The Third Horror Page 3
“Is he going to be okay?” Rob asked.
Bo shrugged. “I got word from Shadyside General. He’s resting comfortably. But they can’t fix his hand. He’s going to lose all the fingers.” He removed his glasses again and pinched the bridge of his nose.
Rob let out a gasp. Kody swallowed hard. “How awful,” Persia murmured.
Glancing up, Kody realized that Bo’s eyes were locked on her.
“Did you stumble, or what?” Bo asked.
“Huh?” Kody didn’t understand.
“In the kitchen,” he said softly. “You fell forward and bumped the garbage disposal on. I saw you.”
“No—!” Kody started to protest. “It wasn’t me. I mean . . .” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t know what happened. . . .”
“I know how freaked you must be,” Bo said. “To be back here, in the house and all. But we’re behind you, Kody. We’re pulling for you. We all know you’re going to be terrific.” He flashed Persia a meaningful look.
Persia continued twirling the wig and pretended she wasn’t interested.
“I hope you can keep it together,” Bo told Kody. “I mean, you’re terribly important to this production.”
He’s blaming me for McCarthy’s accident, Kody realized. He doesn’t want to come right out and say it. He doesn’t want to say, “You pushed the button that started up the disposal and ruined McCarthy’s life.” So he’s giving me a pep talk instead.
“I’m going to do my best,” Kody vowed in a low voice. “I really want to do well, Bo. I know you went out on a limb for me.”
“All for the publicity,” Persia muttered, her eyes on Rob.
Bo leaned forward in his chair, narrowing his eyes at Persia. “What did you say?”
Persia continued to fiddle with the blond wig. “I said you hired Kody for the publicity. You know. So all the magazines will write about how the actual sister is playing a part in her own family’s horror movie.”
Bo’s mouth dropped open. His cheeks colored behind the stubble. “I hired Kody because she’s a talented actress,” he told Persia. He said it softly, patiently, as if explaining something to a child.
“I really hate this wig. It’s so tacky,” Persia complained.
She was deliberately changing the subject, Kody realized. Persia had gotten her nasty dig in about why Kody was hired. That’s all she cared about.
“Talk to Wardrobe,” Bo told her.
Persia held the wig up in front of her. “I guess it’s supposed to be tacky.” She turned to Kody. “It’s supposed to look like you—right?”
Kody opened her mouth to utter an angry reply.
But Rob broke the tension by laughing. He put a hand on Persia’s shoulder. “Hey, Persia—don’t be so friendly. You’ll ruin your image.”
Persia made a disgusted face and wriggled her shoulder out of Rob’s grasp. “Rob, you were great in your dog food commercial,” she said nastily. “Really. That was your best work!”
“Come on, guys—!” Bo pleaded. “We start shooting tomorrow. We’ve got to work together—right? And by the way, we won’t be doing the kitchen scene. It’s going to take a while to clean up in there. We’re going to do some close-up stuff instead. You know. Reaction shots. In the backyard. Just to get warmed up.”
Rob let out a sigh of relief.
The light in the trailer suddenly faded. It took Kody a few seconds to realize that something had blocked the sunlight from the window. She turned to see a face staring in at her.
“Ohh.” Kody let out a low cry as she recognized the man.
He was so pale. His round black eyes peered in at her.
What was his name? Where did she know him from?
“Who is that?” she cried.
“Oh. Yeah. I’ve got to go talk to him,” Bo said, getting up from the chair. He had to stoop. “His name is Lurie, I think. He’s a local real estate guy. He’s leasing us the house. See you later, guys. Get lots of sleep, okay? I want beautiful faces tomorrow.”
He pushed past them and lowered himself out of the trailer.
Lurie. Lurie.
He looks so familiar, Kody thought, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach.
Was he the man who sold Daddy the house two years ago?
She struggled to remember as she followed Rob and Persia out onto the street.
