Afraid (12 page)

Julie's heart beat faster as she stood on tiptoe and pulled the jacket down. It smelled faintly of perfume, and she tried to imagine her cousin wearing it. There was a handkerchief in one pocket, a plain white square of linen with nothing to identify it as Vicki's. But when she reached into the other pocket, she found a small piece of colored cardboard.

“Saddlepeak Lodge—Fifth Annual Turkey Trap Shoot.” Julie read the words aloud. It was a ticket of some sort. There was a date stamp on the ticket, and Julie gasped as she noticed it was December eighteenth. Donna had told her that Vicki had committed suicide on the night of December eighteenth!

Julie's hands were trembling as she turned the ticket over and saw the message that someone had scrawled on the back.
Vicki—Meet me tonight—R.

The handwriting was bold, and Julie was almost sure that “R” was a man. But who? And did he have something to do with her cousin's death? Perhaps there was another clue, somewhere in this room.

All thoughts of sleep left Julie's mind as she examined the rest of the room. The vanity yielded nothing of importance, just a perfume sample from a department store, and several hair clips. There was nothing under the cushions of the chaise longue, and the drawers in the bathroom looked as if they'd been recently cleaned. There was a small bottle of aspirin in the medicine cabinet, but the seal on the cover was still intact. And the miniature bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and hand cream all bore the Saddlepeak Lodge logo. It was clear that someone had removed all of Vicki's belongings. The room was bare, except for the entertainment center.

Julie stared at the collection of records and tapes and CDs for a moment, and then she shook her head. She didn't feel like searching through every record cover, tape box, and CD carrier for something that might not be there. She'd save that task for the morning, when there was more light.

Although she still wasn't sleepy, Julie decided to get ready for bed. Then she could watch television, or listen to music until she fell asleep. She hung her clothes on hangers, and put on the warm flannel nightgown that Aunt Caroline had given her. Then she slipped into the green velour robe and sat down on the bed to pull on the green fuzzy slippers.

Suddenly a thought struck Julie, and she smiled. If Aunt Caroline and Uncle Bob had kept Vicki's things, they might have packed them up and moved them to the fifth floor. Aunt Caroline had mentioned that they used the fifth floor for storage. And she'd told Julie that when her parents' trunks had arrived, they'd stored them there. She could always tell her aunt that she wanted to go through some of her parents' things, and that would give her a perfect excuse to explore the attic.

But perhaps it wouldn't be an excuse. She might be able to use some of her parents' things to decorate her room. Julie tried to recall all the things she'd packed, and she smiled as she thought of their elephant collection. Ever since she'd been old enough to go on shopping trips with her parents, they'd looked for elephants in every corner of the world. There was a beautiful carved wooden elephant from Africa, one made of fine Czechoslovakian glass, a hand-sewn patchwork elephant they'd bought in India, and a delicate bone china miniature from France. There was even one she'd found in Zurich and shipped to her parents, a comical little creature made out of stuffed leather. There were so many, Julie couldn't remember them all. But she did remember all the fun they'd had shopping for new elephants to add to their collection.

But where would she put them? Julie smiled as she saw that the top shelf of the entertainment center was bare. The elephant collection would add character to her room, and it would be a reminder of all the places they'd lived and visited when her parents were alive.

Moonlight streamed in from the balcony windows, and Julie walked over to the double French doors to look out at the mountains. Since her room was on the fourth floor, she had an unobstructed view of the slopes. Aunt Caroline had told her that every room at Saddlepeak Lodge had a balcony with a mountain view.

Julie had been impressed when Aunt Caroline had shown her their quarters. Heavy antique wooden doors separated their section from the rest of the lodge, and inside was a lovely, spacious apartment with a living room, dining room, kitchen, den, and two bedrooms, each with its own bath.

