Flowers in a Dumpster (14 page)

“There’s only the one way in and out of the tower,” Mr. Trilling said. “She couldn’t have come back down without passing her father. A few of us met, discussed the situation, and decided to lock up the tower and not let anyone in there.”

“And no one has been in the tower since?”

Mr. Brackett shook his head. “No, although we have done experiments.”

“What kind of experiments?”

“Every so often we’ll open up the trapdoor and set an object just inside the tower. Books, music boxes, clothing. We’ll come back later to see if the objects are still there. Sometimes they are . . . sometimes they aren’t.”

Alec stared around him at this group of older men. A realization hit him with the force of a sledgehammer. “You all really believe this, don’t you? You actually think people are going up in the tower and vanishing into thin air.”

“It’s the truth,” Dr. Grey said in a raw, scratchy voice. “You have to trust us on this.”

“I don’t think so. I may write about spooks and supernatural happenings, but I don’t actually believe in that nonsense. I can’t believe a group of intelligent men would believe in it either.”

“Then where is my Melanie?” Dr. Grey shouted suddenly, turning and advancing on Alec. “What do you think happened to her?”

“I don’t know,” Alec’s voice softened with sympathy. “I really am sorry for your loss, but I don’t believe there’s some kind of black hole or whatever in the Winnie Davis tower.”

“You don’t got to believe it,” Chief Simms said. “What you believe or don’t believe don’t change what we know.”

“Look, the bottom line is that you let me up in the tower or I’m going to go to the police and let them decide how to proceed from here.”

“Let him go,” Dr. Grey said in a whisper.

Mr. Trilling, Mr. Brackett, and Chief Simms all exclaimed “What?” at the exact same moment with such perfect synchronicity that it would have been comical under other circumstances.

“We can’t let law enforcement get involved in this,” Dr. Grey said, regaining his composure and authority. “And it has become painfully obvious that Mr. Stevenson won’t drop this matter until his curiosity has been satisfied. So let him go. He knows the risks.”

“Thank you,” Alec said.

The president walked over to Alec and stared into his eyes. “But before you go, I want you to ask yourself one question, are you sure you want to do this?”

***

Alec wasn’t sure he wanted to do this.

Not that he was afraid he’d step up into the tower and melt away into nothing, but these men seemed more than a little unstable. What if he got up in the tower and they locked him in?

He had his cell phone on him, should anything happen.

Mr. Trilling climbed the stairs to the tower’s trapdoor and used a key to remove the padlock, sitting in on the top step. Then he made his way back down the stairs and stepped aside. “Have at it.”

“No one coming with me?” Alec asked with a small, somewhat sadistic smile. None of the other men would meet his gaze.

Alec hurried up the steps, feeling oddly excited now that he was finally going to get into the tower after such a protracted quest. He pushed open the trapdoor, hesitated to lend the moment a bit more drama, then stepped up into the tower.

There wasn’t much to see, really. After all the effort he’d expended trying to gain access, it was rather disappointing. The tower was split into two levels. The first level consisted of a platform circling the skylight. A narrow staircase led up to an identical second level. The walls were painted plain white.

Alec started toward the stairs to the upper level, pulling out his cell phone to take a few photos. He was finally getting what he needed for his story idea. Although his desire to get into the tower had ceased to have anything to do with the potential book and more to do with getting what was denied him. A childish motivation, perhaps, but despite finding nothing of particular interest up here, it still felt good to have reached his goal.

As he climbed to the upper level, he paused by one of the tall windows and looked out across campus. The view was quite stunning. He could see all the way to Lake Limestone, down by the dining hall, and he was struck anew by the college’s picturesque grounds.

Something caught in his eyelashes, a piece of dust perhaps, and he blinked it away. He felt several cold spots on his arms and looked down to see droplets of water. Was the roof leaking? He glanced toward the ceiling and gasped at the snowflakes fluttering down from above. Big, fat white flakes drifting down at first but then began to really pour.

Which was insane.

