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Wrong Number 2 Page 8
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Deena felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
“I can’t wait to get home,” Jade said. “I’m going to take the hottest bath I can, and drink about a gallon of cocoa.”
“Great idea,” Deena said. “So what are we waiting for?”
She was already halfway down the hall, making her way quickly toward the stairs, when Jade’s voice stopped her. “Deena—come back. Check this out!”
“Huh?” Deena turned around, the light bobbing in front of her.
“I just found this on the floor,” Jade said. “It looks like—oh, no!”
Deena lowered the light to Jade’s hand. She was holding a clear, flat plastic ring.
It took Deena a few seconds to recognize it.
She gasped when she finally realized it was an ID bracelet, the kind hospitals give to patients.
Trembling, Deena took the bracelet and examined it. A wave of fear swept over her. She already knew what the bracelet would say. But a hard shudder shook her body as she read: “Charles B. Martinson.”
“He’s here!” Jade breathed. “Or at least he was here.”
“But where?” Deena cried, uselessly searching the room.
No sign Chuck had been here. No sign anyone had been here, except for . . .
Deena’s flashlight stopped on the bare floor in front of the closet. In the quivering circle of light she saw several dark stains.
Deena hesitated. But Jade hurried to the closet and knelt down. She stuck out a finger, rubbed it on the floor.
In the white light from the flashlight, the tip of Jade’s finger came up red.
She gazed up at Deena, her face twisted in horror. “It’s blood,” Jade whispered.
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A strong wind rattled the windowpanes.
Then Deena heard another sound.
A soft rustling.
“Did you hear that?” she asked Jade in a whisper.
Jade listened hard. “Hear what?”
“There it is again,” Deena insisted. “I think it’s coming from inside the closet.”
“Huh? We searched the closet,” Jade replied.
Taking a deep breath, Deena stepped around Jade and pulled the closet door all the way open.
Nothing in there.
Just the pile of women’s clothing. Sweaters and skirts.
“Ohhhh.” Deena let out a moan as the clothing started to move.
“Deena—what is it?” Jade moved up behind her.
They both stared in shock as the skirts and sweaters began to rise.
Two arms shot out from under the clothes. Someone groaned. “Deena. Jade. Is that you?”
The clothing fell away. Chuck raised himself to a sitting position on the closet floor. He stared up, squinting against the beam of light. His forehead was bruised, and a wide smear of blood covered the right side of his head.
“Chuck!” Deena managed to choke out.
“What are you doing in there?” Jade demanded. “What happened?”
“Where is it?” he groaned, rubbing the wound on the side of his head.
“Where is what?” Jade demanded.
“The money! Someone took the money!” He pushed himself to his knees and started to stand up. But he instantly sat down again, holding his head.
“There’s no money here,” Deena insisted. “What are you talking about?”
“I found it,” Chuck mumbled groggily.
“You found what?” Jade cried. “You found the money?”
He nodded, still squinting, still rubbing his head. “It was in a metal box under the floorboards. I pulled it out. But then I heard a noise.”
“What happened?” Jade asked.
“That’s the last thing I remember,” Chuck groaned. He leaned back against the wall of the closet. “Someone must have hit me and taken it.”
“Let’s talk about it later,” Deena urged. “We’ve got to get out of here.”
Both girls knelt beside Chuck. The hospital bandage around his head had come half unwrapped. Beneath it, Deena could see the stitches from the wound he had received in the fight with Teddy. Next to the stitches she saw a new cut oozing blood into his hair.
“You’re still bleeding,” Jade told him softly. She took an edge of her scarf and tenderly dabbed at the blood.
“Come on, Chuck,” Deena urged. “Get up. We’ll help you.”
Leaning heavily on both girls, he managed to stand up. He took a deep breath. “Wow! What a headache!” he cried.
“No wonder,” Deena told him. “You have another big cut on your head.”
“So what happened?” Jade asked as they awkwardly made their way into the hallway.
“I hitched a ride from the hospital,” Chuck reported. “When I got here, it was still light out. The kitchen door was unlocked, so I came in. Then I started searching for the money, but everything was trashed and ripped apart.”
“Tell me about it,” Jade murmured.
“Anyway,” Chuck continued as they helped him down the hall, “I tried to think of a weird place Farberson might have hidden the money. Someplace his girlfriend hadn’t thought of.”
“Where would that be?” Deena exclaimed. “She even ripped off the wallpaper in some of the rooms.”
Halfway down the hall, Deena stopped.
What was that sound? Footsteps downstairs?
No. Just the old house creaking in the strong wind.
“So where did you look?” Jade asked.
“I realized that Morrison had searched everywhere but the floor,” Chuck replied, sounding stronger. “So I started going through the house room by room, searching for any floorboards that seemed loose, or didn’t seem to match the others.”
“And?” Deena asked eagerly.
“It took me a really long time,” Chuck continued. “Finally, in the closet of the last bedroom, I found two floorboards that didn’t quite match. The wood seemed to be newer.
“I found a letter opener in the desk in the other room. I used it to pry the boards up. And there it was.” He stopped for a moment and leaned against the wall. “All hundred- and five-hundred-dollar bills. I never saw so much money in my life! It was awesome!”
