Don't Close Your Eyes (12 page)

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Authors: Carlene Thompson

Tags: #Fiction, #Thrillers, #General, #Suspense

BOOK: Don't Close Your Eyes
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“Stakeout.”

“But that could take hours. I can only stay for a little while.”

“Fair enough. Let’s get closer. We’ll hide behind those bushes in front of the house.”

Jimmy darted across the ragged lawn of the Saunders house, Paige hot on his heels. They dived behind the bushes, both panting. “Jimmy,” she hissed, “what if the killer comes out? We don’t have a gun or knife or anything.”

Jimmy blinked at her for a moment. Apparently he hadn’t considered this wrinkle in his plan. “Well … uh … we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t see us. For now.”

“What do you mean for now?’

“Shhh!”

Paige subsided unhappily. She had a bad feeling about this. A very bad feeling.

She peered between the bushes, trying to see the house more clearly. She couldn’t. Even the crescent moon had vanished behind a drifting cloud. Shadows pooled around Ariel Saunders’s long-deserted home. Jimmy said she haunted it. Paige believed in ghosts, this would certainly be the place for one. The big, old, musty house loomed over them, and Paige had the persistent feeling of being watched.

Something screeched not far away. She nearly leaped from behind the bushes. Jimmy restrained her. “That owl got a mouse,” he whispered.

“I told you owls mean death.”

They sat quietly on the ground for what seemed like an hour. When Paige looked at the luminous hands of her watch, though, she saw that it had only been fifteen minutes. Time seemed suspended. She smacked at a mosquito. Another bite to add to the five others that itched maddeningly. And she needed the bathroom. Bad.

 

Horror shot through her. What if her bladder gave way and she wet her pants in front of Jimmy? She’d die. Right on the spot her heart would stop from pure mortification and she’d keel over. Paige pictured herself lying pale and motionless on the dew-laden grass, her hair spread in a halo around her head, her white eyelids tragically shut forever … and a big wet circle on her jeans.

“Jimmy, I have to go home.”

‘Wow?”

“Yes, now.” She couldn’t tell him the truth. “If I get caught, I’ll never be able to sneak out again—”

The sound of electric guitars tore through the black tunnel of night. Jimmy and Paige both jumped. Drumbeats seemed to shake the ground. Their gazes met. Music! Rock music crashed inside Ariel Saunders’s dark, deserted wreck of a house.

Paige clutched Jimmy’s arm as a young male voice sang with rock’s intensity:

 

When night falls And the shadows call He hovers in the dark Hungering for your heart. Don’t close your eyes He’s watching for you.

 

Paige’s grip on Jimmy’s arm tightened. “Let’s go,” she quavered as the air vibrated around them.

 

He longs to take your soul And put it in the hole Deep down inside Where now the devil hides. Don’t close your eyes …

 

Don’t close your eyes? All Paige wanted to do was close her eyes. But she didn’t. She stared, mesmerized, as light

 

suddenly flared from a window beside the door. It glowed and flickered. Candlelight.

She began to shiver. She didn’t need the bathroom anymore. She just wanted to be someplace else, anyplace else. She looked at Jimmy, who stared intensely at the light, his lips pressed together in a tight line of fear and excitement.

Piercing electric guitar chords raced frantically up and down the scale, pulsating through the warm summer night, striking deep within Paige’s stomach. The young man sang feelingly, menacingly, seeming to be right next to her, singing only to Paige:

 

And you try to escape

From the one who wears the cape

But he’s stealthy as a cat

And silent as a bat.

 

Silent as a bat? Paige looked nervously over her shoulder. Nothing she could see, but she felt something. “Jimmy, what’ll we do?” she almost sobbed.

Jimmy seemed frozen in place. His face was rigid as the song started again.

The light grew brighter, flickering from the windows. Paige knew another candle had been lit. More light. Another candle. What was this? Some kind of ceremony? Maybe a pagan ceremony? A Satanic ritual? The music grew even louder. Couldn’t the whole world hear it? Paige wondered as it shook and shuddered its way up to the black sky. Would that loving but also fearsome God everyone talked about now retaliate, sending down a lightning bolt, destroying the house and everything around it, including her and Jimmy?