At the bottom of the driveway the catering crew was packing up. Electrical workers on the front lawn were closing up their cases, putting away equipment, preparing to leave.
“There’s the car to take us to the hotel,” Rob said, pointing. “You coming?”
“I have my own car,” Persia told him. “Besides, I’ve rented a house. I’m not staying in a hotel.”
“I’m coming,” Kody said.
But Persia blocked her path. “Listen, Kody, I—I— want to apologize for my jokes,” she said, her dark eyes studying Kody. “I have a rotten sense of humor. Everyone tells me that.” She shrugged.
“That’s okay,” Kody replied, trying not to show how surprised she was by this unexpected apology.
“Well, I just wanted to tell you one thing, Kody,” Persia continued, speaking in a low, confidential voice. “If you’re too freaked out by all this—I mean, if you’re too scared and upset, I think everyone will understand if you drop out of the picture.” A cruel smile formed on her full lips.
“You mean quit?” Kody cried angrily.
Persia nodded, her smile growing wider.
“No way!” Kody insisted shrilly. “No way, Persia! I’m going to act in this movie whether you like it or not!”
“Don’t raise your voice to me,” Persia snapped haughtily. “I was just trying to save you from embarrassing yourself.”
“Well, I don’t need your help!” Kody sputtered, balling her hands into tight fists.
“You need all the help you can get!” Persia uttered.
Kody wasn’t really sure what came next or how the fight started. It all happened so fast.
Did she shove Persia?
Did Persia shove her?
Were they really grappling with each other, wrestling, trying to knock each other down?
It all seemed to be outside them, part of a movie, a really violent action movie. Except that it hurt when Persia pulled Kody’s hair. And Kody’s heart was pounding so hard, she had to struggle to breathe.
And then Persia’s fist struck hard. So hard.
“Persia—stop!”
Was that Kody shrieking like that?
“Stop! You’re hurting me!”
Chapter 7
Strong hands grabbed Kody by the shoulders and pulled her back. “Whoa!” Bo called. “Whoa! Easy now! Whoa!”
Rob stepped in front of Persia, blocking her from Kody.
Bo pulled Kody into the shade of the trailer. Her chest heaving, gasping for breath, she pressed her back against the metal wall.
Bo moved toward Persia, bewildered. “What was that about?” he demanded softly.
Bo always stays calm, Kody realized, trying to slow her racing heart. The angrier he gets, the quieter he speaks.
“Just getting in the mood,” Persia replied, pushing damp strands of crimped black hair off her forehead. “I mean, I’m trying to get the feelings right.”
“Huh?” Rob gaped at her in disbelief. “You mean—?”
Bo shook his head, frowning at Persia.
“Kody and I are very competitive sisters, right?” Persia said, straightening the bottom of her tank top. “We don’t get along. So I’m just trying to get into character. I’m just trying to get my angry juices flowing. You know. Get into the competitive spirit.”
“But, Persia—” Kody protested.
Persia opened her eyes wide as she turned to Kody. “Hey, you didn’t think I was really angry—did you? You knew I was acting, right?”
Persia didn’t give Kody a chance to reply. “If you couldn’t tell I was acting, you really are in bad shape!” she declared.
Persia is doin
g everything she can to make me look bad in front of Bo, Kody realized.
Bo rubbed his chin, his eyes on Persia. “I appreciate your dedication,” he said dryly. “But it’s a little late for rehearsing, don’t you think?”
“Whatever,” Persia muttered. “Ciao, everyone.” She waved, flashing Kody a triumphant smile. Then she turned and made her way quickly to the white stretch limo waiting for her at the end of the line of trailers.
“I don’t believe her!” Kody declared, starting to feel a little more normal.
“Save your anger,” Bo told her. “Remember how you feel right now. Save it for when we shoot. You’ll need it.” Shaking his head, he hurried up the lawn to talk to the sound crew.
“You okay?” Rob asked, his expression concerned.
