Funhouse (10 page)

She was not alone in the woods. Someone was following her. The tire-slasher?

She stopped to listen intently. A fluttering sound in the trees overhead reminded her that bats had recently been reported in the area. The reports had frightened her, but Sam had dismissed her fears by saying, “It’s not like you make a habit of wandering around outside after dark.”

Well, no, not usually. Only when all four tires on her car had been slashed.

There! The sound came again, close enough to be heard distinctly. And it
was
footsteps, she was sure of it. It was an exact echo of the plodding, slogging, dragging-through-the-mud sound she herself was making.

Panicking, she tried to hurry. Her heart was pounding so thunderously in her chest she was sure her pursuer could hear it. But she couldn’t quiet her terror.

The sound behind her drew closer. Soft, soft …

Frantic, and sobbing quietly, she tried desperately to run. But her skirt, sweater, and jacket, completely saturated with water, weighed on her like a suit of solid lead. And her feet were imprisoned in a thick coat of gooey mud. Every step she took was a struggle, requiring enormous effort. Running was impossible.

“Te-ess! Oh, Te-ess!”

The voice, so close behind her, shocked her to a standstill. Distorted by the wind and the rain, the voice was unrecognizable. And evil. It was hard to believe that someone she knew well, a friend, could sound like that.

“Te-ess! Wait for me-ee!”

The sing-song was cruel, that of a predator who knows his prey is close at hand—and defenseless.
You’ll have to be punished
…

Tess almost gave up. Soaked to the skin, with water dripping from her hair into her eyes, and mud up to her ankles, surrounded by dark, silent woods and sheets of rain, she thought about simply sinking to the soft ground and waiting for her tormentor to pounce on her. At least then she’d find out who it was.

No!
Maybe he would catch up with her, maybe she didn’t have a chance, maybe he was too cunning to be outsmarted. But she wasn’t giving up without a fight!

Instead of continuing along the path, she veered abruptly, into the deeper, thicker woods sheltering a housing development. She would soon be trespassing on private property, but even a vicious guard dog would be better than what was behind her and closing in rapidly.

She emerged from the woods to see clumps of pale light ahead of her. A surge of hope overtook her. If she could just get to one of those houses …

Renewed hope quickened her steps. The lights grew larger, brighter. She heard a dog barking close by, and turned in that direction. A dog meant a dog owner and a dog owner meant a house and a house meant safety.

Safety. What a beautiful, wonderful word!

She was going to make it.

As she took a step forward, there was a sudden rustling sound behind her and something hit her between the shoulder blades. Already unsure of her footing, the blow threw her off balance, and she fell.

Expecting to hit the ground at any second, she braced herself for the sudden, unpleasant contact with a cold and muddy earth.

Instead, she felt a rush of air and the sensation of space all around her as the earth disappeared beneath her.

She had tumbled into open space. And she was falling, falling. …

I
COULD HAVE FINISHED
her off tonight. Easily. But it’s too soon. I have other plans to carry out before I take care of Tess.

No guilt. This is simple justice. What those men did was atrocious, and they can’t be forgiven. They would never have been punished at all if I hadn’t found the journal.

I read for so many hours that day in the lousy light of the attic, that my head felt like it was ready to split open. But I had to finish. By that time, it was as if she were writing only to me. And I had this feeling that she knew I was reading it.

The baby was born yesterday, right here in the trailer, with the help of Buddy’s doctor. But I never even
saw
my baby! The doctor snatched the baby away the minute it was born, and gave me a shot. I was asleep in a minute or two and when I woke up, hours later, they were gone. All of them. Buddy, the doctor, and my baby. Gone!

Buddy showed up at the door later that night. When I asked him where my baby was, he said, “In its new home.” Then he laid something on the dresser, saying it was a “gift” from the grateful parents, and left, warning me that if I made any attempt to see my baby or reveal who I was, I’d go to prison for a long, long time.

I just sat there in the dark after he left. Then I got up and walked to the dresser. I picked up the gift from the new parents.

It was a check. For a great deal of money. I had sold my baby. I hadn’t meant to, but that was what I’d done.

