Wrong Number 2 Read online

  Deena turned and stumbled in the darkness over to the far wall. The bench was covered with rusted tools, stacks of papers, and stained rags. At one end of the table she found some short coils of rope.

  “Here,” she said, handing the rope to Farberson.

  “Good,” he snapped. He took one of the lengths and tossed it back to Deena. “Take the rope and tie up buddy-boy here.” He squinted at Chuck. “What happened to your head, kid? A truck run over it?”

  “I got in a fight,” Chuck muttered, feeling his wound. “And someone just knocked me out.”

  “Guess I’m not the only one who doesn’t like you,” Farberson growled. “Aren’t you hurting enough? Don’t you want to tell me the truth about my money so I don’t have to mess you up more?”

  “I told you—” Chuck started to say.

  “Tie up his hands and feet,” Farberson ordered Deena.

  “No—please!” Deena begged.

  Farberson waved the pistol. “It’s got real bullets in it,” he said dryly. “I know you kids think this is some kind of Nancy Drew adventure story, but it’s not. It’s all real. And if I don’t get my money, I’m really going to hurt you.”

  Deena swallowed hard. She realized that she had no choice.

  Chuck turned around and clasped his hands behind his back. Deena began winding the rope around them. She made the knots as loose as possible while pretending to pull them tight.

  When she’d finished binding Chuck’s hands, she turned to Farberson. “Should I do his feet now?”

  “Just a minute,” Farberson snarled. He set his lantern on the floor and walked over to Deena and Chuck. He tugged at the rope around Chuck’s hands.

  “Too loose!” he fumed. “Do you think I’m a moron?” Before Deena could back away, Farberson lashed out and slapped her across the face with the back of his hand. “Now do it right!” he demanded.

  Deena staggered back against the wall. Blinking back tears, she tried to ignore the stinging pain and unwound the ropes. With trembling hands she retied them, tighter this time.

  It took only a few minutes to bind Chuck and Jade. Now they were seated side by side on the cold floor, their backs against the wall, helpless, unable to move their hands or feet.

  “Good job,” Farberson said solemnly. “Now you.” He slid the gun into his pants pocket and grabbed Deena’s hand.

  She tried to pull away. But he was much stronger.

  He jerked her arm so hard, she felt it was coming out of the socket. “I can make this easier,” he threatened. “I can knock you out.”

  Deena stopped struggling and stood meekly while Farberson tied her hands together. He shoved her down on the floor and tied her feet next. Then he pushed her against the wall beside Jade.

  Deena tried to stay in control, to fight the tears that threatened to flow. The ropes bit into her wrists and ankles.

  Farberson stared at them grimly. “I really don’t have time for this,” he muttered. “Does anyone want to save us all a lot of trouble and pain? Anyone want to tell me where my money is?”

  “For the last time,” Chuck pleaded in a hoarse, frightened voice. “We don’t know!”

  “We’ll see,” Farberson replied, frowning. “I guess we’ll see in a few minutes what you know and don’t know.”

  Whistling a tuneless melody, he crossed to the other side of the basement, where most of the tools were piled. Through the gloom Deena could see him rummaging around in the piles of junk.

  Then he straightened up and came lumbering back to them.

  He was carrying something in each hand.

  Deena shut her eyes and let out a frightened cry when she saw what he was carrying.

  A gallon can of gasoline.

  And a chain saw.

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  When Deena opened her eyes, she saw Jade twisting at her ropes, struggling to burst free. Chuck stared straight ahead. But Deena caught the fear on his face, saw his chin quivering as Farberson bent over the ugly chain saw.

  “I wonder if it still cuts,” Farberson murmured more to himself than to his prisoners.

  Deena shuddered. She could still remember her terror a year earlier, when Farberson had come after her and Jade with the saw. How helpless they had felt, trapped high in a tree. How the tree had begun to shake as the whirring saw cut into it.

  “Give us a break!” Chuck exclaimed. “We told you everything we know. I looked for the money. But I didn’t find it!”

