21 Dares: A Florida Suspense Mystery (18 page)

Chapter 21

A
bbie stared at the black silhouette of the building
in the distance. “It doesn’t look very safe.”

When they reached the old cigar factory, they found a five-story stone
building with plywood sheets in place of plate glass windows. Black-and-yellow
“No Trespassing” tape stretched out against a background of gray weathered
wood, blackened cracked glass, and dark stone.

 
“So what do I do, just walk into it and come
back out?” Abbie asked.

Susan
shrugged. “I guess it’s just another stop on the way.”

“On the way to where?
What’s the point? Is my
surprise guest in there?”

“I
doubt it,” Susan said. “It’s not how we
planned
it.”

“I’ll
tell you what they have planned.” Dharma paced as she talked, the layers of her
black dress flowing in the night breeze. “You’re going to walk in there and
it’s going to be all dark and scary, then McKenzie and her dumbass boyfriend
are going to jump out and scare you.”

“Makes
sense,” Susan said. “You know how McKenzie likes surprises.”

Abbie
stared at the old building then cautiously stepped forward.
There’d once been a gate at the
entrance, but it had long since blown away in a windstorm. An empty guard booth
still stood there, with broken windows and a ghostly rolling chair. Mostly
though, the place looked deserted.

She moved past the shack into the receiving
yard. Black smudges stained the concrete all the way to sidewalk leading into
the building. A faint tobacco stink hung in the air. Abbie wasn’t sure if that
was real or just her imagination. She stepped up to the front entrance. A chain
draped loosely around the left handle and spilled, link by link, down the metal
door and coiled on the cement. A busted padlock lay on the ground.
Abbie forced the doors
open. The rusty hinges squeaked as she entered the dark building.

Inside,
Abbie could barely see. She used the camera flash on her cell phone to light
her way. Once her eyes adjusted, she stepped quietly through the open room. The
bottom floor had been a receiving area, and there were still boxes and wood
pallets scattered about.
Four
bay doors were rolled shut, and the metal plates rippled and vibrated in the
wind. The windows along the front were boarded tight. Still, a little light
shined in through the gaps, highlighting mildewed boxes stacked along the
walls. A lone cockroach scurried across a box flap, twitching its antennae.

Abbie shined her light toward a pair of doors
that probably led to the stairwell. The second floor had been the main rolling
room. She wasn’t sure what was on the floors above that. She glanced up. The
ceiling creaked.

Abbie wondered if there was somebody walking
above her. A flicker caught her eye, and she moved her light toward a small
office just beyond the bay doors, near the stairwell. A soft light shimmered
and cast shadows on the office walls. Was someone in there?

 
“Hello?” she called out. There was no answer.
“McKenzie? Are you in here?”

Abbie
crossed the receiving bay, squinting in the darkness. She maneuvered around stacked
pallets and broken crates, and made her way to the grimy glass door. She
paused. Candles burned inside the little office.
Six.
Seven.
At least eight candles set on top a desk that was
pushed against the wall. Someone was here. She felt certain of that. And this
current dare was inside the empty office. Abbie took a deep breath, preparing
herself for a big surprise. McKenzie and Rocky would jump out from behind some
boxes. Yell. Scare her. Then they all would have a big laugh. She turned the
knob.

She
could make out dim shapes. The candles offered very little illumination and she
ran a hand along the wall for a light switch. She found it and flipped it.
Nothing happened. She ran her cell phone light from wall to wall.

It
appeared empty. No McKenzie. No Rocky. Nobody crouched down ready to jump out
and yell, “Surprise!” She aimed the light toward the desk.

It
took her several seconds to comprehend what she was looking at. Abbie focused
her light on the desktop amid the candles, taking a step to get a closer look.
She leaned forward, then immediately jumped back.
“Oh, my
God!”

A
plastic Gareth the Goodhearted Ghoul Halloween mask lay face-up on
the
 
desktop
. Its
empty eyeholes looked back at her. Its grey face smiled, mocking her. She could
almost hear it say,
Let’s
be friends
.

Abbie
tumbled backwards, falling to the concrete floor.

Crawling
on her hands and knees, then picking herself up, she ran out of the office. She
rushed through the big open room, her feet pounding. She stumbled over a
pallet, then another. She came to the entrance, pushed the front doors open and
rushed into receiving yard.

Susan,
Dharma and the twins were ahead of her, standing by the old guard shack. Abbie
raced toward them, screaming. Out of breath, she caught-up to the girls. She
bent at the waist with her hands on her knees. She inhaled deeply, and spoke
between breaths. “I-I-It’s not funny.”

“What
are you talking about?” Susan put a hand on Abbie’s back. Dharma kneeled beside
her.

“What’s
in there?”

