Wicked (6 page)

Angela was sobbing quietly and Ryan was holding her. For the first time, Eve wasn't a bit jealous. Angela had been the one to find Cheryl, and it must have been a horrible shock.

“Come on, guys.” Jeremy motioned for Scott and Marc. “Let's get out of here. We can't do anything for Cheryl, and we shouldn't touch anything.”

“Good idea,” Ryan said. “I'll call the police. Eve? Help me with Angela. I think she's in shock.”

“Come on, Angela.” Eve hurried to take Angela's arm. “Let's go. You'll feel better in another room.”

Angela was trembling so much, she could barely walk. Eve supported her on one side while Ryan helped on the other. They half-carried her down the hall and got her settled on the living room couch. Eve sat next to her with her arm around Angela's shoulders, and Ryan hurried to the phone on the desk.

Everyone was silent as Ryan picked up the receiver. He clicked the button several times, and then he turned to them. “This phone's not working. I'll use the one in the library.”

But the phone in the library wasn't working either, and Ryan was clearly upset when he came back. And although they checked every phone in the house to make sure none of them were off the hook, they couldn't get a dial tone.

“Somebody has to drive to the police station!” Tracie's voice was high and scared, and it was clear she was on the verge of panic.

Eve shook her head. “We can't leave the house, Tracie. We're quarantined, remember?”

“But . . . but there's no phone! We've got to do something!”

“Don't worry, Tracie. We will.” Ryan tried to soothe her. “Let's all try to relax for a minute and think about what we can do.”

But there was nothing they could do. They couldn't call out, and they couldn't leave. They couldn't even shout out the window to one of their neighbors because the surrounding houses were all vacant.

“Do you think we could flag down a car?” Beth sounded very tentative. “One of us could stand out in the street with a big sign. As long as the driver didn't come too close, we wouldn't be breaking the quarantine.”

Everyone else started to look very excited, but Eve just sighed. “That's a great idea, Beth, but it won't work. We're on a dead end, and there isn't any through traffic. The only cars I've seen on the street are ours.”

“Relax, everybody.” Scott gave them all a reassuring smile. “All of our friends have this number. They'll call, and when they can't get through, they'll report it to the phone company. Somebody'll come out to repair it. We just have to be patient.”

Eve sighed. “That's true, but we'll still have a problem if there's something wrong with the wiring inside the house. We can't let the repairman in.”

“This is all my fault!” Angela started to cry. “I wrote about Cheryl's death, and now it's . . . it's happened!”

Ryan shook his head. “That's crazy, Angela. Think about it for a minute. The murder weapon in your book was a knife, and Cheryl wasn't stabbed. She fell and hit her head on the table. Her death was an accident, not murder.”

“I . . . I guess you're right.” Angela looked slightly reassured. “But what shall we do with . . . with Cheryl?”

Eve thought about it for a minute, and then she spoke up. “We'll just stash her body inside the walk-in cooler. It's probably as cold as the morgue.”

“That's just awful!” Tracie glared at Eve. “How can you be so casual when Cheryl was your friend?”

“It's simple, Tracie. I'm facing facts. Cheryl is dead, and there's absolutely nothing I can do for her now.”

Tracie shuddered, and then she looked angry again. “You know what's wrong with you, Eve? You have absolutely no respect for the dead!”

“Yes, I do. But I have more respect for the living. And I don't think any of us should be forced to look at Cheryl's dead body every time we go into the kitchen!”

“Eve's right,” Beth said. “I think we should put her in the cooler and cover her with a blanket or something, just like they do when someone dies in the hospital.”

“We can't.” Ryan looked upset. “The police will want to see exactly how Cheryl died and that means we can't touch anything or cover anything up.”

Eve sighed. “Let's be practical. If the phone doesn't get fixed, the police won't know that Cheryl died for nine more days. We're going to need food from the kitchen, Ryan. And I don't want to be the one to go in and get it!”

“I've got an idea.” Scott spoke up. “I brought my camera with me. Why don't I take some accident scene photos before we move her? That's what the police photographers do.”