The view from the balcony windows was too compelling to resist, but when Julie attempted to open the French doors, she found they were stuck. On closer examination, she realized that two long pieces of metal had been installed on the frame, one at the top and one at the bottom, held in place by thumb screws. It wasn't a pretty lock, but it was very effective. With the thumb screws in place, no one could open the doors from the outside.

Had Cousin Vicki been afraid that someone would break into her room? Julie shivered slightly as she gazed out at the mountains. She'd ask Donna about the lock in the morning, but if there had been a break-in at the lodge, it seemed doubtful that it had occurred on the fourth floor.

Julie sighed and loosened the thumb screws. The pieces of metal swung easily to the side, and she stepped out on the balcony. Another mystery. Saddlepeak Lodge seemed to be full of them.

A bright, full moon rode low in the sky, casting dark purple shadows on the silent grounds below. Off in the distance, the mountains loomed so large, it felt almost as if she could touch them. It was the second week of October, and in the mountains, there was frost in the air.

Julie smiled as she looked out at the jagged peaks of the Rocky Mountains. It was lovely scenery, and she could hardly wait for the snow to fall. Then Saddlepeak Lodge would turn into a ski resort, and Julie was an excellent skier. Perhaps she could help her aunt and uncle by offering her services as a ski instructor.

There was a slight sound, and Julie turned to look at the neighboring balconies. Someone was standing at the rail, one balcony to her right. She tried to remember who had the room next to hers. There were small brass plaques on the doors, and Julie had read the names as she'd walked down that side of the hall with her aunt. Mrs. Robinson, the cook, had the room on the end, next to the elevator. She was a heavy-set woman with a jolly face who had told Julie to come to the restaurant kitchen anytime she pleased. The Larkins were next. They were both tall and thin, with the same shade of dark gray hair. He was a general handyman, and she ran the curio shop on the ground floor.

The third room and fourth rooms were vacant. Uncle Bob had knocked out the connecting wall to make a lounge for the live-in employees with a large-screen television and kitchen facilities. And the fifth room belonged to Red Dawson. His real name was Oliver, but everyone called him Red. With an R. Could Red Dawson have written that note to Vicki? Aunt Caroline had said that he'd been preoccupied with her.

Julie considered it for a moment, and then she shrugged. Vicki had never dated Red Dawson; Aunt Caroline had told her that. There was no reason to think that'd he'd written that note. She peered over at the shadowy figure on the adjacent balcony and concentrated on remembering the name plaques. And then she smiled. It was Ross Connors' room, and he was right next door to her!

Should she make a sound to let Ross know she was out here? He was terribly handsome, and she knew he'd been interested in her before he'd discovered who she was. Julie debated the pros and cons for a moment, and then she decided to stay silent, at least for tonight. She'd ask Donna some questions about Ross in the morning, and find out exactly what sort of guy he was.

Even though her robe was warm, Julie shivered a bit. Ross Connors . . . he could be the mysterious R on the note she'd found in Vicki's jacket pocket. The time frame was right. Donna had mentioned that Ross had been working at the lodge ever since he'd graduated from high school. And Ross had told her that she reminded him of someone he used to know.

A door closed, and Julie glanced over at the neighboring balcony. Ross had gone back inside. Then she noticed that only a few feet separated her balcony from his. It would be simple for an athletic person to hop from one balcony to the next. And Ross certainly looked like an athletic person. Something had frightened Vicki so badly that she'd installed a lock on her balcony door? Was it possible that her cousin had been afraid of Ross Connors?

H
er long blond hair whipped from side to side in the pale moonlight as the night wind blew in the open window. She was driving down a curving mountain road, taking the hairpin turns much faster than safety allowed. Tears filled her eyes and flowed in narrow, glistening streams down her cheeks. There was no help for her, no way out except this.

