The Second Evil (6 page)

“Huh? Really?” Corky asked with genuine interest, her voice rising several octaves. “What happened to her?”

Sarah Beth pulled the collar of her trench coat tight. She shivered. “It's getting really cool, don't you
think?” she asked, glancing toward the street. Then she added, “Are you really interested in Sarah Fear?”

“Yeah,” Corky replied quickly. “It's … it's a long story, but I'm very interested.” She cast Chip a look, urging him to respond.

“Uh … me too,” Chip said obediently, placing a hand protectively on Corky's shoulder.

“Well, there's a small coffee shop on Hawthorne,” Sarah Beth said, buttoning the top button on the coat. “It's within walking distance. It's called Alma's. It's sort of a college hangout.”

“I know where it is,” Chip said. “It's just a couple of blocks from here.”

“If you want,” Sarah Beth continued, “we could go there and get something hot to drink. I'll tell you all I know about Sarah Fear.”

“Excellent,” Chip said, glancing at Corky.

“Okay,” Corky agreed.

The image of Sarah Beth floating up from Sarah Fear's grave flashed into Corky's mind again. She hesitated.

I imagined it, she told herself. Just as I imagined Bobbi rising up from the ground.

Sarah Beth seems friendly and interesting.

Taking one last glance up toward Bobbi's headstone, she turned and followed Chip and Sarah Beth to the street.

It took only a few minutes to walk to the restaurant at the corner of Hawthorne and Old Mill Road. “See that place over there?” Sarah Beth asked, pointing to a small redbrick house across the street. “That's where I'm living. It's not a mansion, but it's cozy.”

Alma's coffee shop was small but cozy too. A long
counter ran along the right wall. Narrow red vinyl booths lined the other wall. The restaurant smelled of strong coffee and grilled onions.

Four teenagers at a booth near the front were laughing loudly, drumming on the tabletop and clattering their silverware. Two white-haired men nursing mugs of coffee at the counter were the only other customers.

Sarah Beth squeezed into the last booth at the back. Corky and Chip slid in across from her. Sarah Beth ordered tea, while Corky asked for hot chocolate. Chip ordered a Coke float with chocolate ice cream. “I have a craving,” he said, shrugging his broad shoulders in reply to the stares of the other two.

The conversation was awkward at first. Corky began to wonder why she had agreed to come with this complete stranger. Sarah Beth seemed friendly enough. But Corky had an uneasy feeling about her, a suspicion she couldn't put into words.

“Why do you have to do your gravestone rubbing at night?” she asked Sarah Beth.

Again Sarah Beth's eyes narrowed, as if the question displeased her. “Oh, I'm just running late, as usual,” she said, stirring her tea. “The assignment is due tomorrow morning, so of course I waited till the last possible minute.”

It seemed like a perfectly reasonable explanation. But to Corky's mind, it just didn't ring true.

“Oops! Sorry.” Chip dropped his ice-cream spoon onto the seat. Moving to retrieve it, he accidentally bumped Corky's hand.

She cried out in pain, startling Sarah Beth.

“It's my hand. I … uh … burned it,” Corky explained, holding up her bandaged hand.

Sarah Beth continued to stare at her. For a frightening moment Corky had the feeling that Sarah Beth knew
how
she had burned it.

But of course that was impossible.

Stop being so suspicious, Corky scolded herself.

“Please tell us about Sarah Fear,” she urged Sarah Beth. “I'm really interested.”

Sarah Beth took a long sip of tea, then set the mug down. She reached for the aluminum sugar dispenser. “Okay, here's the little information I've been able to find,” she said, pouring a stream of sugar into the tea.

“There isn't much information available about her. Strangely enough, I've been able to find out a lot more about her
death
than about her life.

“She married a grandson of Simon Fear, a mysterious man who moved to Shadyside and built an enormous mansion back in the woods, away from everyone else in—”

“That's the burned-out old shell across from the cemetery,” Chip interrupted, busily scooping ice cream out of the tall soda glass.

“There wasn't much of a cemetery when Simon built his house,” Sarah Beth replied. “He was all alone out here for a while. Then they built the mill in this area. Soon after that, the city built a road through the woods, right past the Fear mansion. And it came to be named Fear Street.”

“Wow, I never knew any of this,” Corky said, intrigued. “Of course my family is new in town. We just moved here this fall from Missouri. Have you lived in Shadyside a long time? Is that why you're so interested in the town?”

Sarah Beth took a sip of her tea, staring over the
booths to the front window of the restaurant. “I've lived here on and off,” she replied curtly.

Am I being too nosy? Corky wondered. Is that why she got so cold?

“As I said, Sarah Fear married Simon's grandson. She and her husband lived in a house near Simon's mansion, a large house on Fear Lake.”

“That's the small lake with the island in the middle of it,” Chip explained to Corky. “It's back in the woods, two or three blocks from your house.”

“As I mentioned earlier, little is known of Sarah Fear's life,” Sarah Beth continued, rolling the sugar dispenser between her long, slender hands. “Her husband died suddenly of pneumonia just two years after they were married, leaving her quite wealthy, according to the newspaper reports from the time. She had servants. Her house was always filled with people. After her husband died, her two brothers moved in with her, as did several cousins.

“Despite her wealth, she was never mentioned on the social pages of the newspaper. Nor was she ever mentioned as being involved with charitable functions, the way wealthy people often are.

“I haven't found much personal information about her,” Sarah Beth continued. “I don't know if she ever remarried. There isn't any mention of it in the Fear family records I've seen. Of course, she didn't live long enough to have much of a life.”

“She died young too?” Corky asked in surprise.

