Party Summer (13 page)

It's as if he's brought a chill to the room, Cari thought. He's not making the tiniest attempt to be friendly or pleasant. He's just totally ignoring us.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he abruptly stood up, picked up his hunting rifle, and stalked out without a word. The whole room seemed to brighten, and Cari found herself laughing for no reason at all, just relief.

“He's a load of laughs,” Eric said.

“Simon said he was depressed,” Jan said thoughtfully.

“Well, he sure depressed
me!”
Cari cracked.

All four of them started to talk about Edward at once. Craig did a pretty good impression of Edward rapidly slurping his chowder.

They were still laughing when Martin appeared from the kitchen, appearing even more unpleasant than usual.

“You've got to listen to me!” Martin cried in a loud whisper. “There's not much time.
Please
—you must get out!”

“Huh? Get out of the dining room?” Eric blurted out.

All four of them were confused by Martin's statement.

“You don't understand,” Martin said, still whispering. He started to say something else, but stopped. His eyes grew wide as he stared at the doorway.

Cari turned to see Edward leaning on his rifle, moving quickly back into the dining room. “Making a speech, Martin?” Edward said, more of a growl than a question.

Martin seemed to shrivel up. He hunched his shoulders. His face seemed to disappear into his jacket. “No, sir.”

Edward stared at Martin for what seemed an eternity before Martin cast his eyes down to the floor.

Finally Edward broke the tense silence. “Perhaps you should return to your kitchen duties and stop disturbing Simon's guests,” he said coldly. He shifted his weight, leaning down hard against the stock of the hunting rifle.

“Yes, sir.”

Martin turned quickly and scurried off to the kitchen like a frightened mouse.

A pleased smile crossed Edward's face, but only briefly. It was the first time Cari had seen him smile.

He really enjoyed frightening Martin, Cari thought.

And why is Martin so scared of Edward?

It seemed to Cari that Martin was as hard and cold as Edward. He didn't seem to be the type to play the humble servant and cower like a wimp at his master's stern glance.

But Martin had definitely cowered—and he had scampered away very frightened.

I wish Simon was here, Cari thought, checking
out Eric beside her. He seemed to be thinking the same thing.

Edward's satisfied smile lasted only a brief second. Then his face fell back into its hard scowl, and without a word to the four teenagers, he headed out of the dining room, the hunting rifle tapping loudly.

“This is boring,” Cari groaned. They'd been playing Scrabble in the rec room for over an hour.

“What kind of a word is
dis?”
Jan demanded.

“You know,” Eric said. “I
dissed
you. Edward really
dissed
Martin tonight.” He laughed.

“Give me a break.” Jan tossed a handful of letters at Eric, who toppled off the hassock he'd been sitting on.

All four of them were tossing letter squares at one another when a tall figure appeared in the doorway.

“What a remarkable Scrabble game,” Simon said, chuckling.

He stepped into the center of the room. He was dressed in white, as usual, a white, long-sleeved pullover and white linen trousers.

Cari and the others stopped their free-for-all.

“I've been to Provincetown,” Simon told Jan.

“Yes. Edward told us,” Jan said, her face filling with concern. “Aunt Rose … is she—?”

“She's fine,” Simon said, smiling reassuringly. “I'm terribly sorry. It seems she did call. She spoke to Edward. When he told her what our situation was, Aileen convinced her to go to some kind of spa for a couple of days. I apologize for Edward. My poor brother forgets things these days.”

“So she's feeling okay?” Jan asked.

“Yes, yes. As fit as a fiddle,” Simon said. And then he added, “I guess that expression really dates me.” He made a face. “Anyway, Rose will be here in a couple of days. She's taking the launch from Provincetown on Thursday.”

“Great,” Jan said, obviously very relieved. “It was so nice of you to go to all that trouble.”

“No trouble,” Simon said, raising a hand in protest. “No trouble at all, my dear. I was worried about Rose too. But now there is nothing to worry about.”

Yes, there
are
still things to worry about, Cari thought. There's Martin. And Edward. And that secret tunnel with the weird room. And the ghost—Plenty of things to worry about.

“Simon—” Cari started. She had to ask him. She had to tell him the things they had seen.

“Simon—”

But he had vanished from the room.

Go away, world. Go away.

Jan, her eyes shut tight, her face clenched in a grimace of concentration, sat in her silky green pajamas on the area rug at the foot of her bed. Chanting softly to herself, she leaned forward, her fingertips tracing the circle and star she had chalked on the floor.

The room smelled of mothballs. She had opened the window wide to let in the fresh fragrant air. But now the chirping of crickets and tree frogs, a deafening symphony, was invading her thoughts, spoiling her concentration.

Go away, world. Go away.

Rolling her fingertips over the ancient symbol, she let herself drift, allowed herself to float, away from the chirping insects, the rash of the night wind, away from the damp, musty smells of the old hotel room.

She was floating through darkness now, soft and silent.

And still she continued to trace the chalked pentacle, feeling her fingers grow warm, feeling the floor come alive beneath her fingers.

Floating through the silent darkness.

All alone.

Alone and away.

And then suddenly she knew she wasn't alone.

She could feel the ghostly presence. She knew it was nearby. She knew it was floating to her.

I am drawn to the supernatural because I can sense it all around me. I have spirit powers, she thought, rubbing the pentacle, her hand throbbing with pain, with fire, with
life.

Come to me, she thought. Come to me.

I can sense your presence. I know you're there, spirit.

“Reveal yourself!” she cried aloud.

The loud knock on the door startled her to her feet, eyes open, heart thudding.