“And someone hit you and took it!” Jade exclaimed.
Chuck nodded. “I guess.”
“Farberson,” Deena said firmly. “Farberson was here already.”
“Huh? What are you talking about?” Chuck demanded, squinting hard at her.
They told Chuck about Farberson’s release from prison. “That’s why we’re here,” Deena finished. “We came to warn you.”
“How long ago did he get out?” Chuck demanded.
“We’re not positive,” Deena replied. “Come on. We’ve got to hurry.”
But Jade held back, her features tight. “He could still be here,” she murmured. “Farberson could still be in this house.”
“Cool!” Chuck cried. “Then I could punch out his lights and take the money back from him!”
“Are you crazy?” Deena wailed. “Chuck, you can hardly walk. Farberson probably has a gun. He nearly killed us once. Let’s just get out of this house and go home!”
“Let’s get out before he has a chance to come back,” Jade urged.
“All right. All right,” Chuck said grudgingly. “I’m still a little dizzy. Let’s go.”
“Lean on me,” Jade instructed. She put one arm around Chuck’s waist and began to help him down the stairs.
Deena made her way quickly to the living room. As she looked back to Chuck and Jade, it seemed as if they were moving in slow motion.
What if Farberson was still in the house?
“Come on, guys—hurry!” she pleaded.
“We’re going as fast as we can,” Jade called down. “We don’t want Chuck to suddenly faint or something.”
“I’m feeling steadier,” Chuck said. They reached the bottom of the stairs. Deena saw him pull away from Jade. “I can walk on my own now,” he reporte
d.
They made their way through the darkness to the kitchen. Stepping over the trash on the floor, Deena thought, I hope I never, never, never see this horrible house again!
And then a light flared. Yellow light. Outside the kitchen door. Flickering in through the filthy window.
“Someone’s out there!” Chuck exclaimed.
They ducked behind the kitchen counter as the door opened.
Wind howled into the room.
The light revealed the silhouette of a tall, heavy man.
The silhouette of Stanley Farberson.
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Deena’s legs turned to rubber. Her entire body shuddered.
Farberson stood in the doorway, his stern features reflected in the glow of a big camp lantern.
“Quick!” Chuck whispered, and shoved them through a door right behind them.
“Careful!” he cautioned after he silently pulled the door shut. “It’s a stairway to the basement.”
Huddling on the landing, Deena heard Farberson lumber into the house. She stood squeezed between her brother and the wall, terrified, almost afraid to breathe. Behind her she could feel the damp chill of the basement.
She glanced at Jade on the other side of Chuck. Jade stared straight ahead at the door, stiff as a mannequin.
Farberson’s heavy footsteps came nearer.
Was he going to pull open the basement door and find them standing there?
No. The footsteps faded. Into another room.
Why did he come back? Deena wondered. He already has the money. What made him come back to this dump?
“Let’s go downstairs,” Chuck whispered. “There’s got to be a way out from there.”
He took the flashlight from Deena and aimed it on the stairs. They were old and splintered. Several steps were missing.
They made their way down slowly. Deena ignored the scuttling sounds, the pittering of tiny feet.
The rats can run around all they want, she thought, shivering. I’m going to be out of here in seconds.
The basement came dimly into view as Chuck swept the beam of light along the walls and floor. Trash cluttered every inch—rags, papers, machinery parts, a shovel without a handle. Along the walls, battered cardboard cartons reached to the ceiling.
“I don’t see a window,” Jade cried, her voice shaking.
“There’s got to be one!” Chuck declared. “Follow me.”
A loud noise behind them made them freeze.
It’s him! Deena realized.
The sound repeated. She raised her eyes to the basement ceiling. Farberson was walking above them.
He’ll leave soon, she told herself. He’ll find what he came for—and he’ll leave. And then the three of us can leave too.
“Come on,” Chuck urged. “Where’s a window?”
The clomping footsteps stopped.
“I think he’s gone,” Jade whispered, eyes raised to the low ceiling.
“Probably went upstairs,” Chuck replied, listening hard. “Don’t think about him. Let’s find a way out of here.” Once again he swept the flashlight around the dark, cluttered basement.
“Isn’t that a window back there?” Jade asked. She pointed to the back wall, where the old cartons were piled the highest.
Deena squinted and could see it too—a dark rectangle peeking out from behind a stack of cartons.
They hurried to the back wall. “Come on,” Chuck urged. “Let’s move the boxes.”
The top box was too high to pull down. Chuck piled two cartons beside the tall stack. Then he climbed up on them.
As Deena and Jade held his legs steady, he reached up—reached—reached—
“Look out!” he cried.
Deena and Jade stumbled back as the carton toppled to the basement floor.
“You okay?” Chuck called, jumping down. “It was so heavy. It slipped out of my hands.”
“What if Farberson heard that?” Deena wondered out loud.
They listened.
Silence. Except for the wind battering the house.
“With the carton out of the way, can we get to the window?” Deena asked.
