“You still don’t know your place,” he said. His voice was angry, venomous. “Don’t you understand that I chose you! Four nights from now — when the moon is full — I plan to make you my wife, and yet you dare speak to me that way.”
“Your wife?” I repeated incredulously.
“There! See what you did? You ruined the surprise!” He stood and paced as he spoke. “Well, now you know. I don’t suppose it can be helped.”
“But, how…?”
“Don’t worry,” he smiled indulgently, like he was humouring a child. “I’ve written the ceremony just for us. No one else is needed. We will take our vows together, the two of us. And then we will drink a toast to our love and drift off into that endless sleep that seals the destinies of true soulmates.”
So he meant to kill me… to kill both of us. My stomach churned with fear and nausea. Jason looked over, sighed, and shook his head.
“Don’t worry. When the time comes, you will be ready,” he said. “You will come with me gladly.”
“And where will this, uh, ceremony be?”
“Here. Right here, my love. And now, I’ve waited so long, I must kiss you.”
He came over, leaned down, and made good on his threat. Somehow, as repulsed as I was, I managed to kiss him back and smile when he pulled his head away.
“Our wedding night will be so special,” he said huskily. I tried not to shudder.
I wondered, as the hours went by and everything he said just proved more and more that he was mad, how Jason had managed to keep it hidden up until now. And was he still carrying off a normal act when he wasn’t here in the shed? I suspected he was. It was the only way he could guard his secret and keep from getting caught. Besides, he might be crazy, but he wasn’t stupid. His planning had been thorough, and I could-n’t think of any details he’d overlooked that might help me to get away.
I had to accept the fact that I might never leave this place alive.
“Can I leave a note for my family?” I asked.
“We shall see.”
“But do I have to stay under the building when you leave? Can’t you tie me somewhere up here?”
“It’s not safe,” he said. “But it’s only for a few more days, and then it will be over and we will be gloriously sealed together.”
“The hours are so long… when you’re away,” I said. “Could you bring me something to help me pass the time? Something to read maybe?”
“In the dark?” He laughed and touched my nose with a finger playfully, like we were just a couple of friends joking around.
“Oh, right. What about an iPod or Walkman or something like that that only plays through earphones?”
He looked thoughtful. “I don’t suppose there’d be any harm in that.”
“Thank you, Jason,” I said softly. “It will make it more bearable for me down there.”
“For today, you’ll have to manage,” he said. “It will be light soon, and I don’t have time to go home and back. I’ll bring another blanket and a Walkman tomorrow. But for now, you know what we have to do.”
I stood up. As much as I dreaded spending another twelve hours or more in the crawlspace, I was determined not to fight it.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
I made up my mind to relax and sleep as much as possible the second day I was in the crawlspace. Even so, it was hard to stay calm. Thoughts of my parents tore into my heart. I knew they were suffering as much as I was, though in a different way. I tried not to think of them too much, but sometimes I couldn’t help it. I knew they’d be out of their minds with worry and grief, and it only added to my misery.
And Greg. What was he thinking? I knew he’d be frantic and worried, no matter what had happened between us.
Once, just once, I let myself fantasize about being free and seeing Greg somewhere. I played it out in my head. We’d hug and kiss and everything would be all right.
Only, that just made me feel worse. My chest hurt and tears spilled out and I had to tell myself very sternly not to do that again.
I found myself still wide awake when daylight came, which made me realize why I was having difficulty falling asleep, in spite of my fatigue.
My whole system was thrown off by the reversal of sleep and wake times! All of a sudden I was forced to stay up during the nights — when Jason showed up — and sleep during the daytime. Not that the light was a problem by any means, since so little of it filtered in between the boards. Still, it was enough for me to see dimly once my eyes adjusted.
It was only completely dark down there when I first went in — before the sun came up — and again later on after it went down. But at least then I knew that Jason would be coming along. He moved under cover of darkness, and now he didn’t even have to worry about his footprints. With all the searchers that had been around, no one would think anything of track marks, wherever they went. He’d laughed about the tracks up to the shed’s door, telling me he no longer had to worry about brushing his away with branches. I understood then what the whishing sounds were that I’d heard the first time he left me, and it actually angered me that I hadn’t figured out something that simple.
No doubt my difficulty sleeping also had a lot to do with the fact that I now knew Jason meant to kill me. That’s not the kind of thing you can just put out of your mind. But I did my best by telling myself over and over that I would escape somehow.
And then, of course, when I did manage to sleep, it was fitful and light. I woke a number of times to the sounds of Scurry scampering around, and also when voices or footsteps were near enough for me to hear them.
It was torturous, knowing that help was so close and being completely unable to do anything about it.
Thankfully, it seemed a bit warmer down there this time, and I think I managed to sleep more than I had the day before. It helped the time go by faster, and when the light faded I found myself looking forward to Jason’s arrival. When he came, it seemed much later than it had the night before.