Ryan thought about it for a minute. “That's reasonable. Go get your camera, Scott. If we've got a good photo record, I don't see any reason why we can't move Cheryl's body.”

“I'll help. There's an extra blanket in my room we can use.” Eve turned to Tracie, who still looked upset. “Come on, Tracie. If you were really serious about respecting the dead, you can do one last service for Cheryl. I'm going to need help wrapping her up.”

Tracie shuddered and shook her head. “Not me! I prefer to remember Cheryl just as she was.”

“If you want to do something to help, stay here with Angela.” Ryan turned to Tracie. “Do you think you can handle that?”

Tracie looked a little embarrassed. “Yes. I can do that. I'm sorry, everybody, but I just can't face seeing Cheryl again.”

Eve didn't say a word as everyone told Tracie it was all right. Tracie was such a romantic, she couldn't stand a world that wasn't perfect. Romantics didn't get along in the real world, and Tracie was a prime example. Tracie was weak, and she wanted to be protected from anything unpleasant.

“I'll help you, Eve.” Beth stood up. “And Dean will, too . . . won't you, Dean?”

“Sure. And I'll clean up the kitchen, after you're through. We're going to have to go in there eventually.”

Eve turned to smile at them. Beth might be shy, but she was showing a lot of courage. And Dean had just volunteered for a task that was bound to be gruesome. They seemed to have an inner strength, and Eve was glad they were members of the workshop. Beth and Dean were turning out to be real friends.

CHAPTER SIX

It was almost time for dinner, and Eve hesitated at the kitchen door. She'd been perfectly all right last night. She'd helped to wrap Cheryl's body in a blanket, and Ryan had told her that she'd been a tower of strength. But now that the shock had worn off, she really didn't want to go into the kitchen again.

Eve sighed. Today was her day to fix dinner. She gathered her courage and pushed open the kitchen door. She tried to avoid looking at the place where Cheryl had died, but her eyes seemed to have a mind of their own. They were drawn to that spot on the floor by the walk-in cooler, and Eve shuddered. Faint bloodstains still remained, although Dean had scrubbed the wooden floor with cleanser.

Eve stared at the bloodstains with horrible fascination. She couldn't help remembering how Cheryl's lifeless eyes had started up at them. They'd seemed wide and startled as if death had taken her completely unaware, and Eve fought down the urge to turn and run back out into the hall.

She'd never been a coward, and Eve braced herself for the task ahead. No one else had been in the kitchen all day. They'd all snacked on the chips and cookies they'd kept in the library. But chips and cookies weren't a meal, and Eve knew that everyone would be hungry soon.

“I know exactly how you feel, Eve.”

Eve whirled around to see that Angela was standing behind her. “What do you mean, Angela?”

“I don't want to go in there, either. It feels too much like . . . like a crime scene.”

Eve shook her head. “But it's not a crime scene, Angela. Cheryl's death was an accident.”

“I know that. But it still feels like a crime scene. I can't help thinking about how awful Cheryl looked when I found her.”

There were dark circles under Angela's eyes, and she looked as if she'd been up all night. Eve felt an unwanted twinge of sympathy for the girl she'd come to think of as her rival. “It must have been horrible, finding her like that.”

“It was. And what made it even more horrible was that I wrote about it before it happened. I mean . . . I didn't describe it exactly, but it was close enough to scare me. Do you think everyone blames me, Eve?”

“Of course not! How could you know what was going to happen? It was just a coincidence that Cheryl died, right after you killed off her character.”

“I guess, but it still makes me feel strange, almost like I predicted the future, or tempted fate, or something like that.”

“That's totally crazy, and you know it!” Eve took Angela's arm and led her down the hall. “You're dwelling on it, Angela. Just try to think about something else. Let's go out to the courtyard and see who's there.”

Everyone else was lounging on the deck that ran around the pool. Ryan spotted them and he waved them over. “Hi, Eve. I'm glad you found Angela. We were about to go up and look for her.”

