Sharpened skull fangs, digging into Kyle'sleg ....
No! That wasn't going to happen!
I had to put my kids out of my mind and focus on the problem. Focus on the riddle.
One after the creation of the other.
Letters to grandma and a condom.
What did a letter create?Happiness.Knowledge.Waste paper. What else?Aletterwas a creation, not something that created.
What could possibly be the creation of a condom, besides something icky to throw away after it was used?A sense of security?A sense of protection?
How could any of this relate to the video?
I kicked the wall in frustration.
Okay, I had another problem to deal with. Should I call Helen and tell her that our kids were currently in the hands of a murderer?
All my instincts said no, absolutely not. Because Helen would certainly not sit in her hospital bed and wait for news. She might demand that the police try to find her babies. She might hop into a wheelchair and look herself.
No, I couldn't tell her. It was too dangerous.
If Theresa and Kyle died, she'd hate me forever.
No she wouldn't. She would never hate me.
Ididn'tthink she would.
Anyway, none of this mattered because the kids were going to be fine.One hundred percent fine.
Ihadto stop thinking about them! The riddle was the important thing right now!
"What the hell does it mean?" I said out loud, not caring if anyone overheard me.
By the time the taxi arrived, I still had no answer.
THE LIBRARY wasn't quite on the way home, but it was a small enough detour that I felt reasonably safe in asking the cabbie to drive by where I'd left my car. If it was still there, I'd have access to the physical clues instead of having to rely on my memory.
It had already been towed.
I told the cabbie to take me home.
WHEN I got there I was surprised to find that Helen's car, now sporting a shattered windshield and a broken passenger-side window, was parked in the driveway. At first I thought Roger and the kids hadn't even gotten away from the house before they were jumped, but then I noticed that there was no safety glass on the pavement. The car had been driven back here.
Theresa'sbookbag wasn't inside, but the tape rested on the seat. The killer clearly didn't want me to be without my clue.
The first thing I did after I went inside was dial the number to Michael's cellular phone, hoping the killer would answer. He didn't.
I checked my watch. Eleven o'clock.One hour until I was supposed to be at the taping. One hour to either sit around the house and go absolutely positively totally freaking insane, or collect myself and try to figure out the clue.
The insane option sounded more appealing at the moment, but I forced myself to pop the tape back into the VCR, sit down on the couch, and watch the video again.
It was the same video, and my extra clues didn't provide any additional insights.
I leaned back, closed my eyes, and tried to relax. Maybe I was concentrating too hard. Maybe if I just lay there and let my thoughts flow freely, my subconscious might come up with something.
I tried that for about ten minutes. My subconscious didn't do squat.
I wondered if Theresa was sobbing now.Or screaming.
I watched the entire video yet again.
Nothing.
I paced around the house. Could the killer see me? Were Theresa and Kyle nearby?
And then it was eleven forty-five.Time to go.
CHAMBER DOESN'T have what you would call a slum, but the address was definitely in the poorest section of town. Didn't seem like the kind of area where the residents would have the extra income to pay to be the stars of their own horror movie.
I drove to the very end of the street, past some kids playing basketball using a hoop without netting, and into the driveway of a dilapidated two-story house that looked like it should be located next to an old graveyard at midnight.
There were no other cars in the driveway.
I checked to make sure I had the right address, and then got out of the car. Either everyone else was late, or there wasn't really a taping here.
Could everyone in Ghoulish Delights be in on it?
Or were none of them ever told to come here?
Nobody else had been around when Rachel gave me this address. It could have been a setup from the very beginning.
Well, I'd find out in short order.
I walked up to the front door and rung the doorbell. I didn't hear any buzzing or chiming from inside, so I figured it wasn't working. Not a big surprise. I knocked loudly, waited about thirty seconds, and then knocked again.
No answer. That wasn't a big surprise either.
I tried to peek through the windows, but the curtains were drawn. I tested the doorknob.Unlocked.
Could Theresa and Kyle be in there? Could the killer have made it that easy?
I had to cancel that thought. Even if they were inside, I had a feeling that getting them back would be anything but easy.
I opened the door and stepped inside. If ever a house looked like a perfect site for a haunting, this was it. It had obviously been abandoned for quite some time, as there was a thick layer of dust over everything and cobwebs in every corner. Between the dust and the fading, I couldn't even tell what color the furniture was.
I took a step, and the floorboards creaked. I wondered if this is where I'd been tied to the chair. No, probably not...I hadn't noticed the thick musty scent before that Iwas smelling now. Even with the burlap sack over my head I should have been able to smell it.
The dust wasn't actually everywhere. A reasonably clean path ran from the doorway to the staircase, as if somebody had made several trips back and forth, enough to wipe away the dust and not so few as to leave individual footprints.
I could go ahead and explore the rest of the first floor, but it was pretty clear that if there was anything to find, I'd find it upstairs.
I flipped on the light switch, not really expecting it to work. I was correct. Even with the curtains closed, enough light streamed into the house that I could see where I was going, though upstairs would probably be a different story.
I began to ascend the stairs slowly, one at a time. They groaned with each step, but seemed sturdy and unlikely to collapse and send me plummeting into darkness beneath. A small pile of bones rested on the second-to-last step, possibly belonging to a bird.
At the top of the stairs, I turned left and found myself in a narrow hallway, with two doors on each side, and one door at the end. All of the doors were closed. There were no windows, and the light from downstairs provided only the faintest illumination. If only I'd known I'd be creeping around an abandoned house, I'd have brought a flashlight. I didn't even have Roger's lighter anymore. I could go buy one, I supposed, but there might not be much time. I'd have to make do with the little light available.
I slowly walked over to the first door on the right and opened it. The door made a horrible creak as it swung open, loud enough to awaken any slumbering ghosts. The room hadn't been entered in a long time. Dust covered the crib and the rattles on the floor.
I opened the door on the other side, wincing again at the creak.A bathroom.Vacant.
I continued down the hallway to the second set of doors. The first led to a bedroom. The mattress on the queen-sized bed had been torn apart, with stuffing flung everywhere. I couldn't see well enough to tell if the dust had been disturbed or not.