He was in a bad mood, grumbling about having to go to school all day and not getting enough sleep afterward. I could barely keep myself from snapping that it was probably better than spending twelve or fourteen hours under the shed.
After relieving myself and having some water and a sandwich (today’s was peanut butter), I was treated to more hours of listening to Jason’s plans. He told me that he’d be bringing me a “bridal gown” for the ceremony.
“It would sure be nice to have a shower first,” I hinted. As expected, he ignored the comment and just went on about how he’d bought the so-called gown pretending it was for his mom for Christmas.
“A bridal gown for your mom?” I said, unable to keep the disbelief from my voice.
“Well, it’s actually a nightgown and housecoat,” he admitted, “but it’s all white and flowing. It’ll be perfect, you’ll see. I can’t bring it here until the big night, though, because there’s nowhere to hide it up here, and,” he nodded toward the floorboards, “we wouldn’t want it to get dirty down there.”
No, but it’s fine for me to be stuck down there in the dirt, I thought. Outwardly, I nodded solemnly, like he’d just made a very good point.
He talked on and on about the “wedding night.” As you can imagine, I found it a bit difficult to look thrilled and excited about what he was describing. Vows he’d written for us to say to each other, food he’d bring for our “wedding feast,” and the “special” champagne. On and on he went. Crazy details, disjointed thoughts… all nonsense, but all the more dangerous because they made perfect sense in his twisted mind.
“I almost forgot to tell you about the music!” he said, clapping his hands together. “I’ve burned a special CD for us with just the right songs. Just wait until you hear them.”
I smiled.
“Oh, that reminds me. I brought a Walkman for you, like you asked.” He reached into the bag of supplies, a lot of it junk food that he snacked on all night, and pulled out the Walkman. “I thought about br
inging our wedding CD, but then it wouldn’t be special for just that night. Anyway, there are only a couple of CDs with it, so you’ll get some repetition.”
“That doesn’t matter. Anything at all will be an improvement over laying there listening to nothing.” Another smile — I felt like my face would crack soon. “Thank you, Jason. And, could I ask for one more thing?”
“What?”
“A toothbrush and toothpaste?” I forced a little laugh and added, “I guess that was two things, wasn’t it? But anyway, I’d sure like to be able to brush my teeth.”
“No problem,” he said. “I’ll bring them tomorrow night. And now, as much as I hate to leave you, I’ve got to get home and try to grab a couple of hours sleep before school.”
“I understand.” More time in the hole, but I decided even that was better than having to sit there and keep listening to him rave. I stood compliantly while he went through the routine of moving the floorboards, tying me, and taping my mouth. Then he lifted me down into the crawlspace, put the earphones on me, and positioned the Walkman where I could reach it to turn it on and off, or change CDs.
In no time, he’d put everything back in place and I heard him go out the door. It would be hours before sunrise and more than that before anyone might happen along. I closed my eyes and said a short prayer.
If Jason had his way, I had two more days to live.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Thinking about it, I don’t know how I made myself wait. No doubt it was fear: fear that the plan I’d formulated on the first night I’d spent as a prisoner under the shed’s floor wouldn’t work.
It was well after daylight broke before I made a move. Scurry was sitting in his usual place — I told myself he’d come to like having me there — and the movement startled him, making him run off. I made a silent promise that, if I got out of there alive, I’d come back and bring him some jelly beans. I’d heard mice like them better than cheese.
Even though my fingers were loose it was difficult to do anything with my wrists tied. I fumbled a few times, but was careful not to rush. A single mistake could ruin everything.
It all had to be done by feel, of course, but as I made progress I found my heartbeat quickening with excitement. They felt right! Until I had them in my hand, there’d been no way to know whether or not the batteries from the Walkman would fit my alarm.
Using my fingers, I explored the cavity to make sure I was getting the right ends on the positive posts, and then I inserted the batteries into the alarm.
Then came the nerve-wracking wait for someone — anyone — to come near enough to the shed. It was possible that the alarm wouldn’t work after being slammed down hard enough to bust the battery door and crack the case, but I didn’t test it. Maybe that was fear again, though I told myself I wasn’t wasting one second of power from the batteries. Since I didn’t know how much charge was in them, I couldn’t risk draining them before the sounds of the alarm could summon help.
It felt like ten hours, but it was probably only one or two, before I heard voices. Kids! I hesitated, wondering if I should wait for someone older, but then I remembered how curious kids are. I felt sure they’d come to see what was going on — if the alarm worked — but what they’d do afterward remained to be seen.
Heart pounding, my finger moved and clicked the switch. The siren came to life immediately, blaring in what was an unbelievably loud sound in the confines of the crawlspace.
It wasn’t two minutes before I heard the sounds I was praying for: feet pounding on the steps, banging, and voices. As much as I wanted to know what they were saying, I didn’t dare turn off the alarm as long as they were there.
They banged on the door a few times, but any other sounds they made were drowned out by the siren, in spite of how hard I strained to hear. Then there was nothing, and I knew they were gone. I switched the alarm off to save the batteries.