“Yeah. I guess,” Kody replied shakily. “Persia really thinks she can get away with anything—doesn’t she!”
“She probably can,” Rob replied seriously. “Ready to go to your hotel?” He pointed to the black car waiting across the street.
“Know what? I’m going to cool out in my trailer for a while,” Kody replied. “Just till I catch my breath. Send the car back for me—okay?”
She could see disappointment on Rob’s face.
I think he likes me, Kody thought. The idea pleased her.
But then she told herself: Rob seems to like everyone. He’s a really friendly, warm, outgoing guy.
Don’t start getting ideas, Kody, she scolded herself. Rob grew up in Beverly Hills. He’s been around movie and TV stars his whole life.
Why would he be interested in me?
But then, to her complete surprise, he leaned forward, wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and kissed her.
A long kiss. A hungry kiss.
Kody felt so startled, she just stood there at first. But then she eagerly returned the kiss, moving her mouth over his.
He turned away quickly, ending the kiss, and started toward the car with long, loping strides. “I’ll be in my room later,” he called back to her. “If you want to call me.”
She watched him climb into the backseat of the car. He gave her a quick wave as the driver pulled away.
Kody shut her eyes. She could still taste Rob’s lips on hers.
Does he really like me? she wondered.
Or was he just acting? Like Persia. Trying to get into character.
He’s just an actor. They’re all actors.
She realized she wasn’t thinking clearly. It had been such an upsetting, exciting, horrifying day—a day of one emotion piling on top of another.
She climbed the three low steps and pushed open the door to her trailer. The sun had lowered behind the trees. She stepped into the darkness, pulled the door shut behind her, and made her way blindly to the low couch against the wall.
Darkness. Cool, quiet darkness, she thought.
She lay down and stretched out on the unfamiliar couch. The leather felt cool against her skin. The air inside the trailer smelled stale. She lowered an arm over her eyes, seeking complete darkness.
I probably should have gone back to the hotel, she thought. But I need a few minutes alone. A few minutes to catch my breath. To think.
She pictured Persia. Persia’s taunting eyes. Persia’s cruel smile.
How am I going to deal with her? How? Kody wondered.
I can’t ignore her. We’ll be working together for weeks and weeks. We have so many scenes together.
I can’t try to compete with her. There’s no way I can be as sarcastic and cutting. And I don’t want to be.
I can’t compete with her. But can I get along with her?
With these troubled thoughts floating through her mind, Kody drifted into a troubled sleep.
A knock on the door startled her awake.
At first, staring into blackness, she had no idea where she was. The coolness of the leather couch under her hands reminded her.
When did I fall asleep? she wondered. How long have I been sleeping?
Her T-shirt clung to her back. Her throat felt dry and sore.
She reached out, struggling to find the lamp switch. But she lowered her hand when she heard the knocks.
Three short, soft knocks.
Tap tap tap.
A pause. Then three more.
Tap tap tap.
“No!” she cried in a choked whisper.
The soft tapping on the trailer door sent chills down her back.
She jumped to her feet.
I remember those knocks.
Yes, I remember them. The soft knocks of a ghost. Standing stiffly in the darkness of the narrow trailer, Kody froze.
Tap tap tap.
The same sounds Kody had tapped on Cally’s bedroom door.
Two years ago. Kody had pretended to be a ghost. Late at night she had knocked softly like that on her sister’s door.
Three soft taps, then three more.
But now Cally was dead. And Kody was standing frozen in a strange, dark trailer, her neck tingling with fear, her skin cold, her heart thudding, listening— listening to the same soft taps.
Remembering.
Listening.
“Cally—is that you?”
Tap tap tap.
Kody dove for the door. Pushed it open with both hands.
And peered out.
Chapter 8
No one there.
Kody stared out at the front yard of her old house.
No one. The workers had all left.
“Cally—were you here?” Kody whispered. “Did you knock on my door?”
Silence.
