Twisted

by Jo Gibson

  Some instinct stopped him, and Cat hesitated, the card in his hand. He was sure that Gail had apologized to Michele and Jessica, and it was possible that one or both of the girls would come up to Gail’s locker with her. If Gail found the third card in their presence, she would never start out for the Hungry Burger alone.

  Cat gazed down the empty corridor. Of course he couldn’t see Karen, but he knew that she was there. She had stopped him from dropping the card in Gail’s locker. “You’ve got to tell me, Karen. Where shall I put the card?”

  No answer came from the silent halls, or the empty classrooms. But a cold breeze swirled around Cat’s feet, and suddenly he knew exactly what to do.

  “I’ll do it, Karen. I’ll do it right now.” Cat was smiling as he put on his parka and boots. “She won’t be queen, I promise you that.”

  For a brief moment, when Gail was spinning the dial on her combination lock, she wished she’d asked Jessica and Michele to come upstairs with her to get her coat. They were friends again, now that she’d apologized, and she didn’t want to be all alone in the hallway if there was another Valentine card from Cat. But when she pulled open the door to her locker and peeked inside, Gail gave a deep sigh of relief. There was nothing on the floor. No distinctive red envelope had been slipped through the vent of her locker today.

  Even though she knew she was being silly, Gail jumped as she heard a soft noise behind her. It was a sort of muffled click, and it sounded as if someone had closed a door to one of the classrooms. Perhaps one of the teachers was working late.

  As she walked down the hallway, carrying her boots, Gail peeked into the classrooms. They were all deserted. The sound she’d heard must have been caused by the cold draft she’d felt seeping down the corridor. Even though the school was well insulated and heated in the winter, the cold air still seeped under the doors and around the windows on very cold days like this.

  It was snowing when Gail pushed open the outside door, and she was glad she’d remembered her boots. The snow had stopped during seventh period, but it was falling again now. As she went down the steps to the sidewalk, Gail noticed a set of boot prints in the snow. Someone had just left the school. It couldn’t have been Michele and Jessica because there was only one set of footprints.

  Gail giggled as something funny occurred to her, something she could never tell anyone else. It was mean, but it was funny, and she laughed as she hurried down the walkway to the parking lot. Jessica and Michele had been incredibly clumsy in cheerleader practice. If the boot prints had belonged to them, each pair would have had two left feet!

  It didn’t take long to reach her car. Gail had come to school early this morning and chosen a covered spot very close to the building, and her windshield was free of ice. She stuck her key in the lock, and then she frowned. Her car was unlocked, and she distinctly remembered locking it this morning.

  Gail stepped back, and wondered if she should open the door. Someone had been in her car. She was sure of it. Or was she? Perhaps she’d only thought she’d locked it. The locks on her old Plymouth Valiant never worked well in the winter.

  An icy wind blew around the corner, and Gail made up her mind. She’d open the door, peek inside, and check to see if anything was missing. If it was, she’d walk back to the telephone at the school entrance and call the police.

  Gail used her mitten to open the door. She’d seen enough cop movies on television, and if there were prints, she didn’t want to smudge them. But when she looked inside, everything seemed to be untouched. Her library books were piled in the passenger seat, exactly where she had left them. And her extra parka was folded very neatly in the backseat.

  Convinced that she’d been imagining things, Gail slid into the driver’s seat. She started the car, made sure it was idling properly, and stared out at the snowy parking lot, waiting for it to warm up enough to drive. No sense turning on the heater yet. If the car wasn’t warm enough, it would just blow cold, frigid air out of the vents.

  While she was waiting, Gail turned on the radio. WROQ was playing a soft, dreamy song, and she smiled as she thought of how she’d look dancing with Brett. He was tall and handsome, and she was tiny, blond and pretty. They’d look like Prince Charming and Cinderella at the Valentine’s Day Dance. There would be photographs of them together. They always took pictures at the big dances for the school yearbook. And since the Valentine’s Day Dance was a new tradition, they might just send out a photographer from the paper.

