I’m at. I thought it was really cool, but now I’m beginning to think it’s a little stalky.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing like that. Andy said he loves me.” She gasped and clamped her hands over her mouth as if she’d said too much. “I mean . . . uh . . .”

  Zoey sighed. The problem was, she knew exactly what Wendy was going through. It had been very flattering to have her handsome history teacher tell her she was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He’d never mentioned the word “love”, but he had been trying to get her to meet him off-campus for the last month of school. He had even called her a couple of times in the last week, late at night after her parents were in bed. The similarities to her and Wendy’s situation was striking . . . and frightening. Considering the fact that she knew Wendy had eventually died because of this man, Zoey was rethinking her own fledgling relationship. Looking at it objectively, she could see it was wrong for him to be taking advantage of her youth and vulnerability. And it was wrong of her to think he truly cared about her. “You know one day he’s going to want a lot more from you than just pictures.”

  Wendy’s hand paused, mid-air and stared down at the polish brush. “I suppose. I’ve put him off so far, and he really hasn’t pushed me . . . really.”

  “Is that why he was yelling at you at the Avalon earlier this week?”

  “Sort of. He gets upset when we can’t be alone. There’s always someone around. And then he found out Austin had asked me to the dance.” She shrugged. “He wasn’t too happy about that. He thought about benching Austin, but he wanted to win the game too much.”

  “Would you be really upset if he didn’t want to see you again?”

  “Sure, wouldn’t you if you were in my place?”

  “Enough to commit suicide?”

  Wendy looked shocked. “God, no. I would never do that.”

  Zoey sat back and tried to digest that information. She started to question her further when the little pink Princess telephone on Wendy’s nightstand rang. Wendy bounced across the bed and grabbed the phone before the ringing woke her parents.

  “Hello.” Wendy smiled as she listened. “Yeah, we’re hungry. We didn’t really eat anything at the dance.” She listened again and nodded
even though the caller couldn’t see her. “Sure, I missed you. I wish you’d been there.”

  Zoey could hear a faint male voice talking to Wendy. She had a bad feeling about this. If only there was some way she could get in touch with Scott or Austin or even Kelly.

  “Zoey and I are just sitting here, talking.” Wendy glanced over at Zoey. “I’m sure she’d like that. Yeah, the three of us.” She listened. “Okay, give us five minutes.” She hung up and turned to Zoey. “That was Andy. He wants to apologize for the way he acted tonight. He’s really nice. I want you to get to know him like I do.”

  That was not something Zoey wanted to do. But she had promised not to let Wendy out of her sight. Actually, the fact that there would be two of them against one of him would keep things safe and innocent. Surely, he wouldn’t try anything with Zoey right there. “Yeah, I guess I’m sort of hungry.”

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  SATURDAY

  It was after midnight. Scott stretched and tried to stay awake. This neighborhood was so quiet, he could hear the blood pulsing in his ears. “You doing okay, Austin?

  “Just so I don’t breathe. What’s happening?” came the voice from behind the wall.

  “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” Scott picked up his radio and was about to call Kelly when he saw an old pickup truck slowly moving down the street. The headlights were off. “Holy crap. It’s Decker!” He pressed the button on his walkie-talkie. “Kelly, come in.”

  “Yeah, do you see what I see?” Kelly responded in a whisper.

  “What’s going on in the house?”

  “Nothing. The bedroom light just went out.”

  The truck stopped in front of the house. Two dark figures ran down the front walk and got into the truck.

  “They sneaked out the front,” Scott spoke frantically into the radio.

  “You’re kidding me!” Kelly jumped out of the shadows of the shrubbery and saw the truck slowly pulling away. She knew she couldn’t run after them and keep up. She looked around and saw Wendy’s brother’s bicycle lying in the front yard. “I’m going after them.” She tucked the radio in her waistband, picked up the bike and was on it and pedaling down the road after the truck before he could respond.

  “Kelly, don’t do it,” Scott yelled, not even bothering with the radio. Austin had scrambled stiffly to his feet. Scott turned to him and repeated in the same loud voice as if Austin wasn’t about three feet away. “She did it anyway. They’re all going to die.”

  “Then we’ve got to follow them,” Austin stated flatly. He was clearly not in any condition to run, but he wasn’t going to abandon his friends. “What are you waiting for?”

  “We’re going to run?” Scott squeaked. Too late as Austin had already jumped over the stone wall and was running down the street. Scott could not come up with a better plan than to follow him.

  Kelly peddled as fast as she could and had no difficulty keeping a block or two behind. She caught up at one traffic light and considered jumping into the back of the truck. But that would completely take away any element of surprise she might have. She doubted that Decker would even notice her, a dark figure on a dark bike in the dark of the night. Plus, the light changed, and she lost her opportunity.

  The speed limit increased to 30 mph and she fell farther and farther behind. She coasted into a gas station having lost sight of Decker’s truck but knowing that he had pulled into the Sandy Beaches neighborhood. She pulled her radio out. “Scott, you there?”, she managed to gasp out.

  “Hey (pant, pant) did he (pant, pant) lose you?” he asked, breathing heavily between every other word. He still hadn’t caught up with Austin, but he wasn’t far behind.

  “Sort of. He turned into the Sandy Beaches neighborhood.

  “Man, if (pant, pant) only we (pant, pant) could Google (pant, pant) his address.”

  “Oh, I have an app for that,” Kelly assured him. “Just get to the Hess station at Estero and Elm.”

  “But you can’t . . .”