Somewhere down the block a baby was crying.
Kody saw a yellow beam of light darting near the house. The light from a flashlight carried by one of the night security guards. The beam played over the shrubs against the front wall, then disappeared around the side of the house.
Without realizing it, Kody stepped out and wandered onto the grass. She stared up at the house, looming black against the purple evening sky.
The two upstairs windows seemed to stare down at her like eyes—cold, unfeeling eyes. That was my bedroom, she remembered. And Cally’s was down the hall.
Kody swallowed hard. She missed her sister so much.
She moved closer, drawn to the house.
Drawn back to her memories.
Wet grass clung to her sneakers. A heavy dew had fallen.
Somewhere down the block the baby continued to cry. Short, shrill howls.
Kody stepped over cables and around metal cases of equipment and made her way to the window beside the front door.
Here I am, standing on this spot again.
Staring into this house. Into this dark living room.
A dim light in back.
She blinked. Once. Twice.
Is it just my imagination? My eyes playing tricks on me?
No. Pale light filtered into the hallway, casting long shadows over the carpet.
Someone left the kitchen light on, Kody realized. Maybe they’re still working in there. Maybe they’re still cleaning up.
Once again she pictured Sam McCarthy holding his hand up. The blood spurting over his arm. The lifeless, mangled fingers.
Are they working in the kitchen?
Or, Cally, is it you?
Cally. Cally. Cally.
Cally, you’re the real reason I came back, Kody thought, moving to the front door.
Pushing the door open. Stepping into the narrow entryway.
Cally, I promised I’d come back to find you. I saw you the day we left, watching so sadly from the window. I saw you, Cally.
And now I’ve come back to keep my promise.
Are you here, Cally? Is that your light in the kitchen?
Have you been in this house these past two years, waiting, waiting for me?
Crazy thoughts, Kody knew. Such crazy, frightening thoughts.
But here she was. Walking silently through the back hallway. Toward the light. The pale light from the kitchen.
Staring at the figure bent over the sink.
Staring at her in shock.
Covering her mouth to keep from crying out.
Chapter 9
Kody sank back into the shadows. She didn’t want to be seen.
Is that really Mrs. Nordstrom? she asked herself.
Is that really our old housekeeper scrubbing the sink?
Staying close to the wall, Kody leaned warily into the kitchen. The old woman had her back to Kody as she bent over the sink, scrubbing vigorously. But Kody recognized her.
What is she doing in this house after everyone has left? Does she still come here every day? Does she still work here?
“Mrs. Nordstrom!” Kody called out, hurrying across the kitchen.
The old housekeeper turned from the sink, her mouth open in surprise. She squinted across the room. “Cally—is that you?”
Kody stopped in the center of the room. “No, it’s Kody. I’m Kody.”
Mrs. Nordstrom wiped her hands on a dish towel. Her hands still dripping, she moved forward and wrapped Kody in a quick, wet hug. “What a surprise, child. It’s been so long! How is your family?”
“Okay,” Kody replied. “I mean, better. They’re living in Los Angeles. They—well—you know, Mrs. Nordstrom.”
The old woman tsk-tsked. “So much sadness,” she murmured. “The family that moved in after you. So much sadness for them too. The boy was about your age. Brandt. He died too.” She shook her head. “So sad.”
Kody shuddered. “You look exactly the same, Mrs. Nordstrom. I guess I’d better let you get back to work.”
“I’m scrubbing the blood,” Mrs. Nordstrom replied sadly. “It’s so hard to scrub up.” She turned back to the sink. “Come see me again—okay, child?”
“Okay,” Kody replied softly. She backed away, watching the housekeeper, who hummed to herself as she scrubbed at the dark bloodstains in the sink.
Kody backed into the comforting darkness of the hallway. Then turned into the living room. Stepping over the electrical cables, she waited for her eyes to adjust.
The furniture was all strange. All new. The set designers had brought all the furniture from Los Angeles.