  She would wear a beautiful white dress, like a bride. White was one of her very best colors. Of course, she hadn’t saved enough money for a new dress, but she knew where her dad hid his stash. He’d never suspect her of taking it. He’d just think he’d blown it at some bar. And if he asked where she’d gotten the money for her dress, she’d lie and tell him that she’d earned it babysitting.

  The car was warm now, and Gail flicked on the heater. She took off her mittens, tossed them on the passenger seat, and then saw it, the small gift-wrapped package that had been placed on the cracked vinyl seat cushion. It was beautifully wrapped in pink foil paper, tied with a silver bow. And under the package was a red envelope addressed to her.

  Gail laughed out loud, she was so pleased. Brett must have come out here after basketball practice and left this gift in her car. It was almost enough to make her reconsider dumping him after the dance was over, but not quite. Brett wasn’t right for her. She needed someone older, with much more money. There was no way she wanted to settle down and stay in Clearwater forever!

  There was a smile on Gail’s face as she opened the package. But her smile faded fast as she caught sight of the contents. Nestled inside, on a cushion of red velvet, was a half-heart necklace, just like the one that Tanya had received. The necklace was pretty, and normally Gail would have been delighted, but not now, not after what had happened to Tanya. If this was Brett’s idea of a joke, he was sick!

  Gail was so angry, her hands were shaking as she tore open the card. Maybe Brett thought this whole thing was funny, but she didn’t! She was already planning out what she’d say when she confronted him at the Hungry Burger, when she caught sight of what was inside the envelope, and let out a gasp of fright.

  It was another Valentine card from Cat! And the poem inside was identical to the one that he’d sent Tanya! It said, Violets are blue, roses are red. An unworthy queen is better off dead.

  Gail didn’t stop to think. She just ripped the card in half and threw it out the window. Then she put her car in gear and screeched out of the parking lot, swerving on the ice as she reached out to push the locks down on the doors. Cat had been here, right here in her car! And it was clear that he intended to kill her!

  Gail’s first instinct was to drive straight home, but she quickly reconsidered. Her father wasn’t there, and she would be all alone. She needed people around her, people who could protect her from Cat.

  She stopped at the stop sign on Fourth and Oak, just as the song on the radio ended, and Crazy Mark Hannah came on to announce another. “WROQ presents their daily Oldie but Goodie. Here’s one you haven’t heard in awhile, ‘Moonshadow’ by Cat Stevens.”

  As the familiar song started to play, Gail’s eyes widened. And then she began to shake so violently, she could barely grip the wheel. Cat Stevens. Brett’s last name was Stevens. Was it just a strange coincidence, or could Brett be Cat?

  Suddenly it all clicked in place. Brett had told her how upset he was when Tanya hadn’t asked him to the dance. What if he’d suspected that Tanya had found a new boyfriend? And what if he’d been so jealous that he’d killed her?!

  Gail shook her head. No, that couldn’t be true. She’d received the same threats from Cat, and Brett had no reason to be upset with her. Unless . . .

  A frightened whimper formed deep in her throat, and Gail swallowed hard to hold it in. She would not give way to terror. And then she whispered the answer to her own question. “Brett found out I was lying!”

  Brett hated liars. He’d
said that once, when they were all gathered around the lunch table. Gail could remember his exact words . . . now, when it was too late.

  They had been talking about Jerry Connors and the stolen car the police had found parked in the alley behind his parents’ garage. Jerry had sworn that he hadn’t known the car was there. And he’d claimed he had nothing to do with the theft, right up until the moment the police had found his fingerprints all over the steering wheel.

  “I don’t understand why he didn’t tell the truth.” Brett had sounded angry as he’d gazed around the table. “They gave him plenty of chances to confess, and they would have gone easy on him if he’d just admitted he’d made a mistake. But Jerry lied, and liars always get in trouble. If a person’s done something wrong, he should be brave enough to admit it. Lying is the coward’s way out!”

  They had all nodded. But then Amy had spoken up. Amy was always the one to ask the philosophical questions. “Which do you think is worse, Brett? Lying about stealing something. Or the stealing, itself?”

