Wicked (11 page)

“I guess Jeremy got the best of us, one last time.” Marc shook his head. “I wish he knew. He'd be laughing like crazy right about now.”

Eve blinked back a tear. She'd never liked Jeremy's sense of humor, and she'd been furious at him when he'd put the dead lobster in their pool. His last joke hadn't been very funny, either. It had been a deliberate attempt to get even with her. If Jeremy had been alive, she probably would have slapped his face. But Eve's anger didn't stop her from feeling very sorry that Jeremy was dead.

“I . . . I don't think I can finish reading my chapter.” Angela placed her pages face down on the table. “And I'm going to change the names in my story. It's like Eve said. It's just too much of a coincidence.”

Ryan looked thoughtful. “Maybe it isn't a coincidence at all. I know you didn't mean for this to happen, Angela, but your chapters might have led to these accidents.”

“How?” Angela's mouth dropped open. “I thought you said that my book didn't have anything to do with it!”

“That's what I thought, at first. But now I've changed my mind. Cheryl listened to you when you read about her character's death. It didn't seem to bother her, but she could have been hiding how upset she really was. And hearing about her character's death could have made Cheryl so nervous that she slipped and fell in the kitchen.”

“That makes some kind of sense.” Marc didn't look entirely convinced. “But what about Tracie? She died
before
Angela read her chapter.”

“That's true, but Tracie could have read it when it was in the printer tray. Angela printed out early, but she didn't collect her pages until right before our meeting. Tracie could have seen them when she went up to the fourth floor to pick up her own chapter.”

“And they made her so nervous, she fell in the pool?” Eve wasn't convinced.

“It's possible. And when she hit the water, she got a cramp and she drowned.”

“And you think Jeremy read Angela's chapter about him?” Scott didn't look entirely convinced either.

“It could have happened that way. If Jeremy read Angela's chapter before he went up on the roof, he might have been very nervous.”

Angela frowned. “If Jeremy was so nervous about my chapter, why did he go up to the roof at all?”

“To rig his joke. Jeremy would have walked across burning coals to set up one of his practical jokes.”

Everyone nodded. They all knew Ryan was right.

“And because Jeremy was nervous, he hurried. That's why he stumbled and fell over the edge.” Ryan finished his explanation. “Does that make sense?”

Everyone nodded again, and then Angela spoke up. “So what shall I do? I told you I'd stop writing and I meant it. I don't want anything else to happen to my friends!”

“You don't have to stop writing.” Ryan reached out to take Angela's hand. “Just don't print out until you're ready to read your chapter to us.”

Scott started to grin. “I've got a better idea. Angela should pick her next victim very carefully. She should choose someone who won't get nervous, someone with nerves of steel, a professional who's an expert at separating fact from fiction.”

“Like you?” Eve asked.

“Yeah, like me. I'll even read the chapter ahead of time, and I can guarantee you, I won't wind up dead!”

“But . . . how can you be sure?” Beth looked very nervous, and Eve sensed that she was about to become an ally. “Isn't that taking an awful chance?”

“That's what investigative reporters do. They take chances and they ferret out the truth. I've been in a lot of potentially dangerous situations and I know how to take precautions. Nothing's ever happened to me.”

“Nothing's ever happened to you
yet,
” Eve corrected him.

Scott dismissed Eve with a wave of his hand and he turned to Angela. “Come on, Angela. . . . Make me your next victim, and I'll prove your story has nothing to do with these accidents.”

“I know what you're doing, Scott.” Eve confronted him. “You're going to write about this whole thing and try to sell it. You figure it'll jump-start your career. Am I right?”

“You're right.” Scott looked a little embarrassed, but he laughed. “It's a real scoop and it'll read even better if I'm one of the victims in
Ten Little Writers
. Come on, Angela. . . . You can work me in as the next victim, can't you?”

“Yes. It'll fit with my story line. But are you sure, Scott?”

“I'm sure.” Scott grinned at all of them. “Thanks, Angela. You've given me the chance of a lifetime.”

“Let's just hope it's not the
last
chance of your lifetime.” Eve pushed back her chair and stood up. “You're letting your ambition get in the way of your good sense. I just want you to remember that I tried to stop you from being a fool.”