“That's right,” Jeremy said. “It's not good for you to be alone, Angela.”

Angela sighed. “I would have come down sooner, but I didn't think I'd be very good company. I'm just too miserable about what's happened.”

“That doesn't matter.” Beth smiled at Angela kindly. “You know what they say. Misery loves company.”

Dean pulled out a deck chair for Angela. “Beth's right. That's why we're all sticking together. We were just talking about how we've got to put this behind us and go back to our regular schedule.”

“We'd be eating dinner right about now.” Tracie glanced at her watch. “I'm getting hungry. How about everyone else?”

“I'm hungry and it's my turn to make dinner,” Eve said. “We'll have pizza tonight. There's some frozen pizza dough in the freezer, and we've got pepperoni and cheese in the walk-in cooler.”

“You're going in the
cooler
?!” Tracie sounded horrified.

“Of course.” Eve hoped she looked more confident than she felt.

“But . . . you can't!” Tracie's face turned pale. “Cheryl's in there!”

“I know that, but so is our food. Somebody's got to go in and get it.”

“'Atta girl, Eve!” Ryan started to applaud, and so did everyone else, everyone except Tracie who looked very upset.

“I still say it's wrong! If you go in there, you'll . . . you'll disturb her!”

“How can I disturb her when she's already dead? Don't be ridiculous, Tracie!” Eve got up and started for the kitchen. “I'll be back in forty-five minutes with pizza for everybody.”

As Eve crossed the courtyard, she heard Tracie's voice. “I don't know about you, but I'm not going to eat any of that pizza. Eve has absolutely no feelings. She's . . . she's
horrible
!”

* * *

“This is great pizza, Eve.” Ryan smiled at her as he took the last piece.

“Yes, it is.” Beth reached out to pat Eve's shoulder. “I think you showed a lot of courage, Eve. I don't think I could have fixed dinner tonight.”

Eve was surprised. “But, Beth . . . you and Dean washed the kitchen floor. That took courage, too.”

“Not really.” Dean shook his head. “We were still in shock, and that made it easier. If we'd taken the time to think about it, we probably couldn't have done it.”

Ryan stood up. “Come on, everybody. Let's all help Eve load the dishwasher.”

“You mean . . . you want us to go into the kitchen?!” Tracie was clearly shocked.

“Yes,” Ryan said. “We can't avoid the kitchen forever. Let's all go together, in a group.”

Jeremy stood up. “You're right. It's like riding a bicycle and falling off. If you don't get right back on again, you're letting your fear control you.”

“But . . . but something could happen! Something awful!” Tracie's face turned pale. “Cheryl's spirit might want us to leave the scene of her death undisturbed.”

Eve laughed. “Relax, Tracie. I made four pizzas in that kitchen. I even stepped over her body to get the cheese, and Cheryl's spirit didn't bother me.”

“Come on, Tracie.” Scott took Tracie's arm. “I must have checked out a hundred sightings, and I haven't seen a ghost or a spirit yet.”

Tracie didn't look convinced, and she turned to Angela. “Are you going, Angela?”

“Yes.” Angela picked up her plate and stood up. “There's nothing to be afraid of. And after we finish in the kitchen, I've got an idea that might help all of us cope with Cheryl's death.”

* * *

Eve was smiling as they all sat down in the living room. She'd given Ryan a list of the movies she'd brought and they planned to watch one tonight. It would be wonderful to cuddle up on the couch with Ryan. It had been a long time since they'd been together, alone.

“I think Dean was right when he said we should go on with our regular schedule,” Angela said. “I know it's after seven, but I think we could all try to write a chapter and meet in the library at eleven.”

Eve's mouth dropped open. Angela's suggestion was almost as ridiculous as Tracie's fear of Cheryl's spirit. “You mean you want us to work tonight?”

“I think it'll help.” Angela smiled at all of them. “Have you ever heard of R.L. Stine?”

“He writes young-adult horror,” Tracie said. “I've read some of his books.”

“Well, the first time I met him . . .”