  “Lying. At least that’s the way I look at it. I hate it when a person lies to me. It means they don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth.”

  But how had Brett found out that she’d lied? Gail mentally reviewed what she’d told him. She’d said her mother was dead, and all her friends knew never to mention her mother. She was safe on that count. But then she’d said that her mother had been Homecoming Queen. And she’d given her mother’s first name. And she’d also claimed that her father had been the captain of the football team.

  Gail shuddered. Brett had probably gone up to the library to look at the old school yearbooks. And when he hadn’t found a picture of her father or her mother, he’d known that she had lied to him.

  But would he threaten her for a little white lie like that? Gail’s mind spun in terrified circles. Everyone knew that Cat was crazy. His little poems were the work of a certified lunatic. And if Brett was Cat, he was definitely crazy enough to kill her.

  A car honked behind her, and Gail almost jumped out of her skin. As she swiveled around to see who it was, she half-expected to see Brett glaring at her. But it wasn’t Brett. It was only a red-haired lady with two small children in the backseat.

  The lady rolled down her window and shouted something that Gail couldn’t hear. Since she was no threat, Gail rolled her window down, too.

  “What’s the matter?” The lady looked concerned. “Are you in trouble?”

  Gail almost said yes, until she realized that the lady was referring to car trouble. After all, she’d been parked at the stop sign for the past five minutes. “No. I . . . I’m okay.”

  Gail pulled away from the stop sign and drove down the street, even though she wasn’t quite sure where to go, or what to do. Someone had threatened to kill her, and she was almost sure she knew who it was. What should a person do in a situation like that?

  The police. The minute Gail thought of it, she turned on Fifth Street and headed toward the highway. The sheriff’s department had handled everything when Tanya had died, and they would protect her from Cat.

  The highway had just been plowed, and Gail increased her speed. The sheriff’s station was only five miles away, and she felt a little better now that she’d decided on a course of action. She’d tell the sheriff everything, and he would arrest Brett. When Cat was locked behind bars, she would be safe.

  No one seemed to be on the highway today. It was only four forty-five, and the few cars that made up the rush hour in Clearwater wouldn’t appear on the highway until after the local businesses closed at five.

  Gail reached out and flicked on her headlights. Nights came early in the winter. On the shortest day of the year, December twenty-first, the sun had set at four-seventeen. The days were a little longer now, but it still got dark before five.

  The twin beams of her headlights made the world seem smaller. The road looked like an endless tunnel, with the banks of snow the snowplow had left at the sides of the road forming sheer white walls to define the space. The snowbanks were high, almost eight feet, and Gail knew that she had to drive carefully. If she went into a skid and slipped off the highway, she’d crash into a solid wall of snow.

  As the darkness closed in, and the dusky sky turned as black as ink, Gail began to tremble again. She knew she was safe in the enclosed cocoon of her car, but now that the night was here, all sorts of horrible thoughts flashed through her mind. What if Brett guessed where she was going and came after her? If he didn’t turn on his lights, she’d never know he was behind her until he rammed her with his car. Brett’s Cadillac was much bigger than her Valiant. He could bump her right off the road. And then, when she was stuck in a ditch and helpless, he could . . .

  Gail bit back a scream as she heard a thumping noise at the rear of her car. But then she realized that she’d just taken a curve very fast, and her bowling ball was in her trunk. As she’d swerved around the curve, it had rolled from side to side, bumping against the spare tire.

  Without even thinking, Gail stepped down on her accelerator. The faster she got to the sheriff’s station, the better. But then she heard another noise, one that made her wrinkle her forehead in concern. The engine in her Valiant was knocking!

  Gail groaned, and said a little prayer. If her car broke down, and Brett came along behind her, she was dead meat. Somehow she had to get to the sheriff’s station before that happened!

  The Homestead Hill Grocery was right ahead of her, at the bottom of the hill, and Gail drew a sigh of relief as she passed it. Only two miles to go and she’d be there. All she had to do was drive up Homestead Hill, and then it was all downhill to the sheriff’s station.