“Let’s see.” Chuck boosted himself over the pile of boxes and climbed up to the window. A moment later he dropped back down to the floor. “No way,” he said glumly. “It’s painted shut. And it’s too small to climb through anyway.”
“But it’s the only window!” Jade cried, her face pale in the flashlight’s glow.
“That means we’re trapped here,” Deena said. All at once she felt hopeless. Last year was repeating itself. They were trapped here, here in this frightening house, trapped with a killer.
“Take it easy, Deena,” Chuck told her. “The basement’s a dead end. So we’ll just go back up through the house.”
“Are you crazy?” cried Deena. “He’s up there.”
“It’s a big house,” Chuck replied. “Farberson is probably upstairs. It’s only a few feet to the kitchen door. All we have to do is make sure the coast is clear, and make a run for it.”
“I—I guess,” Deena stammered.
“Hurry,” Chuck urged. “Let’s go back up.”
“Chuck,” Jade whispered, grabbing his arm. “Better turn off the flashlight. He might see it shining under the door.”
“Good thinking,” Chuck agreed. He clicked off the light.
Deena shuddered at the thought of climbing the rotted stairs in the dark. But she knew Jade was right.
They slowly pulled themselves up, leaning on the narrow banister.
They were nearly to the top when the door swung open and a bright light washed over them.
“Who’s there?” Farberson bellowed.
His eyes narrowed as he studied them. And then an unpleasant smile spread over his round face.
“A welcoming party!” he croaked, laughing. “You shouldn’t have. Really. You shouldn’t have.”
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Deena couldn’t take her eyes off Farberson. He had changed a lot in the past year.
He was dressed in a faded blue shirt and baggy gray trousers. His face, covered in a growth of whiskers, was leaner. Dark circles ringed his eyes.
“Get out of our way!” Chuck demanded, stepping in front of Jade and Deena. “Let us out of here.”
Farberson didn’t budge. He shook his head, his smile fading slowly. “Are you for real, kid?”
“I mean it!” Chuck insisted. He took another step up the stairs.
“Not one more step,” Farberson said softly. Deena saw something gleam in the man’s hand. A small automatic pistol.
He raised it slowly and gestured with it. “Downstairs, everyone,” he instructed. “Quickly.”
“Wh-what are you going to do?” Deena choked out.
Was he going to shoot all three of them and leave them in the basement? Had he been thinking about them all the time he was in prison, planning to take his revenge?
He didn’t answer Deena. “Hurry, everyone. Watch your step,” he called almost cheerfully.
Chuck scowled and started to resist. Then Deena saw his expression change. He sighed and led the way back down to the dark, cluttered basement.
“Good,” Farberson said when they had reached the bottom of the steps. He stood a few steps above them, holding the gun steady in his hand.
“All right,” he said. “This won’t take long.”
He raised the pistol and aimed it at Deena.
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The gun gleamed in the lantern light. Farberson held it steady in his right hand, pointed at Deena’s chest. His eyes moved from Deena to Jade to Chuck.
“I think I’ve got your attention,” he said, snickering. “Let’s make this short and sweet, okay?” He cleared his throat. “Just tell me where it is.”
“Tell you where what is?” Jade demanded in a quivering voice.
“Don’t play games,” Farberson replied without any emotion. “The money. Just tell m
e where the money is, and I’ll let you go.”
“Huh? The money? But we don’t know where it is!” Jade insisted.
“Why are you asking us?” Chuck broke in. “You took it!”
Farberson stared at Chuck thoughtfully. He moved the pistol so that it was aiming at Chuck’s chest. “I’m very disappointed,” he murmured. “I don’t like games. I really don’t. It’s been a long night, and I’m sure you’d like to go home, right? So tell me where the money is.”
“We don’t have it!” Deena cried. “That’s the truth!”
“Then why are you here?” Farberson demanded. “What are you doing in my house?”
No one spoke.
Deena glanced at Chuck and Jade. They looked as frightened as she felt.
Finally Chuck broke the silence with a long sigh. “Okay, okay,” he told Farberson. “We came here to look for the money. At least, I did. But I don’t have it. That’s the truth. I swear.” He raised his right hand as if taking an oath.
“You’re a bad liar, son,” Farberson replied.
“I’m not lying!” Chuck protested.
“If you didn’t take the money, then where is it?” Farberson demanded. “It’s not where I hid it.”
“Maybe—maybe someone else took it,” Deena suggested in a choked, frightened voice.
“Like who?” Farberson shot back. “The tooth fairy?”
“We don’t have it!” Chuck cried. “We—”
“I told you I don’t like games,” Farberson said, stepping into the basement. “I told you I’d let you leave as soon as you told me the truth.”
“But—but we are!” Deena sputtered.
“I bet I can make you tell me the truth,” Farberson said grimly. He pointed the gun at Deena. “You!” he barked, startling her by raising his voice for the first time.
“I—I don’t know anything!” Deena stammered.
“Go over to that workbench,” he ordered, gesturing to a litter-covered table against one wall. “You’ll find rope there. Bring it over here.”
Deena continued to stare at him.
“Now!” he snapped, raising the gun as if to hit her.