I tore the check into a million pieces. They’re here, those pieces, taped into the back of this book. They’re the only proof I have of what happened. And I’ve taped in a list of the names of the others, besides Buddy, who were involved:

I can’t fight them. The people who stole The Boardwalk and took my baby are too powerful. Going up against them would be a losing battle. I’m too tired for such a fight. My strength left me for good when they took my baby.

So I’m going to follow Tully. My child will be cared for, and I can only pray that the cruelty its new father showed me will not be exercised on my baby. Can such a man ever love? I can only pray that he can, he and his wife.

Perhaps, some day, someone will find these writings and understand my story. In that hope, I’m hiding this journal in my secret place.

And now, I go to Tully, with a prayer that he, and God, will forgive me.

That was the last entry.

I flipped the pages to the back cover. There, in a small plastic bag fastened with yellowed cellophane tape, were the pieces of paper Lila had talked about, shreds of the check Buddy had left on the dresser after he had taken her baby. And underneath the plastic bag was the list of names she’d mentioned. Every single one of them was familiar. Including my
own
last name. No surprise there. This was just the kind of thing I’d expect my father to be involved in.

Carefully setting the journal aside, I went downstairs to get my own roll of cellophane tape. I was very good at puzzles. I would put the pieces of the baby’s “purchase price” together. And I would have the answer I needed.

T
ESS’S LANDING, WHEN IT
came, was softened by a cushion of muddy water. But still it shocked her, knocking her breathless as she landed on her stomach, face down. Upon impact Tess was completely covered in thick, brown sludge. Pulling herself to a sitting position, she scrubbed her face frantically with her sleeve, and realized she was sitting in several inches of rainwater and mud.

Stunned and shaken, Tess slowly became aware of two other things. One, she was at the bottom of a huge, rectangular mudhole and two, there was a dog somewhere above her, barking furiously. The sound comforted her. With an angry dog close by, would the person who had pushed her dare return?

The first thing she needed to do, she decided, shaking her head to clear it, was escape from this watery prison. Dog or no dog, she couldn’t stay down here.

But the walls of sodden earth were as slippery as glass. Clawing at them desperately provided her with nothing but two thick mittens of mud and deep frustration. Getting a foothold on the walls was equally impossible.

Still, she kept trying, slipping and sliding from spot to spot, searching with her hands and feet for something solid to grasp.

It was hopeless. Giving up, she moved away from the wall and shouted in fury through the sheets of rain to the barking dog, “Quit that stupid barking and go get some help! Didn’t you ever hear of Lassie?” Then, her anger spent, she sank to her knees, tears of frustration and fear mixing with the rain on her face.

The barking stopped.

A fluttering in the air overhead stopped her heart. Bats! She screamed and covered her head with her hands, trying to shrink her body into as small and invisible a target as possible.

Suddenly, a beam of light shone down upon her and a deep voice called from above, “Hey, down there! Couldn’t you wait until the pool was finished?”

Tess shrank back in fear. Who was that? Could it be the person who had been chasing her, who had sent her sailing into this watery hole?

“You okay? I’ll get you out of there, hang on!”

No, this voice belonged to an older person. She didn’t think it was anyone she knew. Maybe she could trust him. She almost laughed aloud hysterically. Wasn’t that backwards? Weren’t you supposed to be able to trust the people you knew, but not talk to strangers? How had everything gotten so screwed up?

“Please!” she called, “please get me out of here! Hurry!”

Something dangled in front of her. She reached out for it. It was a thick rope, waving like a flag of freedom before her.

“Can you climb that?” the voice called.

“No.” She couldn’t. Her strength was gone.

“You weigh much?” The voice belonged to a man. A big, strong one, she hoped.

“No. I’m skinny.”

“Okay then. Just grab on, tight as you can, and I’ll haul you up.”

Tess obeyed. But her normally light weight had been increased by sodden clothing and several layers of mud. The haul upward went slowly. She tried to keep her body away from the wall, but there was nothing solid for her feet to push against, and her face slammed into the oozing wall more than once. Sputtering and spitting, she held onto the rope with every ounce of energy she had left. And finally, finally, she was on firm ground, her weary, shaken body supported by strong arms.