  The Valiant began to knock harder as it struggled up the incline. Homestead Hill was a long, slow, gentle slope rising steadily for at least half a mile. But the last few hundred feet were steep, and Gail held her breath as the Valiant chugged steadily upward, finally cresting the top of the hill. She’d made it! Now all she had to do was floor it, and if the Valiant died on her, it would still coast all the way to the sheriff’s station. It was a straight line from here to there, with the exception of one sharply sloped curve.

  Gail stomped on the gas, and the Valiant faltered. Maybe flooring it wasn’t such a good idea, after all. She pressed the gas pedal down very slowly, by increments, and that seemed to work just fine.

  The lights on the dash flickered on and off, but that didn’t disturb Gail. The Valiant had a short somewhere, and the dash lights had flickered ever since her father had given it to her. That was one of the reasons her father had handed Gail the keys to the Valiant, and bought a new car for himself. No one seemed to be able to fix it, and her father did a lot of night driving. He’d told her that the flickering lights were much too distracting.

  Gail had solved the problem. Since the dash lights acted like a strobe, and they went on and off at regular intervals, she’d turned them down to the lowest setting and learned to blink in time with the flickers. This would have looked a little silly if anyone else had been in the car; but Gail seldom drove at night, and when she did, she was alone.

  There was no doubt that she was picking up speed. Gail gave the Valiant a little more gas and wondered how fast she was going. There was only one way to tell, so she blinked several times and caught sight of the needle. Sixty miles an hour and she was going downhill. She didn’t have to be a rocket scientist to know that sixty miles an hour was much too fast.

  Since the roads were icy, Gail was very careful as she touched her brakes. New cars had anti-lock brakes, but the Valiant was ten years old. If her brakes locked up, she’d be in big trouble.

  Gail gave a sigh of relief when she stepped on the pedal and her brakes didn’t lock. But as the seconds ticked by, she realized that her car wasn’t slowing. Gail stepped on her brake pedal again, but the Valiant didn’t respond. What was the matter with her brakes?

  She blinked and managed to catch a glimpse of the speedometer again. And she gasped as she realized that the
needle was hovering at sixty-five. She was picking up too much speed, and Deadman’s Curve, the site of several fatal accidents, was only a quarter of a mile away!

  Gail didn’t stop to worry about whether her brakes would lock or not. She just stomped on the pedal and pushed it all the way down to the floor, hanging on to the wheel as tightly as she could.

  But absolutely nothing happened! The Valiant didn’t swerve, or shudder, or skid. It just kept on going, faster and faster, racing toward Deadman’s Curve.

  Gail didn’t scream. There wasn’t time. She just fought the wheel, and prayed that she could steer her way around the curve. But when she caught another glimpse of the speedometer, she knew that her effort would be in vain. The Valiant had hurtled down the icy slope, and the needle on the speedometer was stuck at eighty!

  That was when Gail screamed. It was a scream of terror and pure frustration. She was going to die, and she knew exactly who had sabotaged her brakes. It was Cat. He’d struck again, and there was no way she could tell anyone who’d done it. It was too late, much too late, and she was going to die!

  The half-heart necklace. Gail reached down and found the box. She grabbed the necklace with one hand and slipped it over her neck. It was too late for her, but at least it would give the sheriff a clue.

  And then the Valiant barreled into the curve, and Gail saw the guard rails flickering past her with a speed so fast they looked like toothpicks. She’d almost made it, almost managed to steer her way out of the curve, when the Valiant hit an icy patch and she hurtled into eternal darkness.

  Twelve

  Amy and Danny were sitting in a booth at the Hungry Burger, waiting for Colleen to join them. School had been awful. Everyone had walked around in shock, unable to believe that Gail was dead. Mr. Dorman had called for an assembly before first period, and he’d given them the sad news. Of course, most of them had heard it already. When Gail hadn’t shown up to meet Brett after cheerleading practice, he’d gone out looking for her. He’d found her wrecked car, out on the highway, and driven straight to the sheriff’s station to report it.