“Very,” Sarah Beth replied somberly. “In her twenties. Sarah died in 1899. The whole thing was very mysterious. The Fear family pleasure boat capsized on Fear Lake—for no apparent reason. It was a calm,
sunny summer day. The lake was as flat as glass. There were no other boats in the water.

“Yet the boat turned over. All on board were drowned. Sarah Fear, her brother, her niece and nephew, and a servant.”

“Whew!” Chip let out his breath, shaking his head.

Corky stared at Sarah Beth, listening to her story in rapt silence. So that explains the four graves around Sarah Fear's grave, she thought. A brother, a niece, a nephew, and a servant.

“They all drowned,” Sarah Beth said again, speaking softly, leaning over the table. “All within view of the shore. Maybe a five- or ten-minute swim at most.”

Sarah Beth sipped her tea, then licked her pale lips. “No one knows why the boat turned over, no one knows why everyone drowned. It's all a mystery.”

Corky stared down at her mug of hot chocolate, thinking hard, Sarah Beth's scratchy voice still echoing in her ears.

It was the evil spirit, Corky thought. It
had
to be the evil spirit that was responsible for that accident.

She was tempted to tell Sarah Beth about the evil force, but it was late. Her hand ached, and she suddenly felt tired. Besides, she realized she didn't really trust the young woman. She didn't know enough about her to confide in her.

“There's more,” Sarah Beth said suddenly. Corky saw Sarah Beth staring at her as if trying to read her thoughts. “After Sarah Fear's death, there were all kinds of stories—stories about how she and the servant who drowned had been lovers. Stories about how Sarah and the servant were seen walking in Shadyside, walking in the woods behind her house, even walking in town—long after their death.

“You know,” Sarah Beth scoffed, “the usual ghoststory mumbo jumbo that the Fear family is known for.”

Her attitude surprised Corky. “You don't believe it?” Corky demanded.

Sarah Beth chuckled. A smile formed slowly on her lips. “I think it's all kind of funny,” she replied, locking her dark eyes on Corky's, as if trying to gauge her reaction.

Funny? Corky thought. Five people drown? Their boat capsizes on a calm lake for no reason? Such a horrible, tragic story. And Sarah Beth thinks it's kind of funny?

Corky took a final sip of her hot chocolate. “It's pretty late. My mom is probably worried. I didn't tell her I'd be gone this long.” She gave Chip a push to get him moving.

“Nice meeting you,” Chip said to Sarah Beth. He slid out of the booth and reached for Corky's windbreaker, hanging on a hook on the back wall.

“I enjoyed talking with you,” Sarah Beth said, her eyes on Corky. “I usually don't meet such nice people in a cemetery.”

“Are you leaving too?” Corky asked, standing up and allowing Chip to help her put her coat on.

“I think I'll stay and have another cup of tea,” she replied. “I live so close. I haven't far to walk.”

They all said good night again, and Chip and Corky made their way down the narrow aisle, past the counter where the two white-haired men still sat hunched over their coffee mugs, and out the front door.

“She's nice,” Chip said, glancing up at the moon, which was now pale white and high in the black sky.

“I guess,” Corky replied without enthusiasm. “But there's something odd about her, don't you think?”

“Odd?” Chip shook his head. “Just her voice.”

Corky stared through the restaurant window and focused on the back booth. She could see Sarah Beth Plummer sitting alone against the back wall, her slender hands wrapped around a white mug of tea.

To Corky's surprise, she had the strangest smile on her face.

Not a pleasant smile, Corky realized.

A cruel smile.

Even from that distance, even through the hazy glass, Corky could see the gleam in Sarah Beth's dark eyes, the unmistakable gleam of … evil.

A
fter school on Monday Corky hesitated at the double doors to the gym. On the other side she could hear shouts and the thunder of sneakers pounding over the wooden floorboards. The basketball team must also be practicing in the gym, she realized.

Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes, said a silent prayer, and pushed open the swinging doors. As if on cue, the voices of the cheerleaders rang out:

“Hey, you! Yeah, you! Are you ready? Our team is tough and our team is steady! We're on the way to the top And we'll never stop!

The tigers are on the hunt. Hear them growl, hear them roar! You'd better hold your ears, 'Cause the Tigers will roar All over, All over you!”

The cheer ended with an enthusiastic shout, and each of the five girls performed a flying split, their legs shooting out as they leapt into the air one at a time.

“Pretty good. Pretty good,” Miss Green, the advisor called out with her usual restraint, hands on the hips of her gray sweats, her expression thoughtful A compact woman with frizzy brown hair and a somewhat plain face, Miss Green had a husky voice that always sounded as if she had laryngitis.

“Try it again,” she told them, “and this time get more height on those jumps. And
enunciate.
I want to hear consonants, guys! We're not entering the Mumbling Olympics.”

On the other side of the gym, Coach Swenson was blowing his whistle. The shrill sound echoed off the tile walls. Corky watched the basketball players form a line to practice running lay-ups.

She turned her attention back to the cheerleaders, who were in position to do the cheer again. As Corky's eyes moved from girl to girl, a flood of memories washed over her, holding her in place, frozen against the doors.

There was Kimmy, the captain, her round face pink as usual, her black crimped hair bobbing on her head as she enthusiastically jumped into place and
checked to make sure the other girls were lining up correctly.

Beside her stood freckle-faced, redheaded Ronnie, looking like a kid in gray sweat shorts and a white sleeveless T-shirt, whispering something to Debra.

Debra smiled slowly, her cold blue eyes lighting up. Beside her, Megan Carman and Heather Diehl, best friends who always seemed to be together, were chatting animatedly.

Kimmy blew a whistle and the cheer began.

Corky watched them run through it again. It was crisper this time, and the flying splits were higher. Ronnie started hers too soon and landed awkwardly, but everyone else was right on the money.