Party Summer (15 page)

The three teenagers found themselves in a large sitting room, furnished in white leather and chrome, not at all the rustic style of the rest of the hotel. A long, sleek couch was flanked by an armchair and a recliner, all modern and white. A low glass coffee table in front of the couch held a silver teapot and several china cups, half-filled. A white wooden desk had been built into the wall behind the couch.

Two doors against the back wall appeared to lead to other rooms. “It's a suite,” Eric said, his eyes ranging around the large room. “Maybe Simon, Edward, and the woman share it.”

“But where is Simon?” Cari asked, forcing the room not to spin. She grabbed the back of the white leather couch. It felt cool and smooth in her hands and helped to restore her calm a little.

“They
must
have been in the front room,” Eric said. “We heard them arguing here.”

“Maybe Simon crawled into one of the back rooms,” Cari suggested.

“But there's no blood,” Craig said, pacing the
plush white carpet. “No sign of a struggle. No sign of
anything!”

“Come on—let's check out the other rooms,” Eric said as confused as Cari and Craig. Without waiting for them, he ran to the door on the left. Cari reluctantly followed, her throat tightening, dread making her heavy, as if she weighed a thousand pounds, as if she couldn't take another step.

She didn't want to see Simon's corpse. She didn't want to be there. She had a sudden impulse to run out of the room, down the hall, back to the safety of her room. But she didn't want to be alone either.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to step through the doorway. It led into a small, cluttered bedroom. A lamp on the bedside table cast yellow light over the room. An unmade bed, the covers wrinkled and bunched together at the foot, stood against one wall. Stacks of books and magazines and old newspapers stretched across another wall. Articles of clothing, all wrinkled and worn, were tossed all over the floor.

This must be Edward's room, she thought.

“Simon's not in here,” Eric said, shaking his head. “Weird.”

Cari tried to say something, but no words came out.

They hurried back to the sitting room and then tried the door to the right. It led to another, larger bedroom that Craig was already exploring. This room, Cari saw, was neat and pristine. The bed had been made and was covered with a beautiful antique quilt.

“Not in here,” Craig said and shrugged. “No Simon. No woman,” he said, dropping down onto the edge of the bed.

“But that's impossible!” Eric cried. “Cari and I heard them—”

He stopped in midsentence and turned to Cari, his face filled with confusion. “A body can't disappear into thin air—
can
it?”

“H
ave we entered the Twilight Zone?” Cari asked. She plopped down beside Craig on top of the antique quilt.

“Now wait a minute. Wait a minute,” Eric said, talking loudly, rapidly, pacing back and forth in front of them. “We're just not thinking clearly. We've got to calm down. Got to think clearly.”

“Eric—please,” Cari pleaded. “You're making me even more nervous by pacing like that.”

“Got to think clearly,” he said, ignoring her, continuing to pace and think out loud. “We heard the argument from out in the hall. All three of them were arguing, remember? Then the gunshot. Then Edward came running out.”

“Edward must have dragged the body someplace,” Craig said, shifting his weight uncomfortably on the bed. “Eric is right. We're just not thinking clearly. The body is here. Somewhere.”

“Let's do a better job of searching,” Eric said, stopping his frantic pacing to see if the others approved his idea. “You know. Look under the beds. In the closets.”

“No way. We've got to get out of here!” Craig said, his eyes on the door. “If Edward comes back and finds us snooping around here—well, he's still got the rifle, you know. And he's used it once already.”

“We'll be fast,” Eric said. “Come on. We'll split up. I'll take the messy bedroom. That must be Edward's.”

“But, Eric—” Cari called.

Too late. Eric had darted out the door.

“Well, I'll search the front room,” Cari said reluctantly. “But I don't think I'll find anything.”

“Okay,” Craig replied. “I'll look around in this room. The neat room. It's probably Simon's.” He dropped to the floor and raised the quilt so he could see under the bed. “I just don't understand why—”

Eric's shout from the other bedroom interrupted Craig. “Hey—I found something!”

The words cut deep into Cari.

Had Eric found Simon's body?

The room was a blur as she hurried into Edward's room, Craig close behind.

“Look at this,” Eric said excitedly as they entered. He was holding a large photo album in his hands. “This is really interesting. Look.”

The others moved closer so they could see. “A bunch of old snapshots,” Cari said, confused.

“They're all so dark. This album must be a hundred years old.”

“Not quite. Look who's in here,” Eric said. Balancing the heavy album on one upraised knee, he pointed to a photo glued in the upper-right corner of the page.

Cari and Craig squeezed closer to get a better view.

Cari recognized the front of the hotel in the old photograph. The Howling Wolf Inn hadn't changed a bit. A big sedan in front of the main entrance looked as if it were from the fifties. It was a spring day. A young man and woman stood leaning against the fancy car.

“Why, that's Simon,” Cari said. “I hardly recognized him with black hair.”

“Yeah, he looks exactly the same, except for the hair,” Eric said. “And look who's with him.”

“It's Jan's Aunt Rose!” Cari exclaimed. “Let me read what it says.” She pulled the book away from Eric to read the caption that someone had written in bold black ink.