  “Just hurry,” she said and tucked the radio back in her waistband.

  Five minutes later Austin, followed by Scott about a block behind, jogged into the Hess station. Austin doubled over, trying to catch his breath while clutching his bruised ribs.

  “What app?” Scott demanded as he collapsed onto the asphalt.

  “There are two of them,” she said as she pointed to the phone books hanging from the pay phones. Kelly held up a piece of paper with an address written on it.

  “Twice in two days. Phone booths were pretty handy before cell phones and the internet stole their thunder,” Scott commented.

  “That’s sick,” Austin moaned as he grabbed his ribs.

  “560 Beachwood. Is that far?” Kelly asked.

  “One or two blocks in and to the right.” Scott told her.

  “Let’s go see what we’re up against.” Austin stood. He was trying really hard not to breathe too deeply, but the run had clearly gotten the best of him. “You two go on. I’ll catch up.”

  “You take the bike,” Kelly said, leaning it toward him. “Scott and I can run.”

  “Jog . . . or maybe a fast walk,” Scott gasped.

  They took off at a slow jog, and Austin swung onto the bike and rode next to them.

  ZOEY HESITATED IN the doorway, reluctant to enter the coach’s house. Wendy was all giggly and excited. It was clear that she had been here before.

  “Come on, Zoey. We won’t stay long. I just want you to see what a nice guy Andy is,” Wendy encouraged.

  Zoey stepped inside and Decker closed the door behind her. She noted that he didn’t lock it, so she relaxed a little.

  “Wendy, why don’t you get us some sodas?” Decker suggested. “I want to show Zoey some of my trophies.”

  Wendy happily complied, heading into the kitchen. Zoey watched Decker warily, but he gave her a charming smile and nodded toward a trophy case.

  “I know how much you like competitions. Here’s the award I won for coaching a cheer squad in college.”

  “Really? I’m hoping to get a cheer scholarship,” Zoey said.

  “I have some connections at the U. Maybe I could put in a good word for you.”

  “That’s my first choice,” Zoey told him with enthusiasm. But she knew his recommendation would do nothing for her in 2013. Still it was nice of him to offer.

  He turned to look at his trophy case and Zoey felt silly for not trusting him. She walked over and looked at the shelves filled with trophies and plaques. She was just starting to relax when suddenly and with no warning, she felt a sharp blow on the side of her head, and the whole room went black.

  MINUTES OR MAYBE hours later, Zoey forced her eyelids open. Her head throbbed, and she could feel something warm and sticky trickling down her forehead. She tried to move, but couldn’t. It took her a few seconds for her groggy brain to figure out that her feet were tied to the legs of the chair and her hands were tied behind her. Where was she . . . and how did she get here?

  She looked around her and saw that she was in what looked like a small bedroom. A bed was against one wall and there was a tripod with a camera on top, pointed at the bed. The door that led out of the room was shut, and there was a window on the opposite wall. But it was the wall to her left that caused her blood to turn cold as ice.

  Neatly mounted in rows were Polaroid pictures of dozens of girls. The room was dimly lit, and her vision was a little blurred, so she had to squint to focus on them. Girls in bikinis, girls in sexy nightgowns, even some girls that were totally naked. Zoey was about to look away when she saw, at the end of the bottom row, photos of Wendy . . . and of herself! Zoey sucked in such a big gulp of air that she almost choked. She looked down at herself and confirmed what she had seen in the photo . . . she was wearing nothing but her bra and panties. Decker had taken off her clothes and had taken pictures of her while she was unconscious.

  A groan from behind her startled her and sent her heart pounding erratically in her chest. She twiste
d and turned until she could see Wendy, also tied to a chair, was back-to-back with her. Wendy’s head was drooping forward, indicating that she was still not awake. It wasn’t until that moment that the stark reality of the situation hit her.

  Probably Wendy had heard her fall or perhaps she had come looking for them, and Decker had knocked her out, too. Zoey struggled to free her hands or her feet while trying not to make any noise. She could feel her wrists starting to bleed from her efforts, but she couldn’t stop trying to get away.

  She sensed Decker was just on the other side of the door, and she didn’t want to do anything to make him come back into the room. She had watched too many detective shows on TV to know that this wasn’t going to end well. Her gut told her that the next time he came into the room, it would be to rape her . . . or kill her . . . or both.

  Zoey was reminded of the newspaper article that Kelly had told her about stating that Wendy’s body had been found under the pier. It had been ruled a suicide, but Zoey was now convinced that Wendy had been murdered . . . by Coach Decker who must have slashed her wrists to make it look like a suicide. Zoey sighed. She had foolishly thought she could fight him off or outsmart him or something. But as cautious and as sure as she had been that he wouldn’t try anything if she had come with Wendy, it was now obvious that she had been wrong . . . dead wrong. The headlines that had proclaimed that a female body had been found under the pier would now say that there were two.

  IT DIDN’T TAKE but about ten minutes before they were in front of his house. The neighborhood was only about fifteen or twenty years old, and most of the houses had been well-maintained. Decker’s, not so much. There were more sandy patches than grass in his yard and the palm trees had dozens of dead fronds hanging forlornly from their trunks. There was a carport in front, under which the old truck was parked.

  Scott crept forward and tried to look in the front windows, but the draperies were drawn, allowing only a sliver of light out from where they met in the middle. Kelly quietly slipped around the side of the house. The first room was dark and she couldn’t see anything inside. But the second window had Venetian blinds that had been bent and didn’t close completely. Thin beams of light leaked out into the night, drawing Kelly to it.