The white lane markers blurred beneath her tires, stretching into one continuous line in the night. Trees whipped past her at the side of the road, too fast to really see. The world was spinning, and she didn't have the courage to stop it. But she wasn't afraid. She'd made up her mind and this was her final decision. Suddenly she felt powerful and able to defy the earthly bounds of gravity. She was invincible. Nothing could hurt her now. It seemed she could lift the car through sheer force of will and speed away to capture the stars.

Then a sound intruded, a noise that made her breath catch in her throat. The car swerved sharply as the tires blew out. Two of them. And miraculously, that sound brought her back to harsh reality.

She wrenched the steering wheel in an attempt to steer out of the skid. Now that the final moment was here, she knew she'd made a terrible mistake. She wanted to wear the new dress she'd bought last week for the Christmas dance. She wanted to listen to the hottest new band, go to the premiere of a movie and walk down the red carpet, and swim in the ocean at midnight. She wanted to kiss her mother and tell her that she loved her. She wanted to help clear the table, brush her hair, take a shower, polish her nails, do all the little mundane things she'd never thought she'd miss. She wanted to live!

Frantically she pumped the brakes. Nothing there. The pedal went all the way to the floor and the car was racing, swerving, screeching at heart-stopping speed toward the guard rail. There was a splintering crash as the guard rail shattered and the car teetered on the brink of the cliff. She shoved hard on the door. There was still time to jump out. But the door was jammed. She was trapped! And then the earth crumbled away under the weight of the tires and she was hurtling over the edge of the cliff into the darkness, screaming and whimpering, crying out for someone, anyone, to save her!

“Julie? Are you up yet?”

There was a knock on the door, and Julie sat bolt upright in bed. It took her a moment to shake off the nightmare, another moment to remember where she was. Her mother's voice? No, it was Aunt Caroline. And she was knocking on the door of Julie's room at Saddlepeak Lodge.

“Julie? You'd better hurry. Donna just called, and she's coming over to walk you to school.”

Julie hopped out of bed and raced for the door. She opened it a crack and smiled at her aunt. “Thanks, Aunt Caroline. I'll be ready just as soon as I can. When is she coming?”

“Right away. It'll take her about fifteen minutes to walk up here. I told Mrs. Robinson to make breakfast for two.”

“Great. I'll be down in less than ten minutes.” Julie shut the door and raced for the bathroom. She'd always been a late sleeper so she had her morning routine all worked out. She'd take a quick shower, put on the clothes she'd chosen last night, and be downstairs by the time Donna arrived. Luckily, her suitcases had arrived only a day later than the airline had promised. It was disturbing enough to look like Vicki; she didn't want to dress in Vicki's clothes for any longer than necessary.

As she hurried past the balcony doors, Julie looked out and gasped. It had snowed during the night, and the grounds below were covered by a soft, white blanket. The sun was shining brightly and the snow glistened as if it had been sprinkled with diamonds. What a great morning for her first day of school!

Julie didn't think about the nightmare again until she'd dressed in her favorite soft lavender sweater and skirt. It was the same terrifying dream she'd had for the past three nights. It had started on her first night at Saddlepeak Lodge, and each successive night, it had grown in detail.

The first night Julie had experienced the horrifying sensation of falling from a great height, and she'd sat up in bed, heart pounding, with a scream on her lips. The second night, she'd been in the car with Vicki, and she'd heard the guard rail splinter before the heart-stopping fall. Those two nightmares had been horrible. But the one she'd had last night had been even worse.

Julie shuddered as she remembered. Last night she had taken her cousin's place and shared her hopeless, suicidal thoughts. She had driven the car, felt the wind on her face, seen the landscape whip past at shocking speed. She'd changed her mind at the last minute and tried to save her life, but she hadn't succeeded. The car had gone over the cliff with her inside.

Had Vicki changed her mind? Had she wrenched the wheel and pumped the useless brakes? There was no way to know, now that Vicki was dead. And to dwell on the question of whether her cousin had gone to her death intentionally or reluctantly was an exercise in futility.