“Please let them get help,” I prayed. And I prepared myself to wait, either for them to come back with an adult, or for someone else to come along. I knew it could be a while, so it was a surprise when I heard footsteps again after what seemed no more than ten minutes.
I could tell at once that the sounds I now heard were from adults. As they reached the shed, I switched the alarm on again and over the screeching noise it made, I heard an excited shout.
It blurs after that. A crashing sound, heavy footsteps on the floor above me. I turned the alarm off again and kicked at the floorboards with all my might. I heard scraping when the table and stools were moved and then light flooded in as the boards were lifted out.
“It’s her!”
There, leaning down, reaching down, pulling me up and out, was Officer Mueller. Beside him, Officer Stanton stood with tears running down her cheeks. Well, to be honest, we were all crying.
“My parents,” I said, the second the tape was off my mouth.
“I was calling it in while he was getting you out of there,” Stanton said.
They both worked on getting the ties off me, and in no time I was completely freed. You have no idea how good it felt to be able to walk and move normally again, or how good it felt a few moments later when they led me out of the building and, for the first time since my horror began, I was outside again.
“Who are we after?” Mueller asked as they helped me to the cruiser.
“Jason Puckett. He’s probably at school right now.”
“We need to pick him up before he hears that you’re out,” Stanton said. Now that her tears were dried, she couldn’t stop smiling. It was quite a contrast from the officer I’d first met — the woman who’d been so cool and professional. I decided I liked her just fine either way.
“And Eric? He’s innocent, you know.”
“Yes, we know. He’s already been released. When you disappeared, we took a harder look at some of the evidence.”
“Like the height of the person on the surveillance tape?”
“We caught that later. First thing we discovered was the complete absence of fingerprints on the sheets of paper that were planted at his place. Since some of them were just drafts of the letter that was sent to you, it didn’t make sense he’d be that careful about prints.”
We were nearing my place by then and I saw my mom in the doorway. As we pulled into the drive she hurried out and the next moment she was holding me and sobbing.
“If I went outside in this weather with no jacket on, I’d be in trouble,” I said teasingly. And then I broke down, too.
Dad arrived minutes later and the whole emotional scene was repeated. He’d continued searching with the volunteers while Mom had been asked to remain at home in case the culprit called. She said it was much worse having to stay in the house when all she could think was that she should be doing something.
A lot more things happened that day. Some of them kind of jumble together, but a few stand out.
Like Betts’s face when she came running into my kitchen after she’d heard the news and rushed over.
Like hearing that Jason had been arrested and that the Crown had already decided to ask that he be charged as an adult. This was no longer a case of stalking; it was kidnapping, unlawful confinement, and a bunch of other things. Jason was going to be locked away for a long, long time.
Like calling Eric and telling him how sorry I was for what he’d been through. He said he knew it wasn’t my fault and he didn’t hold anything against me for believing he was a stalker, even for a little while, but I think he’s over his crush on me for good.
Like sitting in the kitchen after a lovely, hot shower, dressed in clean clothes and eating a steaming hot bowl of soup and then hearing the kitchen door open and looking up…
And seeing Greg there.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Normally, I’d have sat and waited to see what he wanted, but there was nothing normal about the last few days. I got up and went to him, put my arms around him, and felt my heart lift with joy as his encircled me.
I d
idn’t care if I had to swallow my pride or not. It spilled out of me — all of it. Why I’d broken up with him, how much I’d missed him, everything.
At first he just held me and didn’t say anything. I realized after a few minutes that was because he was too choked up to speak. When he did finally speak, he just kept saying, “I love you, Shelby. You know I love you.”
“I love you too,” I said, feeling this huge surge of joy. “And I don’t even care about you going out with Tina.”
“Going out with Tina?” He pulled back, his face astonished. “What are you talking about?”
“Tyrone’s party. You were there with her.”
“With Tina? No way! She asked me, but I told her no. I mean, there’s nothing wrong with her, but…”
His voice trailed off for a moment and then I could see him sorting through it. “You thought that, because she was beside me, we were together. To be honest, it was getting on my nerves how every time I turned around it seemed she was there. But I never thought anyone — least of all you — would think we were there together.”
I felt a little embarrassed for listening to Betts. I could see exactly what had happened! She’d heard something about Tina asking Greg to go with her, and passed it on to me as if it was a done deal.
“I should have known,” I said. “I should have known you better than that. If I had, none of what happened… I mean, I’d have…”
I almost didn’t know what I was trying to say, but it didn’t matter. It was all over.
“Anyway, didn’t you understand the story I wrote for you?”
“What story?” I asked.
“The one about the whooping cranes.”
“I remember you reading it. It was really nice.” I looked up and saw him smiling in a sweet, patient way, like he does when I’m slow clueing in to something. “Why? Is there something special about whooping cranes?”
“I think so.” He leaned down and kissed me. “Once they choose a mate, they stay together for life.”
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