It didn’t snow this time of year, certainly not indoors. Still, the snow rained down so hard he couldn’t even make out the ceiling. He glanced back toward the stairs, ready to call out to the men gathered down on the fourth floor, but he couldn’t even make out the walkway. There seemed to be inches worth of snow and ice already built up. It didn’t make any sense. Alec moved forward slowly, feeling along for the stairs he knew had to be close.

There was no end in sight.

Large drifts of snow, as tall him, rose up on either side to create a valley through which he walked. The frigid air made his breath come out in thick plumes. Dressed in only jeans and a light shirt, Alec wrapped his arms around himself for warmth, shivering violently. The exposed skin of his arms and face already felt numb.

In the distance Alec thought he detected a flickering orange glow, a beacon in the oppressive darkness. He started toward it, stumbling several times along the way. Alec felt like he’d already walked for at least an hour, but he wasn’t sure. His joints were stiff, and he found moving a chore, but he trudged on.

Alec arrived at what looked to be an ice wall, with a fissure at the base opening into a cave. He ducked through the entrance and found himself in a narrow tunnel sloping down into an open cavern. In the very center of the space was a fire, the smoke drifting up, into an opening high above. A young woman sat by the fire, bundled up in layers of clothes. Thin and pale, her curly brown hair fell over her shoulders. Meat had been jammed onto a stick, roasting over the fire. She was surrounded by a few books and an ornate silver music box that sat on top of a rock.

“Hello,” she said, quietly. “Come get warm before you freeze to death.”

Alec shuffled forward, dropping to his knees in front of the fire. He was so cold he wanted to dive headfirst into the flames, but he settled for getting as close as he could without actually burning himself. He allowed the heat to bake into him and thaw his flesh.

“What is your name?” the woman asked.

“Alec Stevenson. Are you Melanie Grey?”

She seemed a bit stunned. “I am. Did you come through the tower?”

“Yes, I did. Your father is very worried about you.”

“My father,” she whispered, tears glistening in her eyes. “How long have I been gone?”

“Three or four months, I think.”

“It’s hard to tell, there is no day or night here.”

Alec still clutched his cell phone. Unclenching his fingers was painful, but he did it anyway.

“Your phone won’t work here,” Melanie said matter-of-factly. Alec tried it nonetheless, but couldn’t even get the phone to turn on. “I’m sorry you got stuck here, too,” Melanie said, wearing a sad smile, “but I must admit, I’m glad to have someone to talk to again.”

“There were two others here before,” Alec said, not quite a question.

“Yes, Lester and Pete. Pete died shortly after I arrived. He got very sick, was coughing up blood. Lester and I weren’t sure what was wrong with him, but after a few days of screaming and crying, he went to sleep and didn’t wake up.”

“Is that what happened to Lester?”

“No, Lester gave up hope. While I was sleeping a few days ago—or maybe longer, like I said it’s hard to keep track of time here—he slit his wrists with a pocketknife he had with him.”

Alec didn’t know what to say to that, so he stared into the flames for several minutes. Finally he said, “How did you start the fire?”

“Pete had a cigarette lighter with him, and this cave is full of sticks and twigs. Of course, the lighter is almost out of fluid. I’m not sure what I’ll do when it runs out entirely.”

Reaching into his pocket, Alec pulled out a half-used book of matches. “Isn’t much, but it’s something.”

Melanie smiled. “You wouldn’t happen to have a steak and baked potato in your pocket as well, would you?”

“Afraid not.” Eyeing the meat roasting over the fire, Alec went on, “Speaking of which, what are you surviving on?”

Melanie looked uncomfortable and stared off toward the cave’s only entrance. “I . . . I’ve had to make d
o
.”

Alec didn’t pursue the topic any further. He scooted a bit closer to the fire. Ice had collected in his hair and was now melting and running down his face like tears. “Do you think there’s a way out of here?”

“There has to be,” Melanie said with conviction. “If there’s a way in, there has to be a way back. Periodically I go out searching for it, but I can only go so far. If I lose sight of the fire, I may never be able to find my way back here.”