The intercom beeped twice, her aunt's signal that Donna had arrived. Julie brushed her hair back, secured it with the hammered silver barrette, and sighed as she left her room. She had to find some way to stop these awful nightmares. They were making her jumpy and out of sorts; now she was always dreading the moment when she'd fall asleep for fear the nightmare would come again. And it had, three nights running. It was as if her cousin were trying to send her a message from the grave.

Julie shook off the ridiculous thought, and sighed as she walked down the hallway to the elevator. She'd never believed in restless spirits or messages from the hereafter, and she wasn't about to start now. But she did want to know why Vicki had chosen to end her life.

Donna had filled in some of the blanks, but what Julie had learned didn't make much sense. Vicki'd had every reason in the world to be happy. She'd been blessed with loving parents, a beautiful place to live, nice clothes, and even her own car. She had been a good student, and Donna had told her that she'd been the most popular girl in her class. Why would someone like Vicki commit suicide?

The elevator doors opened, and Julie stepped inside. As she pushed the button for the ground floor, she thought about Donna's brother, Paul and a fleeting smile crossed her face. Vicki had gone steady with him for over a year, and Paul certainly hadn't made a good impression as far as Julie was concerned. He was handsome enough, but he was definitely unfriendly. He'd frowned at her every time they'd run into each other at the lodge, and when she'd tried to be sociable, he'd acted as if she was poison. If she had to spend all her time with Paul, as Vicki had done, she might just decide to end it all, too!

 

“Well? What do you think?” Donna picked up a bowl of chef salad and dumped on a huge ladle of honey mustard dressing.

“I like it.” Julie dished up some macaroni and cheese, and laughed. “The school, that is. I'm not so sure about this macaroni and cheese.”

“It's not bad if you put some pepper on it. Drinks are over here, in the cooler.”

Donna led the way to a cooler at the far end of the line where cartons of juice, milk, and soft drinks were kept. “Did you get fifth period history?”

“I got all of your classes.”

“Great!” Donna grinned at her. “See that table for four over there? Let's stake it out.”

Julie liberated a carton of orange juice and followed Donna to the table. But two boys were headed for the same table, and the moment Julie recognized the taller of the two, she stopped.

“What's the matter?” Donna turned to stare at her.

“Uh . . . nothing. That's your brother, isn't it?”

“Right. We usually eat lunch together. I save a table for him if I get there first, and he does the same for me.”

“Oh.” Julie nodded and followed Donna through the crowded lunchroom toward the table. She really didn't want to eat lunch with Paul, but it might offend Donna if she said so.

“Hi, guys.” Donna plunked down her tray and grinned at her brother. Then she turned to Julie. “Julie Forrester? Dave Wilkins.”

“Hey . . .” The heavy-set, dark-haired boy plunked his tray on the table and turned to look up at Julie. “Glad to meet . . .”

Julie watched as his mouth dropped open. He blinked once, twice, and then he cleared his throat. “Sorry. You look just like . . .”

“Vicki Hudson.” Julie supplied the name. Then she smiled at him. He looked like a very nice guy. “I'm Vicki's cousin, and you're the thirty-seventh person to say that today.”

“Sorry. But seeing you here really shocked me. For a second, I thought you were . . .”

“Vicki's ghost.” Julie smiled again. “And you're the twenty-sixth person to say that.”

“At least I'm original.” Dave laughed, and then he turned to Paul. “Come on, Rock. They just set out some apple pie. Let's get some before it's all gone.”

Paul frowned as he got to his feet. “Don't call me Rock!”

“Okay, okay. I forgot.” Dave turned back to Julie. “Want me to bring you a piece?”

“I'd love some, thanks.”

“Me, too.” Donna glanced at her brother, who was already walking toward the lunch line. His back was stiff, his posture tense. “Watch it, Dave. He hates it when anybody calls him Rock.”

Dave gave her the high sign, and hurried to catch up with Paul. Julie stared after them for a moment, and then she turned to Donna. “Is Rock his nickname?”