  “We’ll see,” Farberson replied calmly. “Let me get my lie detector running here.”

  “Please!” Jade begged. “Please let us go! We won’t tell anyone we saw you. We—we’ll help you look for the money!” she volunteered.

  “Yes!” Deena chimed in. “That’s right. We’ll help you look for it.”

  Ignoring them, Farberson opened the can of gasoline. Then he tilted it over the chain saw’s tank.

  The gasoline made a glug, glug, glug sound as it flowed into the saw.

  Deena suddenly pictured her room at home. So warm. So comfortable. So—safe.

  I wonder if I’ll ever see it again, she thought. A loud sob escaped her throat.

  Farberson glanced up. “Were you volunteering to go first?” he asked Deena.

  “No. I—” Deena started to say. But her voice cracked. She felt hot tears rolling down her cheeks.

  “Okay. I think the lie detector is ready,” Farberson told her. “You can go first.”

  He tugged at the rope. The chain saw coughed but didn’t start.

  Please don’t start! Deena begged silently. Please don’t work!

  But with a second tug of the rope, the chain saw roared to life.

  At the sound of the grinding whine, Deena felt her stomach lurch. When she and Jade had been imprisoned in the tree, the grinding, ear-jarring roar had been the most terrifying part of their ordeal.

  The chain saw’s shrill whine echoed through the dark basement. As if hypnotized, Deena stared at it, stared at the whirling chain, the sharp, rotating teeth.

  “You’ve got to believe us!” Deena wailed, tears sliding down her cheeks. But she knew that Farberson couldn’t hear her above the roar.

  Farberson’s face was set in determination, his eyes narrowed. He cut through the air with the saw, swooping it low over Deena’s feet.

  Deena pressed back against the stone wall. Her entire body rigid as if she had died, as if she were already stiffening up.

  Farberson swooped the roaring saw down again. Deena shut her eyes.

  Is he really going to cut us?

  Why won’t he believe us?

  Farberson bent low, his face hovering over Deena’s, so low she could smell onions on his breath. “Do you want to tell me now?” he shouted. “Where is it? Where is the money?”

  “I don’t know!” Deena screamed. “I really don’t know!”

  “Think hard!” he bellowed. “Does this help you think?” He brought the saw high up in the air, then began to lower it.

  Deena couldn’t move. Couldn’t blink. Couldn’t take her eyes from the whirring teeth of the blade.

  “Tell me!” Farberson demanded furiously. “Someone tell me where the money is! Tell me now, or I’ll cut her! I’ll cut her bad!”

  “Stop it!” Chuck yelled.

  Jade let out a horrified shriek. The shrill sound blending with the whine of the chain saw.

  Slowly, slowly Farberson lowered the saw toward Deena’s shoulder.

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  Deena opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

  The saw loomed so near, she could feel the hot air from its whirring chain.

  She pressed her back hard into the stone wall, trying to disappear into the wall. The whining roar cut through her mind, sharp as the teeth on the hovering chain saw.

  Farberson lowered the saw. Closer. Closer. So close she could see every detail of his hands. She could see the hair on the back of his hand, the dirt under his fingernails, the
white marks across his knuckles as he squeezed tight on the handle.

  He’s going to cut me, Deena knew.

  He isn’t faking. He’s going to cut me now.

  She shut her eyes as the grinding roar vibrated her entire body.

  “Stop!”

  Chuck’s desperate cry from beside her.

  “Stop!”

  Deena opened her eyes.

  Farberson raised the saw an inch. Two inches.

  “Don’t hurt her!” Chuck screamed. “I’ll tell you the truth!”

  Farberson straightened up. He held the saw over Deena, but he shifted his gaze to Chuck.

  “Please stop!” Chuck repeated. “I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “I’m waiting,” shouted Farberson.

  “First move away from her!” Chuck demanded.

  “You aren’t in any position to bargain!” Farberson replied sharply. “Now, tell me where the money is!”

  “I don’t know where it is,” Chuck began, “but—”

  “No good!” Farberson shouted. He turned and lowered the chain saw over Deena.