“How on earth did you land down there?” her rescuer asked, removing his tan raincoat and wrapping it around her. He was a big man, and he smiled at her as his flashlight revealed the mud monster she had become.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her teeth chattering, “that I used your pool without your permission. I promise it will never happen again.”

He laughed, and she recognized him. Trudy Slaughter’s father. She had fallen into Trudy’s pool?

“You’re Mr. Slaughter, aren’t you?” she asked as he half led, half carried her toward the house.

“Right. Do I know you? Not that anyone would recognize you right now.”

“I’m Tess Landers.”

“Guy Joe’s girl? You go to school with Trudy, right? Well, Guy Joe’s girl, how did you get into my pool?”

She couldn’t say she’d been pushed. An answer like that would lead to too many questions, maybe even a visit from the police. She had no answers for them. Besides, she couldn’t be that sure that someone had actually pushed her. It could have been a tree branch, blown by the wind, that hit her.

Sure. And The Boardwalk was the safest place in the world.

She couldn’t help wondering, now that she knew how close Trudy lived to these woods, had
she
been the one stalking Tess?

Mr. Slaughter was waiting for an answer to his question.

“My car broke down,” she said. “I was taking a shortcut home, but I didn’t have a flashlight and I guess I got lost.”

He nodded. “Hard to see on a night like this. Good thing Beau here doesn’t like intruders.”

The dog, a sleek Doberman pinscher, trotted along beside them, apparently satisfied that he’d performed his duty well.

When they reached the house, Mr. Slaughter wanted Tess to come inside. “Trudy isn’t home, but I’m sure she’d want you to borrow some dry clothes.”

Well, of course she wasn’t home, Tess thought. She couldn’t go running home so soon after pushing Tess into the pool. She’d have to wait a while, so that no one would know she’d ever been nearby. And Tess had no intention of setting one foot inside Trudy Slaughter’s house.

“I’d really rather go home, Mr. Slaughter. If you could find an old blanket or something to cover the seat, maybe you could drive me home? I wouldn’t want to ruin your upholstery, abominable mudman that I am right now.”

He didn’t argue with her. Tess suspected that he might have if he’d known that Shelley was out of town and Tess was going home to an empty house. So she didn’t volunteer that piece of information.

When they pulled up in front of the condo, Sam’s car was parked beside the stone patio wall. And Sam was in it.

He got out when the Slaughter car arrived. Tess was grateful that he didn’t laugh as she got out of the car. He didn’t look much better, though. He was almost as wet and mud-covered as she was. Her heart sank. Could he have been running around in the woods? After
her,
maybe?

All of this suspicion was making her crazy.

“That your brother?” Mr. Slaughter asked as she got out of the car.

“No. That’s Sam Oliver.”

“Oh. Trent’s boy. Friend of yours, I guess. You’ll be okay, then?”

Friend? Who could be sure?
“It’s okay, Mr. Slaughter,” she said, reaching into the car to hand him his raincoat. “I’ll be fine now. Thanks for everything. And thank Beau for me. Maybe I’ll buy him a nice big bone.”

Apparently convinced that Tess was in good hands with “Trent’s boy,” Mr. Slaughter drove away.

“What happened to you?” Sam asked, removing his windbreaker and draping it across her shoulders. “You look like you just had a mud bath.”

“Close,” she said cryptically. Then she moved to sweep past him with as much dignity as she could muster, but he stepped directly in front of her, blocking her path.

The words
Who will be next?
swam in front of her eyes again, and she felt dizzy. Not Sam, she prayed, don’t let it be Sam.

“I’ll take you to your father’s,” he said. “You can get cleaned up there and get a good night’s sleep.”

No. Maybe she would go to her father’s. Soon. She did want to ask him if any employees had been fired recently from The Boardwalk. But she wasn’t getting in a car with anyone. Not until she knew who was sending her purple poetry and making nasty phone calls and following her.

Because it might not have been Trudy. It could have been Sam.

“I can get cleaned up right here in my own house,” she said defiantly. “We have plenty of soap and water.”