“Not anymore. That's what Vicki used to call him. We double-dated a couple of times, and Dave picked it up from her. Nobody's called him Rock since she died.”

“I see.” Julie nodded. But she didn't have time to ask any more questions. Dave was coming back to the table, juggling two plates of pie.

“Here you go.” Dave set one plate down in front of Julie and gave Donna the other. “Paul's coming with ours. He just stopped to find out if there's football practice on Saturday.”

When Paul got back to the table, Julie smiled at him. She'd try to be friendly one more time and see what happened. “Dave just mentioned football practice. Are you on the team?”

“He's the best quarterback Crest Ridge High ever had!” Donna gave her brother a fond punch on the arm. “To look at him now, you'd never know he spent two years on crutches.”

Paul looked embarrassed. “You don't have to tell her my whole life story. Julie wouldn't be interested.”

“Oh, but I am! Tell me, Donna.”

Donna grinned as she launched into what was obviously a familiar story. “Paul was in the hospital for a whole year when he was ten. That's why he's older than anyone else in the senior class: He got hit by a logging truck and now he's bionic.”

“Bionic?”

Donna nodded. “The doctors replaced his knee. They didn't think he'd ever be able to walk again, but look at him now. He plays football, and baseball, and basketball. And he even dances!”

“Only when I'm forced to by my bratty sister. And that's because she can't find anybody else to dance with her.”

Now it was Donna's turn to look embarrassed. “That was only once, when I was in ninth grade. Now I know plenty of boys who are dying to dance with me. Right, Dave?”

“Oh, sure.” Dave nodded solenmly. “If we don't ask her to dance, Paul beats up on us.”

“He does not!” Donna glared at him. Then she turned to look at Paul. “Do you?”

“Of course.”

They burst into laughter and Julie joined in. Paul seemed different here at school. He actually seemed to have a sense of humor. Perhaps she'd judged him too harshly?

Dave smiled at Julie. “What classes are you taking?”

“I have the same schedule as Donna.”

Donna nodded. “That's so she can keep me from flunking. She's even promised to help me with French. Did you guys know that the French word for fish is poison?”

“That's
poisson,
not poison.” Julie grinned at her. “But it might be hard to tell under all those sauces.”

Paul laughed, and Julie noticed that he looked a little friendlier. Perhaps he was beginning to see her as Julie, and not just a carbon copy of Vicki.

Just as Julie popped the last bite of food into her mouth, the bell rang signaling the end of the lunch period. She picked up her tray and carried it over to the counter where Donna was waiting. Then she turned back to get her books. But Paul had them under one arm, and he was waiting for her at the door of the lunchroom.

“Thanks, again.” Julie took her books and smiled. And then she said something stupid, something she never would have said if she'd taken the time to think. “Did you carry Vicki's books for her?”

Paul frowned and shook his head. “She never brought her books to lunch. She always left them in her locker.”

“Well . . .” Julie thought fast. “J guess that proves I'm not exactly like my cousin.”

Paul looked a little uncertain. “Did you mean that about helping Donna with her French?”

“Of course.”

“Maybe you're not like Vicki. She never would have helped anybody with anything. Vicki was out for one thing, and that was herself!”

“Come on. Let's go!” Donna rushed up and grabbed Julie's arm. “If we don't hurry, we'll be late. And Mr. Jenkins is a real crab. He'll give us detention if we're not in our seats when the bell rings.”

As they rushed down the hall toward their classroom, Julie was smiling. She'd learned an important fact. Paul could be very nice if he wanted to be. The other fact she'd learned at lunch didn't sink in until Mr. Jenkins had launched into a boring lecture about the Civil War. Rock was Vicki's nickname for Paul. Rock . . . with an “R.” Paul could be the R who'd written that note, the one who'd met Vicki on the night she'd died. He could even be the person who'd driven her cousin to suicide!