  Deena screamed.

  “Wait!” Chuck yelled. “Listen to me!”

  Farberson’s face reflected his disgust. He switched the chain saw off.

  The silence seemed as loud as the chain saw’s roar.

  Deena sucked in a deep breath. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Her chest heaved. Her entire body trembled.

  Beside her, she heard Jade sobbing.

  “All right,” Farberson demanded. “Let’s hear it.”

  “You were right,” Chuck told him. “I came here to look for the money. And—the truth is that I found it.”

  “Where?” Farberson demanded. A crafty smile had spread over his face.

  “In the last bedroom upstairs,” Chuck said. “In the closet, under some loose floorboards.”

  Farberson shifted slightly. His entire attention was now on Chuck. “So where is it?” he demanded.

  “I don’t know,” Chuck told him.

  Farberson made a snarling noise and moved the chain saw in his hands.

  Desperately Chuck added, “Someone hit me and took it! When I woke up, I was lying in the closet. And the money was gone!”

  For a moment Farberson stared at Chuck. Then he shook his head. “You found the money—and someone else stole it?” he said sarcastically. “This house sure is crowded tonight!”

  “That’s what’s happened!” Chuck insisted shrilly.

  Farberson shook his head. “No way I’m going to believe that,” he growled.

  “It’s the truth!” Chuck cried. “I found it. I had it in my hands. But someone took it from me.”

  “I guess you don’t care so much about your friend after all!” Farberson snapped.

  “I’m telling you the truth!” Chuck insisted, pleading.

  “You know what?” said Farberson. “I don’t care if it is. I don’t have my money. But I do have you—exactly where I want you.”

  He shifted the chain saw. “You’ve been nothing but trouble to me,” he growled. “Everything that’s happened has been your fault!”

  “Wait!” Chuck cried.

  But Farberson wasn’t listening. His eyes grew wide with excitement. His face tightened. With a hard yank he started up the saw again.

  Deena stared up in terror as Farberson hovered over her again. She could see the wild glow in his eyes.

  He’s gone over the edge! she realized.

  He doesn’t even care about the money. He doesn’t care what he does to us.

  He wants revenge.

  Farberson inched closer. Closer still.

  The shrill whine of the blade cut through Deena’s mind.

  The whirring teeth lowered toward her throat.

  He isn’t going to stop this time, Deena knew.

  He isn’t going to stop.

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  Deena shut her eyes. Every muscle in her body tightened.

  The chain saw roared louder.

  Then was turned off.

  Huh? What’s going on? she wondered.

  She opened her eyes to see Farberson staring up at the top of the stairs.

  “Hey!” Farberson screamed, startled.

  Her entire body trembling, her chest heaving, Deena raised her eyes to the stairs.

  At first all she saw was the beam of white from a flashlight.

  As her eyes adjusted, a figure came into view. A dark raincoat. A sleeve moved. A gloved hand.

  The hand held a silvery pistol.

  The pistol was pointed at Farberson.

  “Put down the saw, Stanley.” Deena recognized the voice. Then she saw Linda Morrison’s stern face as the woman made her way down the stairs.

  Oh, thank goodness! Deena told herself.

  Farberson turned away from Deena to face Linda Morrison. “What are you doing here?” he demanded, quickly getting over his surprise.

  “Who is that?” Deena heard Chuck whisper to Jade.

  “It’s Linda,” Jade whispered back. “Linda Morrison!”

  Linda stepped onto the basement floor. She motioned with the pistol. “Drop the saw,” she repeated. “And move away from my friends.”

  Farberson kept the chain saw waist-high. “Your friends, huh?” he murmured. He lowered his gaze to her pistol. “That little gun doesn’t scare me, Linda. I don’t think you’d shoot me.”

  “Try me,” she challenged.

  Farberson squinted at her, thinking hard.

  She moved steadily toward him, kicking empty cartons and garbage out of her path. “You’re not going to hurt my friends,” she said softly.