Not with fear. But with anticipation.

I know you're there. I can feel it. I can sense it.

Her hand throbbed. With power.

The power coursed through her body, filled her with energy from the spirits all around.

Without hesitating, she pulled open the door.

“Oh!” she cried.

J
an wasn't at breakfast the next morning, but that wasn't unusual. She liked to sleep in, skip breakfast, and join them after the work had started.

“Good news about Jan's aunt,” Craig said, helping himself to another plate of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Jan really was relieved.”

“Yeah,” Cari agreed uneasily.

Eric smiled at her, then moved his eyes past her to the big dining-room windows. “Not a beach day today,” he said, smoothing the front of his Grateful Dead T-shirt with an open hand.

Cari saw that the sky was gray with heavy clouds that pressed all the way to the ground. A steady drizzle came down, the wind bending the grasses on the dune as if a giant foot were stepping on them.

“Yuck,” she said, turning back to her cereal bowl.

“Well, we'll get a lot of work done,” Eric said
cheerily. “We can probably get all the paper stripped on that side, and finish up the molding too.”

“Anybody up for another tunnel adventure?” Craig asked brightly.

Eric and Cari both made disapproving faces and didn't bother to reply.

They worked the rest of the morning and didn't break for lunch until one-thirty.

“So where's Jan?” Cari asked as they washed their hands in the big steel sink in the kitchen. “She never sleeps
this
late.”

“Yeah, you're right,” Eric agreed, glancing around as if expecting to see her in the kitchen.

“She's probably off with Simon or Edward,” Craig suggested. “We haven't seen either of them today.”

“Yeah. Maybe she and Simon took the dinghy to Provincetown to see Rose,” Eric said, drying his hands on the legs of his jeans.

“I think she would have told us if she was going somewhere,” Cari said.

“Well, you're not worried about her, are you?” Eric asked, his face showing his concern. “We could form a search party.”

“No, I'm not worried,” Cari lied. “I'm sure you're right. She's probably off with Simon.”

Martin, who also hadn't been seen since breakfast, had left cold sandwiches and drinks for them in the refrigerator.

They ate quickly in the gray light of the cavernous dining room. It was thundering outside. The
dark sky had continued to rumble even though the steady rain of the morning had momentarily stopped.

They worked all afternoon, stripping wallpaper. The door to the hidden passageway was completely revealed but none of the three friends felt the slightest desire to open it or venture back into the twisting, dark tunnels.

At four-thirty they put down their tools, pushed the scaffolding against the wall, and went upstairs to take showers.

Passing Jan's room, Cari stopped, hesitated at the door, then knocked.

Silence.

She turned the knob and pushed the door open. All of the lights were on. Jan's bed was unmade. There were clothes tossed on the armchair and across the bed.

Nothing unusual.

But no sign of Jan.

“Where are you, Jan?” Cari called aloud.

The only reply was a creaking from the hallway, just the old hotel settling.

They heard Simon come in the front door as they ate dinner in the dining room, and watched as he passed the doors, walking quickly, not pausing to glance in.

“Simon?” Cari called. She wanted to ask if he knew where Jan was.

But he didn't seem to hear her. He went straight up the stairs to his room.

“Hey, you know what? I really
am
worried about Jan,” Cari admitted to Eric and Craig.

As if on cue, Martin entered from the kitchen, carrying a tray. “Where is the dark-haired one?” he asked.

“You haven't seen her?” Cari asked.

Martin shook his head.

“We assumed she was with Simon,” Craig said. “Did he go to Provincetown or something?”

Again Martin shook his head. “Simon went to see the workers, to find out when they planned to return. I haven't seen your friend.”

Martin's words sent a stab of fear to Cari's chest. Her eyes followed him as he turned and went back to the kitchen.

“We've got to look for Jan,” Cari said, suddenly cold all over. “Should we split up or stay together?”

“Stay together,” Eric replied quickly. “We'll start upstairs.”

“Where can she be?” Craig asked, shaking his head.

“Maybe the ghost got her,” Cari said.

Eric gave her a searching look, then shook his head. “It wasn't a ghost who moved the scaffolding against the door,” he said heatedly.

“Eric's right,” Craig agreed quickly. “It had to be Martin—or Edward. Let's forget about ghosts.”

“Let's just find Jan,” Cari said.

They began their search in Jan's room. There were no clues, Cari realized. All of Jan's things seemed to be there. It was impossible to tell if she had slept in the bed or not.

A chalked pentacle had been half-rubbed into the floor at the foot of the bed. Cari saw it first and pointed it out to the boys. “If she summoned the ghost and the ghost took her somewhere …” Cari started.

Craig and Eric were determined not to talk about ghosts.

Are they afraid there just might
be
a ghost? Cari wondered, following them out of Jan's room, closing the door softly behind her.

They searched in all the rooms along the hallway of the old wing, without success. Then they searched the lobby and the adjoining rec room. They looked in the office, which was dark and silent.

Carrying flashlights, they ventured onto the terrace. The rain had stopped, but the sky was still blanketed with low clouds. The air was hot and wet, and Cari felt as if they were walking through a giant steam bath.

“Jan—where are you?” she called as they walked past the pool, the water nearly to the top because of all the rain.

No sign of her.

“This is scary,” Cari said. She grabbed Eric's hand. Despite the steaminess of the night, it was ice-cold.

“We have to tell Simon she's missing,” Eric said.

“We can call the Willow Island police,” Cari said, not letting go of Eric's hand. Willow Island was larger, only ten minutes away by motorboat.