Abbie
looked up at them. Her eyes widened.
“Gareth the Ghoul.”

“I
don’t get it. What’d you see?”

“Is
this some kind of sick joke?” Abbie stood up straight. “Why would you and
McKenzie put those masks in there? That cartoon terrifies me.”

“What
are you talking about?” Susan placed two hands on Abbie’s shoulders. “What did
you see in there?”

“Gareth
Halloween masks,” she said.

“Gareth
Halloween masks?” Dharma looked back at the old building. “I still don’t get it.
What’s the big deal?”

 
“The big deal is this is a cruel, crappy joke,”
Abbie looked at Dharma, then the twins, then at Susan. “It wasn’t funny. Not by
a long shot.”

“This
isn’t one of our dares,” Susan said. “I’m still expecting Rocky and McKenzie to
jump out at any second.”

“Did
McKenzie come up with this? Was this McKenzie’s idea?”

Susan
tightened her grip on Abbie’s shoulder. “Calm down. Okay? I thought McKenzie
was your friend. Why would she try to hurt you?”

Abbie
grabbed her phone and dialed McKenzie again, but the call went straight to
voicemail. “Where is she?”

Susan
shrugged. “You know everything I know.”

“No.”
Abbie gritted her teeth. “You know where we’re headed. You know who this
surprise guest is. Who is it, Susan? Tell me.”

“I
can’t. I’m sworn to secrecy.”

“What’s
the connection?” Abbie took a step toward her. She clenched her fists. “If it’s
not Buffy, is it someone in my family? Is it Clinton Reed?”

“I
can’t tell you.”

Abbie
looked at the twins. “Who put those Gareth Halloween masks in there? Who’s
trying to scare me?”

Lindsey
took a step back. Lindsay slipped behind her. Susan stepped in front of the
twins and held up her hands.
“Abbie, please!”

“Who
is the surprise guest, Susan? Tell me.”

“I
can’t tell you.”

“Tell
me.”

“I’m
sworn to secrecy.”

“This
isn’t a game anymore, Susan. Who is the surprise guest? Who’s sending me the
text message dares?”

Susan’s
eyes widened and she sighed. “Okay. Okay. I’ll tell you.”

Chapter 22

I
t’s your therapist.” Susan blurted it out. “Some
weird guy named Dr. Everett Wachowski and he talks like he’s Bob Saget on
Full House
.”

Abbie
didn’t know what to say. “What?”

“Your
therapist is the surprise guest.” Susan looked away. “McKenzie contacted him and
they organized the whole party. He said he’s more friend than therapist. He’s
texting you from the Florida Aquarium and we had a few more dares planned along
the way.”

Abbie
ran her hands through her hair and looked away, trying to wrap her head around
this. “Who invites someone’s therapist to be the surprise guest at their
birthday party?”

“I’m
sorry.” Susan waved her hands as she apologized. She followed Abbie, who was
now pacing in tight circles on the sidewalk. “I didn’t even know you were
seeing a therapist until this week.”

“My
therapist? Why? Is that even ethical? Is it even legal?” Abbie continued
pacing. Susan continued to follow her.

“Look,
McKenzie arranged everything and said it would be a good idea.
Said it would help pull you out of your shell.”

“My therapist?”
Abbie stopped pacing;
Susan nearly bumped into her. Abbie turned around. She still couldn’t believe
what Susan was saying.

“He’s
waiting at the Florida Aquarium. McKenzie’s boyfriend, that Rocky guy…” Susan ran
her hands through her short hair as she explained. “He recruited your therapist
into that vitamin business and they’re having some kind of recruitment meeting
at the Aquarium. That’s where I was leading you.”

Abbie
stared at her, unblinking.
“My therapist?”

No
one answered her. After a moment of silence, Abbie grabbed her phone and pulled
up the last dare. She pressed the sender’s phone number. The phone dialed. It
rang.
Rang again.
Finally, a recorded voice came over
the speaker.

“You’ve
reached the private cell phone for Dr. Everett Wachowski. If this is an
emergency, please hang-up and dial—”

Abbie
ended the call. She looked back at Susan.
“My therapist?
Really?
My surprise guest is my therapist?”

“Maybe
he’s making you face your fears,” Dharma offered. “You said that little kid’s
Halloween masks frighten you.”

“Not
little kid’s Halloween masks,” Abbie sad slowly, one word at a time. She was
making a point. “Gareth the Goodhearted Ghoul masks
unnerve
me.”

“Well,
why?” Dharma gave an impatient shrug. “Why are you seeing a therapist anyway? I
mean, it’s no big deal. Everyone’s got issues nowadays. What’s your childhood
trauma?”

“I
have anxiety issues.” Tension rose in Abbie’s voice as she became more
defensive. She barely knew these people and she was talking to them about her
therapy sessions. This wasn’t right.