Alec nodded. The aroma of the cooking meat caused his stomach to grumble loud as thunder.

“Want some?” Melanie asked, waving the stick his way. “There’s plenty to share.”

Alec shook his head vigorously, thinking about Lester and Pete and wondering where their bodies were.

“You say that now,” Melanie said. “You’ll change your tune when the hunger pangs start. I hope there’s some left when the time comes.”

A black despair settled over Alec. It was like he’d stepped into one of his own horror novels. Maybe that was how he needed to think of this situation; if he thought of this as a plotline, perhaps he could come up with a solution, a way out, a happy ending.

When Melanie dug into her meal, Alec looked away, wondering if he’d ever get home again.

***

“I wonder if they’ll ever get home again,” Chief Simms said as he snapped the padlock back into place.

EXPECTANT

March

Rhonda Little checked her reflection one final time before answering the door. She hadn’t been on a date since she and Steven broke up last year. She felt horribly out of practice, anxious, too.

Putting on her most brilliant smile to mask her jitters, she opened the door and said, “Hi there.”

“Hello,” Darren said, looking exceedingly dapper in his orange turtleneck and dark khaki pants. He was a copy editor at Unrequited Press, the company that published Rhonda’s series of historical romance novels. He’d begun flirting with her three months ago, and while Rhonda had enjoyed the attention, she’d never expected it to go further.

“Do you want to come in?” Rhonda asked, hoping it wouldn’t be misconstrued as an invitation of a more illicit sort. It had been so long, she wasn’t sure what the rules were for dating these days.

“Actually I have tickets for the symphony. We should be going if we’re going to get there on time.”

“The symphony, I’m impressed. Let me grab my wrap.”

“Oh, and you might want to find a vase.”

“A vase? For what?”

“For these,” Darren said, pulling a bouquet of daffodils from behind his back.

“Darren, they’re lovely.”

“Just a token.”

Rhonda took the flowers and held them close to her face, breathing in their sweet perfume. Her nose twitched as she inadvertently inhaled spores or pollen. She sneezed three times in rapid succession, demurely into the palm of her hand.

Darren frowned. “Dear, I hope that’s not a bad omen.”

“Not at all,” Rhonda said, smiling. “Excuse me, I’ll be right back.”

After depositing the daffodils into a crystal vase on the coffee table and grabbing her best black wrap with the pearl clasp, she linked her arm through Darren’s and allowed him to escort her to his car.

May

Rhonda sat on the edge of the bed with her best friend, Anna, staring at the plastic stick in her hand.

“Are we happy or sad?” Anna asked, placing a comforting hand on Rhonda’s shoulder.

Rhonda smiled weakly and said, “Mostly we’re dazed, but with a side of happy, I guess.”

“Are you going to try to get in touch with Darren?”

“He never even bothered to call me after our one date. If he didn’t want anything to do with me, I don’t know why I should think he’d want anything to do with a baby.”

“Screw him,” Anna said. “You make a good living, and you’ve got Auntie Anna here to help out. This kid’s going to have a great life. She’s damned lucky to have you for a mother.”

“She?” Rhonda asked with a raised eyebrow. “You’ve already determined the sex, have you?”

“It’s a feeling. Call it a sixth sense or whatever you want, but I have a hunch you’re going to have a little girl.”

Rhonda smiled and hugged her friend, though she knew Anna was wrong. She didn’t know how she knew, but she had no doubt that the child she carried was a boy.

Rhonda didn’t tell Anna this, however. Like she didn’t tell Anna she hadn’t had sex with Darren. Oh, she’d wanted to, she’d made advances on their date, but he had rebuffed all her attempts at seduction.

Rhonda hadn’t had sex with anyone in the past year and a half.

September

“Could I have some more rolls, please?” Rhonda asked the waiter as he passed.

“Slow down, girl,” Anna said from across the table, nibbling on her Caesar salad. “You’re not going into hibernation, no need to stuff yourself to last all winter.”