Scott laughed, and it wasn't a nice laugh. “Thanks, Eve. I'll be sure to send you a copy of my article when it's published. And then we'll see who the fool really is!”

CHAPTER TWELVE

It was past midnight, and everyone was either sleeping or working in their rooms. Angela had finished her chapter. Wicked smiled as Scott picked up Angela's pages from the printer and took them back down to his room to read. Scott had convinced Angela to let him read her chapter tonight, and he'd promised to give it back in the morning for any last-minute changes. Of course, there wouldn't be any last-minute changes. Wicked would make sure of that.

When the sound of Scott's footsteps had faded away, Wicked rushed to the printer and hit the button to print out again. Wicked would read about Scott's murder tonight. That would allow plenty of time to plan Scott's death in a way that duplicated what Angela had written.

Their meeting tonight had been very interesting. Wicked's bright side had been there, and that meant that Wicked had been there, too. Everyone had been thoroughly freaked when Jeremy's tape had been played. Wicked had looked out through the bright side's eyes and watched Eve very carefully. Eve had been just as shocked as everyone else, but she'd hidden it well. And she'd recovered much faster than any other member of the group. Wicked couldn't help but admire her composure. It would slip, sooner or later, but at that particular moment, Eve had been simply magnificent.

Wicked carried the pages back to the small fourth-floor room and sat down in the reading chair. Eve was a force to be reckoned with, especially since she seemed to be winning Beth over. Beth was beginning to believe that the deaths had been more than simple accidents. If too many people started to believe that the accidents were connected Angela's chapters, it would be very difficult for Wicked to achieve the goal.

Ryan's explanation had gone a long way to calm everyone's fears. Wicked knew that what Ryan had said was patently ridiculous, but no one else had Wicked's insight, not even Wicked's bright side, who was still unaware that they were sharing the same body. In this case, the bright side's ignorance truly was bliss.

Wicked began to smile, imagining what would happen if they suddenly learned the truth. Ryan was a nice guy and a good writer. He'd be horrified if he knew that by trying to calm the rest of the group, he'd actually bought Wicked some time. Ryan had helped Wicked tonight. It was too bad that Wicked couldn't tell him that.

Poor Angela would be appalled if she learned that the content of her chapters was providing the fuel for Wicked's fire. Given a choice between causing more deaths and discontinuing her work on
Ten Little Writers
, Wicked was sure that Angela would choose to stop writing. That's why Wicked couldn't give her the choice. Angela had to keep on writing until her project was finished and Wicked had turned her words into segments of perfect reality.

Then there was Eve. Wicked smiled. What would Eve do if she knew the truth? Of course she'd be repelled, but she wouldn't be as shocked as Ryan or Angela. Eve was a person of action. She thought clearly, even when she was frightened. Eve might actually try to defeat Wicked.

Ryan, Angela, and Eve were all intelligent enough to figure it out if they had all the pieces of the puzzle. Wicked had to be constantly on guard around them. They were the leaders of the group. If all three of them put their heads together, they could keep Wicked from reaching the goal.

Of course that wouldn't happen. Wicked smiled again. There was too much competition between Eve and Angela and that got in the way. There was also jealousy, and Wicked was glad that Eve thought Angela was trying to steal Ryan's affectations. Ryan was smart enough to realize that Eve and Angela were rivals. Trying to placate both of them kept him so busy that he didn't have time to see the real threat.

And then there was Scott. Poor Scott. Wicked frowned slightly. Scott was nice, and Wicked was sorry that he'd offered to be Angela's next victim. Eve had been right. Scott was a fool, and he would pay for his foolish mistake with his life. The pen was mightier than the sword. Professor Hellman had pontificated about that. The professor thought it was only a cliché, but the professor hadn't known about Wicked.

* * *

Eve was out on her balcony when she heard a soft knock at her door. She crossed the room quickly and opened the door a crack. Ryan was standing there, looking very apologetic.

“Did I wake you, Eve? I thought I heard you out on your balcony, and I took the chance that you were up.”