“My distant cousin Rose. I wish we weren't so distant.”

“Distant cousin?” Cari's face filled with disbelief as she handed the heavy album back to Eric.

“Rose and Simon Fear are cousins,” Eric said.

The three of them considered this for a few seconds. “That means that Rose and Edward are also cousins,” Cari said thoughtfully. She glanced up from the photo album at the two boys. “You don't suppose …”

“That Rose knew what was going on here?” Eric
finished her thought for her. “That Rose knew what a frightening place this was?”

“Maybe she wasn't really sick!” Craig added excitedly. “Maybe Rose was working with Edward. And Martin too. Maybe Rose lured us here for some reason.”

“And that's why Jan hasn't been able to reach her,” Eric said. “That's why Rose hasn't called. She knew about this place. She must be working with Edward to—”

“Whoa!” Cari cried. “Cool your jets. Let's not get carried away. We have no reason to suspect Rose.”

“But why didn't she ever mention that she's a Fear?” Craig asked. “Why didn't she ever tell us? Why did she keep it a secret?”

“Craig is right,” Eric agreed quickly. “She deliberately didn't tell us that she's related—in some way—to the two Fear brothers.”

“Hey—that means Jan is related to them too!” Cari suddenly realized.

“No wonder she's so interested in ghosts and creepy things,” Craig said.

“Maybe Jan has been in on the plan too,” Eric said thoughtfully. “Maybe she and her aunt
both
lured us here.”

“But why?” Cari asked. “I can't imagine why—”

A noise from the hallway made Eric drop the photo album. It hit the floor with a loud thud that almost made Cari's heart stop.

“Ohh!”

They froze in place and listened.

No one came in.

“We've got to get out of here,” Craig pleaded.

“Craig's right. We're not accomplishing anything by looking at an old photo album,” Cari said to Eric. “We've got to call the police on Willow Island. Let
them
search the rooms.”

“Maybe there's a trapdoor somewhere in here,” Eric said, not listening to her. “Edward shot Simon. Then he pulled the trapdoor and Simon slid out of sight.”

“But there's no blood,” Craig said. “No blood at all.”

“Come on,” Cari pleaded. “Let's get out of here. Eric, are you coming?”

“In a second,” he said. He was tapping the walls, turning the lamps around, pressing dresser-drawer knobs.

“What are you doing?” Cari asked.

“Trying to find how to open the trapdoor,” Eric said. He flicked the light switch in front of him on the wall.

“Whoa! Look out!”

The bookshelves against the wall began to revolve as if on a turntable. As they turned, they revealed a desk on the other side.

Eric flicked the switch again. The turntable stopped halfway around. Everyone stared, frozen in surprise for a moment. “Look—there's a secret room back there!” Eric cried.

He squeezed into the space between the wall and the desk. “It's like a study. A hidden study back here.”

“Is the body there?” Cari cried. She and Craig
peered into the hidden room, but it was too dark to see.

“No. No body,” Eric said. He had picked up a sheet of paper from the desk. “Whoa. Hold on,” he said, coming back into the room.

His face went pale. His eyes grew wide with disbelief.

“Eric, what is it?” Cari cried. “What's the matter?”

He handed the sheet of paper to her.

It was a letter, written by hand in blue ink. “It's a letter to Jan's aunt,” she said. “Listen. I'll read it out loud.”

She started to read the letter to Craig and Eric in a normal, steady voice. But as its contents became clear, her voice began to tremble.

“‘Dear Rose,'” the letter began. “‘ I am so sorry to tell you that I fear a terrible tragedy has occurred. Your niece Jan and her three friends have disappeared without a trace, without an explanation.

“‘bahave been frantic, wracked with sadness, with fear, with remorse. The police from Willow Island have combed every inch of the island, without success. Without a single clue.

“‘I've been trying to call you night and day. You didn't answer your phone. So I am sending this letter special delivery.

“‘So sorry to send such tragic news by mail. I am saddened and mystified. I pray that the four young people will turn up unharmed. But the police offer little hope. I know that their parents will grieve, as I
do. Rest assured that I am doing everything in my power to discover what has happened to them. I will not stop until the mystery of their disappearance is solved. I pray that they are alive, although all indications are that they tragically are not. I know that you will pray with me.'”

The letter was signed by Edward Fear.

“W
e've got to get out of here!” Cari cried, letting the letter drop to the floor. “He—he plans to kill us!”

“He's crazy! Totally crazy!” Eric said. He picked up the letter and quickly skimmed it again, not willing to believe what he and Cari had read.

“It's got to be some kind of a joke,” Craig said.

“Get real,” Eric told him. “It's no joke. He already killed Simon.”

“Oh, my God! And Jan!” Cari cried, holding her hands up to her face.

“Shouldn't the police be here by now?” Craig asked, still staring at the blue handwriting on the letter. “Why hasn't Martin called the police?”

“Maybe Martin isn't going to call the police,” Eric said thoughtfully. “Maybe he knows what Edward plans for us. Maybe the two of them are in this together.”

“We can't stay here and discuss it,” Cari told them, nodding toward the door. “Let's just get
out
of this place. Away from here—while we still can.”