 

Don’t close your eyes, He’s reaching for you …

 

The night. The mist. The music. The dancing candlelight. Paige’s chest tightened. Each breath was an effort. She’d been worried about what her mother would think of her

 

sneaking around at night. Her mother was a spirit now. They said this place was haunted but it couldn’t be her mother’s spirit inside. Meagan Meredith wouldn’t scare her little girl this much, even if she were angry with Paige for sneaking out. Could it be Ariel? Could a furious Ariel Saunders be laying claim to her house invaded by two kids? The scene began to swirl and Paige shut her eyes tight, trying to stop the spinning. If she fainted she couldn’t get away from this awful place.

“I’m gonna look in the window.”

Paige’s eyes snapped open. “No!” she rasped.

“I have to, Paige. The killer’s inside.”

“Don’t be crazy!” Paige said frantically, but Jimmy looked determined. She forced down her fear. This was getting serious and even if her adored Jimmy wanted to live in a fantasy world, she didn’t and she wouldn’t let him, either.

“Jimmy, no!” she said firmly. “You could get killed—”

The music shot a notch higher. The shadows around the house shifted and ebbed in the candle flames, seeming to dance along with the heart-thumping music. The night was chilly but sweat trickled down Paige’s sides and dampened the nape of her neck. “Jimmy, I’m going. You’re going too if I have to drag you—”

The front door flew open, slamming into the side of the house so hard Paige thought she heard wood splintering. The music soared. A hulking shape appeared in silhouette against the candlelight. Paige stopped breathing as a scream rose in her throat. The shape dipped and drifted toward them, snickering, muttering, “Don’t close your eyes … He’s reaching for you …”

Closer.

Closer…

A shadow fell over them. Paige and Jimmy screamed simultaneously. Paige’s bladder let go as they leaped from behind the bushes and ran blindly from the terrible throbbing house, ran heedless of grasping vines and wet grass and animal holes, ran until they felt as if their hearts would burst.

And somewhere in the distance an owl hooted…

7

MONDAY MORNING

 

Music. Mist. A hulking, dancing figure swooping down on them!

Paige screamed and jerked upward. Her father caught her in his big, hard arms. “Just a nightmare, honey.”

Paige took a deep breath and blinked several times. Yes, here she was in her twin bed with the pretty peach-and-green puffy quilt, her lacy curtains, her stuffed animal collection, her black-and-white cat Ripley lying by her side studying her with calm, green eyes.

“I came in because you were whimpering in your sleep. What were you dreaming?” Nick Meredith asked.

“It was all mixed up,” Paige lied. “But it was scary. Something about Mrs. Hunt’s murder.” Paige hated lying to her father. “I dreamed about the person who killed that poor woman. So awful!” she added, imitating Mrs. Collins’s voice when she’d spent the afternoon calling her friends to tell them about the murder.

“I see,” Nick said slowly. “In your dream did you see that person?”

“No. Just somebody big and mean.” Who likes candlelight and loud rock music, she thought with a shudder. “Did you catch him yet, Daddy?”

“No, but I will.” Nick smiled and kissed Paige on the forehead. “You get ready for school, kid.”

“Daddy, it’s summer.” Boy, he was tired, Paige thought. “Jimmy and I might hang out.”

“Doesn’t he know any guys?” Nick asked querulously.

 

“Yeah, but they swim all day. Or play baseball. Jimmy is more intellectual.”

Her father’s lips twitched. “Intellectual, huh? I never thought of Jimmy Jenkins as intellectual.”

“Oh, but he is, Daddy. He’s really smart.”

“I’d still like to see you play with Barbie dolls for a change.”

“I hate Barbie dolls!”

“Don’t the other girls play with them?”

“I guess, but I don’t have any friends that are girls.”

“Make some.”

Mrs. Collins hovered in the doorway. “I know some lovely young girls I could introduce her to.”

Wonderful, Paige thought. If Mrs. Collins liked them, they’d probably be a dull as she was. They’d want to have tea parties rather than solve murders.

“Hey, Dad,” Paige said quickly to change the subject, “Jimmy said out where Mrs. Hunt got killed yesterday there was a woman with black hair.”

“Yes.” Nick stood up, straightening his tie. “Natalie St. John. Her father is Andrew St. John who took out your tonsils in February.”

“Pretty?”

“Andrew St. John? Not especially.”

“Daddy! I mean his daughter. Is she pretty?”

“I guess. I really didn’t notice.”

Too casual, Paige observed. He’d noticed and he thought she was pretty. She didn’t like thinking of him with any woman except her mother, but she didn’t want him to be lonely, either. And she could tell he was really lonely in spite of her efforts to entertain him. “Jimmy said she probably took that lost dog home with her.”