“Do
you have an irrational fear of spiders?”
Dharma probed,
seemingly unaware of Abbie’s discomfort with the subject.
“Cause this
looks like a good place to face it.”

“I
do not have an irrational fear of spiders.” Abbie’s face turned red. Her
nostrils flared. “I do
not
have an
irrational fear of Halloween masks or cartoons. What I have is anxiety issues
from watching my big sister being murdered sixteen years ago.”

Dharma
gasped.

“I
had no idea.” Susan turned away from the group,
then
swung
back around. She placed a hand on Abbie’s back. “Wha—I mean, what happened?”

“A
man broke into our house when we were kids. He had a Gareth the Ghoul tattoo on
his right arm.” She took a deep breath, calming her trembling legs. “He killed
my sister.”

Susan
pulled her arm away and brought it to her mouth.
 
“You never told me.”

“Like
I said, maybe your therapist is forcing the issue,” Dharma said. “Maybe this
whole thing is some kind of therapy.”

“Who
does that?” Abbie screamed. “Who the hell does that?”

Abbie’s
cell phones chirped with a new incoming text message. The twins grabbed their
phones. Susan and Dharma looked at each other. Their phones were silent.

“It’s
the fifteenth dare,” Abbie said. “Is Dr. Wachowski sending these?”

Susan
shook her head. “Yes, but McKenzie, Lindsey and Lindsay, Mr. Sherman and that
cleaning lady with the really long name—we all came up with the actual dares.”

“All
except
this last one,” Lindsey said. “Walking into an
abandoned cigar factory to find a bunch of Halloween masks is all on your
shrink.”

Lindsay
shook her head. “Well, we don’t know that it’s your shrink. Maybe it was
McKenzie’s idea.
Or Rocky’s.”

“But
the shrink is sending the text messages.” Lindsey frowned at her sister and put
her hands on her hips.

Lindsay
mirrored Lindsey’s stance. “We don’t know that. Maybe McKenzie is sending them.
Maybe she and Rocky are laughing at us.”

“Stop
it!” Abbie snapped at the twins. They looked back at her. Abbie sighed and read
the new dare out loud.
 

 
Abbie lowered her phone. She looked at Susan.

“No.
You’re absolutely not doing that.” Susan shook her head. “This is going too
far.”

“I
agree. It’s an abandoned building. There could be homeless people hiding in
there,” Lindsey said.

“Or
ax murderers.” Lindsay shuddered and looked away.

Abbie
shook her head, trying to wrap her head around it. “Why would he want me to do
this?”

“You’re
not,” Susan turned away for a moment,
then
looked back
at Abbie. “Is your doctor the guy in the picture? Is he the one who’s been
following you?”

“No,
of course not.” Abbie hesitated, wondering. She got her phone out and flipped
through the photos. She looked at the man in the tan trench coat and brown hat.
“I don’t think so. It’s not him.”

Susan
took the phone from Abbie’s hands. She looked at the photo. “Hypothetically
speaking, if it was him, why would he be following you?”

“It
doesn’t matter. You’re right. The game’s over.” Abbie took back her phone. She
found some well of strength and sent a text message back to the caller.

She
waited for a return message, but none came. Abbie looked at Susan. “Come on,
let’s go.”

They
headed west up the sidewalk.

“This
was all supposed to be fun, until it got weird,” Susan said. “In the next dare,
we were going to make you Jersey Turnpike a guy at the bar.”

Dharma
laughed. “That’s when you pour alcohol on the floor mat and funnel it down a
guy’s throat? That’s messed up.”

“This
whole night has been messed up,” Abbie said. She walked a couple steps ahead of
the others. “I really appreciate everything everyone has done, but I just want
to go home. Maybe I’ll take a bus back to Pembroke Pines this weekend and see
Clinton Reed.”

Lindsey
caught up with her. “Who can blame you?”

Lindsay
came up on Abbie’s other side. “Yeah, we’re outta here too.”

As
the girls walked across the street, they were surprised by Abbie’s cell phone. It
was the first time it rang all night. Abbie looked at the screen then stopped.
“It’s McKenzie.”

She
answered the call. McKenzie’s frantic voice came through the line.

“Abbie?
Is that you?”

“McKenzie?”
Abbie raised her voice and spoke faster than normal. “I’m so mad at you right
now! I know you’ve been talking to my therapist which has to violate like a
thousand HIPAA laws.”

McKenzie
cut her off. Her voice sounded panicked over the phone. “Listen to me, Abbie. I
don’t know where I am.”

Abbie
rolled her eyes. “You can stop right there. We’re headed home. It’s been fun
and all but—”

“Listen
to me, damn it. I need your help.” McKenzie spoke through sobs. “I need your
help, Abbie. Please!”