“You were right. It's just too hot to sleep. Come out on the balcony. There's actually a breeze.” Ryan followed Eve to the balcony, but when he perched on the rail, Eve gulped. Because of her fear of heights, she was afraid for him, but she couldn't admit that. “You'd better sit in the chair, Ryan. Angela might write about somebody falling off a balcony.”

Ryan looked very serious as he sat down. “That's why I needed to talk to you, Eve. Do you really think there's a connection between Angela's book and the accidents?”

“Yes, I do. And I'm really worried about Scott. That's why I tried to embarrass him into backing out of his offer to be Angela's next victim.”

“But it didn't work.”

“I know.” Eve sighed. “Just in case you haven't noticed, I'm not the most tactful person in the world. I probably jumped on him too hard. I should have given him a graceful way to back down, but I didn't know how to do it.”

“And that bothers you?”

“Of course it does!” Eve was shocked. “Look, Ryan . . . I admit I was tactless, but that doesn't mean I don't care.”

Ryan smiled. It was a teasing smile, the kind of smile that meant he liked her, and Eve started to feel very good. “You really care about what happens to Scott? After all the nasty things he said about you?”

“Scott was just saving face. I backed him into a corner and he had to say something.” Eve stopped and took a deep breath. It was time to be completely honest, and that was very difficult for her. “I should have told Scott he was very brave to even think of being Angela's next victim. And then I should have insisted that Angela use me, instead.”

“You're dreaming, Eve. Scott never would have gone for that.”

“You're wrong. I was watching his face, and he would have caved in if I'd said that I trusted him to protect me. And then, if I'd offered to give him an interview about how it felt to be slated as Angela's next victim, Scott would have bought it completely.”

Ryan thought about it for a moment. “You could be right. But I wouldn't have let you do something like that.”

“Why not? Even if Scott fell down on the job, I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself.”

Ryan shook his head, and when he answered, his voice was very soft. “I couldn't let you take that chance. I care about you too much.”

“You do?” Eve held her breath. Was Ryan about to tell her that he loved her?

“I really do. I know you're a good person, Eve. And that's why I need to talk to you about Angela.”

“What about Angela?” Eve was glad it was dark. She turned her face away from the light spilling out of her room, and tried not to look as disappointed as she felt.

“Angela's pretty upset about her book. She blames herself for everything that's happened.”

Eve didn't say a word. What could she say? As far as she was concerned, Angela was perfectly right in blaming herself.

“She thinks you're against her, Eve.” Ryan's voice was very sincere. “That's why I want you to tell her that you've changed your mind.”

“Changed my mind about what?”

“About her book. I think you should tell Angela that you don't think her book has anything to do with the accidents. Even if you don't mean it, it'll make her feel a lot better.”

Eve thought about it for a long moment. If she did what Ryan wanted, he'd probably say that he loved her. But Ryan would be loving a lie. Eve couldn't do that. You could call it scruples, or conscience, or whatever you wanted, but there was no way that Eve Carrington could pretend to be something that she wasn't.

“No, Ryan.” There were tears in Eve's green eyes as she faced him. Perhaps she loved him. Eve wasn't sure. But Ryan was asking her to sell out. He wanted her to tell a deliberate lie, and she simply couldn't do that.

“Why, Eve?” Ryan reached out to take her hand. “Do you hate Angela that much?”

“No. I hate some of the things that she does, but I don't hate Angela. She can't help the way she is.”

Ryan smiled. “Now you're talking sense. If you got to know her, I think you'd like her. I really do.”

“Maybe.” Eve was willing to give Ryan the benefit of the doubt. “But even if I did, I wouldn't lie to her. Don't you see, Ryan? I can't tell Angela that everything's just fine when I don't really believe it.”

“Eve, honey . . . I know you're disappointed because we haven't been spending much time together. It's just that Angela's upset and she really needs a friend so I've been trying to give her some moral support.”

Eve nodded, although she wasn't sure that was all there was to it. Angela was gorgeous, and Ryan had certainly noticed that!

“I'd rather spend my time with you, Eve. That's why I want you to tell Angela that what she's writing can't possibly have anything to do with the accidents. Then she won't be upset any longer and she won't need me to continually reassure her. You can see that, can't you honey?”