“She did. She’s a veterinarian.”

Paige’s interest soared. “She likes animals!”

“Just like another young lady I know.” He looked at the shining black-and-white cat. “I think Ripley is getting fat.”

“Daddy, you’ll hurt his feelings!”

“He looks devastated.”

 

“If you think he’s too fat, maybe he should go see Natalie St. John.”

“She’s not in practice here. Besides, there is nothing wrong with the cat except a few extra pounds.”

“And he does have that annoying habit of jumping off the newel post on the stairs,” Mrs. Collins put in. “He startles the life out of me when he comes springing out of nowhere.”

“See, Daddy, that proves he’s not too fat or he couldn’t jump so well. But he does scratch his ears a lot.” Paige assumed a distressed look. “I’m worried.”

“You’re curious, Paige Meredith,” Nick laughed. “For some reason you want to get a look at Natalie St. John.” He shrugged. “If I see her, I’ll ask her about checking out Ripley. She’ll probably say no.”

“Not if she’s nice she won’t,” Paige muttered to Ripley when her father left the room. She lovingly touched the small black spot on the end of his pink nose. “That’s how we’ll know if she might be the right girl for Daddy.”

After Nick went to headquarters and Mrs. Collins drifted back downstairs to her knitting and her morning talk shows, the phone rang. Paige grabbed up her extension before Mrs. Collins could rouse herself from the couch. It was Jimmy. “Get in trouble?” he asked abruptly.

“No.”

“Told you. Did you tell your dad what we saw at the Saunders house?”

“Are you kidding? First I’d get grounded for life because of sneaking out and going to that place. Then he’d lock me up for being crazy. He’d never believe what we saw last night. No grownup would.”

“That’s why I’ve got another plan.”

Paige groaned inwardly. Jimmy and his plans. “What now?”

“We go back—”

“Go back! Are you completely nuts?”

“Let me finish. We go back with a camera! A Polaroid so we don’t have to wait for the film to be developed. We take a picture of that thing in the house. Then we show your dad.”

 

“A picture?”

“It’s the only way to get proof.”

Paige thought, gnawing her lower lip. “Well, it would be proof, but I don’t know about going back there …”

“Look, I know you’re scared because you’re a girl—”

“I’m not scared because I’m a girl! I’m not scared at all!”

“Okay, okay, don’t wet your pants.” Paige caught her breath. Had he seen her wet jeans last night after all? No. It was just an expression. “So you’re not scared,” Jimmy went on. “Fine. You just don’t want to get caught, so I’ll take my dad’s camera and say I was there all by myself. I won’t even mention you. That way you can be in on the action without getting in trouble.”

“You’d do that for me?” Paige asked.

“Yeah. We’re partners. Partners cover for each other.”

Paige was thrilled. Jimmy thought of her as his partner! She was frightened to go back out to Ariel Saunders’s house, terrified of seeing that awful creature again, but if she didn’t, Jimmy might no longer think of her as his partner. That was even worse than being scared silly.

“So are you coming with me?” Jimmy asked.

“Of course,” she answered with cool assurance she didn’t feel.

“Good, because we have to do something,” he said dramatically. “There’s a killer in that house, a madman, and we’re the only ones who know about it.”

 

Seven o’clock the previous evening Natalie finally had called Lily at Oliver’s house. “Natalie, my sister was murdered,” Lily had wailed. “Her throat was cut. And that note—the one about the throats and an open tomb—the sheriff thinks that was left on her body by the killer. But you knew that, didn’t you? That’s why you took the note from me. You knew my sister had been murdered. How?”

“I didn’t know, I just suspected. How are things at home?”

“It’s so strange around here,” Lily had said. “Dad is alternately raging or morose. And of course we’ve been graced with the presence of Viveca and Alison. I should be grateful. Viveca has a calming effect on Dad, but her syrupy concern drives me up the wall. And Alison! I don’t know how someone manages to be so creepy by doing so little. If Dad marries Viveca and Alison Cosgrove becomes my stepsister—”

“Don’t worry about that now.”

“I can’t help it.” Lily’s voice raced and shook. “She is just madly in love with Warren. Or whatever she thinks love is. She looks like she wants to tear off his clothes every time she glances at him. It’s sickening. I used to tell Tam that Alison was fixated on Warren, but Tam didn’t believe me. At least she pretended not to believe me. Even her innocent eyes couldn’t have missed Alison nearly drooling over Warren now, though. And don’t tell me I’m imagining things!”

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