“You met R.L. Stine?” Tracie looked excited as she interrupted Angela. “Did you get an autographed copy of one of his books?”

“No. This wasn't a book signing, Tracie. It was a dinner party at my parents' house. Mr. Stine told me that he writes at least fifteen pages a day, no exceptions.”

“Wonderful.” Eve couldn't help being sarcastic. “But I bet R.L. Stine never got quarantined in a mansion with a dead friend in the walk-in cooler!”

Angela started to laugh. She didn't seem to realize that Eve was being sarcastic. “You've got a point, Eve. But if something like that happened to him, he'd probably write about it in one of his books.”

“Write about your personal experiences.” Eve rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Is that what you're saying, Angela?”

“Exactly! That's why I think we should all try to write our usual chapters tonight. We can incorporate some of the feelings we have about Cheryl's death into our own writing.”

“What a great idea!” Ryan smiled at Angela. “Even if it doesn't improve our work, it might make us feel better.”

Angela smiled back. “Maybe we'll even learn something valuable about ourselves.”

“Come on, Angela.” Eve couldn't believe her own ears. “You sound like Dear Abby!”

Tracie turned to glare at Eve. “I think Angela's right. This is the first time one of my friends died, and writing about it might help me to cope with my loss.”

“Oh, brother!” Eve snorted. “Jeremy's writing a humor book. What's he supposed to do? Undertaker jokes?”

Jeremy cracked up and Eve felt slightly better. At least one person recognized Angela's idea for the farce that it was. But then Jeremy started to look thoughtful. “You know . . . it might work, Angela. People joke to cover up their fears. It's almost like they need to laugh in the face of death. I could do a chapter on that.”

“Perfect!” Angela smiled. “Okay. Let's all go up and get to work.”

“How about tempting fate, Angela?” Eve asked. “Your next chapter is a murder, isn't it?”

“Yes.” Angela was serious as she faced the group. “I was upset when I talked to Eve this afternoon. I know this sounds crazy, but I felt I'd tempted fate by killing off Cheryl's character. Eve convinced me that it was just a coincidence. She was . . . well . . . Eve was just wonderful!”

Ryan turned to smile at Eve. “Good for you, honey!”

“I've decided to go on with
Ten Little Writers
.” Angela smiled at Eve. “Thank you, Eve.”

Scott started to clap, and soon everyone was applauding. Eve managed to put a smile on her face, but she felt more like screaming in pure frustration. Angela had just cheated her out of her evening alone with Ryan.

“So who are you going to kill off next, Angela?” Eve kept the smile on her face. “Me?”

“No, Eve. I can't kill your character yet. I considered it because I knew you wouldn't mind, but it just won't work with my plot.”

“How about me?” Jeremy asked. “I don't mind if my character gets it.”

“No, it's got to be a female. I guess it's between Beth and Tracie.”

Beth looked nervous, but she nodded agreeably. “You can murder my character, Angela. I'm not that superstitious.”

“Thank you, Beth.” Angela reached out to squeeze Beth's hand. “I'll think about it, okay?”

Tracie realized that everyone was looking at her and she squared her shoulders. “You can kill me, Angela. I'm not superstitious, either.”

“Are you kidding?!” Scott started to laugh. “Come on, Tracie . . . you were afraid of Cheryl's spirit!”

Tracie looked very embarrassed. “I know, but I'm not afraid now. And Angela's got to promise that if she kills me off, I get to sleep in her room tonight. Okay, Angela?”

“Okay. If I kill off your character, you can sleep in my room. That's a promise.” Angela smiled at Tracie. “And now . . . let's all go up and get to work!”

* * *

Wicked smiled as the pages rolled out of the printer. It had been a very productive night. Everyone had written their chapter, even Eve, and that was a pleasant surprise. Eve hadn't wanted to stay in her room and write tonight. But she had, and Wicked felt like applauding. And here were the chapters. Nine of them, since Cheryl was no longer with them. Wicked could hardly wait to read them to see who would die tonight.