“I guess that makes some kind of sense, but I can't do it, Ryan.”

“Even though it'll mean that we can spend more time together?”

“No.” Eve shook her head. “I'd like to spend more time with you, Ryan. You know that. But I can't lie about something that important, even for you.”

Ryan squeezed her hand once more, and then he stood up. He looked very serious, and Eve found she couldn't really read his expression. “All right. I guess you've answered my question. Good night, Eve.”

Eve blinked back tears as Ryan left. She felt like calling him back, but what good would that do? No matter what he said, she wasn't going to change her mind. She sat on the balcony until her tears had dried, and then she went inside to go to bed. Ryan was probably with Angela right now. He'd fallen completely under her spell, and there was nothing that Eve could do about it. She'd blown it with Ryan, but you had to draw the line somewhere, and that's exactly what Eve had done. And if it meant that Ryan was no longer her boyfriend, then maybe she was better off without him.

Eve sighed as she crawled into bed. Her tears had started to fall again, and she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. It had been the truth when she'd told Ryan that she didn't hate Angela. But now that she'd lost Ryan to her rival, Eve certainly had a score to settle. Even if it took her the rest of her life, she was going to prove that Angela's chapters had somehow caused the deaths of their friends.

* * *

Scott couldn't help feeling nervous as he read Angela's pages. She was a very good writer, and the scene where she'd killed off his character was really horrendous. It had happened in the laundry room. Scott had been doing his laundry when the killer had crept up on him. He'd hit Scott over the head and Scott had fallen to the floor, unconscious. Then the killer had stuffed Scott into the industrial-sized dryer. Scott had regained consciousness and died a horrible death in the suffocating heat as his body and his clothes had gone around and around.

Scott's hands were shaking as he put down the pages. The thought of whirling around in a hot dryer, barely conscious because of a blow to the head, was really horrifying.

Scott had always been claustrophobic, but he hadn't told Angela about that. No one knew, not even his roommates. Scott didn't like to discuss his private fears. It was embarrassing. But, somehow, Angela had managed to plug in to his worst fear.

“It's only fiction. It's only fiction. It's only fiction.” Scott repeated it over and over, like some sort of magical mantra that could ward off evil. But the mantra didn't work. Scott's hands were still shaking as he crawled into bed and turned off the light.

There was no way he could sleep. Scott sighed and stared up at the ceiling. Every time he closed his eyes, he pictured his character in the dryer, mouth open in a soundless scream, hands beating at the round safety glass as he whirled around and around with his shorts and his socks.

Scott tried to think of something else, touch football on a sunny afternoon in the park, driving his car with the window rolled down and the air streaming past his face, Sunday barbecues at his older brother's house with spicy ribs and a keg of beer and his little niece and nephew playing in the yard. Nothing worked. The image of his body in the dryer was permanently etched on his mind.

With trembling fingers, Scott reached out and flicked on the light. The warm glow of the lamp chased away the horrible image, and Scott actually laughed at himself. It was strange how things seemed much more frightening in the dark. It was almost as if night unlocked the chains on his innermost fears and made them grow strong and powerful. Everything was exaggerated, even the slightest sound. Nothing was too horrible to contemplate in the dark, and the black side of the imagination ruled.

Now that the light was on, everything seemed perfectly normal, and Scott wished he'd brought his night-light with him. He'd told his roommates he used it so he wouldn't stub his toe on the furniture when he got up in the middle of the night, but that wasn't the only reason. A night light was comforting. Scott had always used one. It chased away the demons of the dark.

Everyone said he was brave. Scott thought about it for a moment, and then he grinned. He
was
brave. He'd gone into deserted houses to investigate ghost sightings, even though he'd been petrified with fear. He'd spent three incredibly anxious days locked up in a psych ward to interview a homicidal maniac. He'd even gone skydiving to write about a couple who'd gotten married in midair, and he'd been so terrified he'd barely been able to hold on to his camera. People who weren't afraid couldn't claim they were brave. Bravery was doing something in spite of the fact that you were frightened out of your skin.