  Farberson turned uncertainly, then began to back up toward the opposite wall. “Linda—what’s your problem?” he demanded. “I thought that you and I—”

  She took another step toward him. “Put down the saw, Stanley. I’m not going to warn you again.”

  Deena swallowed hard as she watched them. It was as if they were involved in some kind of weird dance. With every step she took forward, he took one back. He was still holding the chain saw with both hands. But the anger had faded from his face, replaced now by fear.

  Thank goodness she came to save us, Deena thought. If she had come a few seconds later . . .

  But Deena realized she and Jade and Chuck weren’t safe yet. First Linda Morrison had to do something about Farberson.

  “I’m going to count to five,” Linda told him sternly. “If you don’t drop the chain saw, I’ll shoot you, Stanley.”

  He snickered. “You’re kidding, right? This is a joke. You can’t be pals with these kids.” He took another step back, his eyes locked on the pistol in her hand.

  “One,” she said.

  He backed up another step, bumping a stack of cartons. “Let’s get serious, okay, Linda? You and I—”

  “Two,” she counted.

  “Linda, please—” Now Farberson was begging.

  “Three,” she answered, her voice hard and cold.

  Is she really going to shoot him? Deena wondered, watching the tense scene without blinking, without breathing. Morrison had been in love with him. Would she really shoot him now?

  “Let me explain—” Farberson pleaded, taking another step back.

  “Time’s running out, Stanley,” she replied calmly. “Four.”

  “Linda—give me a break,” he muttered. “This is stupid. Let’s you and I—”

  “Five!” she shouted. She raised the gun.

  “All right!” Farberson cried. “You win! I’ll put it down!”

  He swung the chain saw down.

  But instead of lowering it to the floor, he gave the rope a hard jerk.

  With a deafening roar, the saw whirred to life.

  Morrison cried out angrily.

  Farberson raised the grinding saw—and dove toward her.

  Deena gasped as she saw Farberson stumble.

  He fell over a carton.

  The saw slipped out of his gra
sp and clattered onto the concrete floor.

  He shot out his hands. His eyes wild.

  He grabbed at air.

  And fell onto the roaring saw.

  The shrill whine of the cutting teeth drowned out Farberson’s scream.

  The whirring chain cut through his chest. Deena turned away sickened.

  Then silence.

  A heavy, cold silence.

  “He’s dead,” Linda Morrison murmured, standing over Farberson’s body, sprawled facedown over the saw. “Stanley is dead.”

  The horror is over, Deena thought gratefully. We’re okay. We’re going to be okay.

  “I can’t believe he’s gone,” Morrison said, sighing.

  “It—it was an accident,” Deena stammered. “We all know you didn’t mean it to happen.”

  Morrison stepped away from the body and turned to Deena. “No,” she said softly. “Not an accident.”

  “Huh?” Deena glanced at Jade, who was still trembling, tears running down her cheeks.

  “Not an accident,” Morrison repeated. “I planned to kill Stanley. That’s why I came back. He just made it easier for me.”

  She sighed and slapped the barrel of the gun against her gloved hand. Then she raised her eyes to Deena, Jade, and Chuck. “Now I just have to figure out what to do with you,” she said.

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  “I’m afraid you’ve become a problem,” Linda Morrison said, frowning.

  “You don’t need to worry about us,” Chuck spoke up. “We saw what happened. Farberson fell. It was his own fault. A total accident.”

  “Who’s going to believe that?” Morrison snapped. “Besides, if he hadn’t killed himself, I would have shot him—and he knew it.”

  “But I thought you were so afraid of him,” Jade cried. “I thought you said he threatened you.”

  “I was afraid of him,” Morrison replied. “I had good reason to be. He knew I wanted the money. And I knew he’d do anything to keep me from getting it.”

  She began pacing back and forth. Deena stared hard at her. She was wearing a stylish new raincoat. She had carefully made up her face and had a new hairdo.

  “Wow. I get it,” Chuck declared. “You were the one who hit me on the head and took the money.”