April Fools (17 page)

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Authors: Richie Tankersley Cusick

Tags: #Juvenile Fiction, #Horror & Ghost Stories, #Mysteries & Detective Stories, #Social Issues, #Adolescence, #Friendship, #Horror fiction, #Traffic accidents

BOOK: April Fools
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"Sure." Noel smiled. "A secret rendezvous right behind my back?"

Belinda smoothed the stubborn blonde hair off his forehead. "Hardly. I just want to see Hildy, that's all."

"But I thought --"

"I know, I know, but really, I can't stand for things to be like this. We've been friends too long, and we need to get it straightened-out." Her voice trembled; she brought it under control. "It really hurts me."

"Okay," Noel said softly. He looked down at her, at her worried face, and then he pulled her against his chest. "I wish nothing could ever hurt you, Belinda. I wish that more than anything."

She wanted to stay that way forever -- pressed close to him, his face buried in her hair. When they finally broke apart, Noel lifted her chin and smiled into her eyes.

"I guess I owe Hildy a lot. After all, she picked you out for me."

Belinda managed a laugh. "She said one day Pd thank her for it."

"No, Fm the one who should thank her for it."

Noel went outside while Belinda changed, and when she came into the kitchen a few minutes later her mother was hurrying out the back door with a cheery wave.

"See you later, honey -- I'm leaving you in good hands."

" 'Bye, Mom." Belinda flushed, catching Noel's amused glance. "Noel's going to take me to Hil-dy's --"

"I'm glad, honey!" She yelled from the car as she backed it down the drive and onto the street. "Don't worry -- I'm sure it'll all work out!"

"I hope so." Belinda locked the door and followed Noel to the car, flashing him a grateful smile. "I really appreciate this -- I know you're in a hurry."

"Not especially. It's not something I'm looking forward to." Noel slid in beside her and started the engine. "Okay, how do I get to Hildy's?"

"It's not far -- just six blocks over. You can just drop me off."

"And what if she's not there? I'd better wait and make sure."

"Don't be silly, I can walk back."

"Don't you be silly, it's almost dark and -- now what's this?"

Belinda turned to see a car blocking them in the drive. A man was heading for the door so she got out to intercept him.

"Oh, hi, didn't see you there." The man put a

finger to his cap and squinted down at the manila envelope in his hand. "Something for Miss . . . Swanson."

"I'll take it," Belinda said.

"Fine with me."

^Wait -- Where's this from?"

"You got me, lady. Some guy handed it to me -- gave me ten bucks to deUver it."

"Some guy?"

"Yeah. I would've had it here a lot sooner, but I couldn't find the street."

The man took off, and Noel came around to her side of the car, looking puzzled.

"That's kind of weird, isn't it? We should have asked what the other guy looked like."

Belinda spun around, but the stranger's car was just rounding the comer. "Noel..." She was staring at the envelope apprehensively, and he studied the handwriting on the front.

"Let me see that."

"I don't like this. It doesn't seem right --"

"Don't open it." He pried her fingers gently from the packet and frowned down at the thing in his hand. "Is it for your mom?"

"It says Ms. Swanson -- oh, Noel, I'm afraid to open this --"

"Here." He slid his finger beneath the flap of the envelope . . . looked cautiously inside. His frown deepened.

"Noel. . . what is it . . . what's wrong?"

She saw him turn the envelope upside down and give it an impatient shake into the palm of his hand.

t8S

She saw the envelope flutter to the pavement . . . and the long, coiled, silvery thing dangling from Noel's fingers. . . .

"What the hell -- ?" As Noel looked at her in dismay, Belinda choked back a scream. "It looks Uke -- "

"Hair," Belinda whispered. "Oh, God . . . it's one of Hildy's braids."

Chapter 18

**We have to do something! We have to call the police!"

"And tell them what? You don^t even knov^ if it's hers." Noel's voice struggled for calm, but he looked shaken.

"Of course it's hers. No one else in the world has hair like that. Oh, God -- what are we going to do? We have to find her right away!"

But when they got to Hildy's house, the place was dark and no one answered the bell. A quick drive to Frank's wasn't any more successful -- trying her best to appear normal, Belinda was informed by Frank's father that neither Frank nor Hildy had been there since early that morning. Back in the car again, Belinda collapsed in tears.

"You don't know that's Hildy's hair." Noel's face was set and pensive. "You don't know that anything's happened to her. She could be anywhere . . . doing anything."

"She was too upset to go anywhere! The only place she would have gone was to Frank's."

"Well, they're probably just off somewhere together."

"You don't really believe that, do you? Don't you see what's happening -- I knew someone was listening at the door last night! He heard everything we said --"

"Belinda, Adam was home when I left just now. He couldn't have --"

"Then what's happening, Noel? It's something really terrible, I can feel it --"

"Okay . . . okay . . . calm down." Noel held up his hands, started the car. "We'll go back to my place, and you can stay with Cobbs."

"I don't want to go to your house! I want to find Hildy!"

"You can use the phone there and call around town, call your friends, the places she might hang out. I'm telling you, she and Frank probably just went somewhere -- " Noel's face wore a helpless look, and Belinda shook her head fiercely.

"But you just said Adam's there."

"Then you'll see for yourself he can't be with Hildy." Noel glanced over, his voice pleading. "Look, Belinda ... if you can't find Hildy by the time I get back, then we'll call the police, okay?"

She hesitated . . . finally nodded. Noel looked so strained ... he had so much on his mind, and he was trying so hard to reassure her. Guiltily she thought of Hildy, so angry with her at the pool ... she thought of Hildy's threat -- 'Td like to hurt yoUy Belinda . . . really hurt you."

"Noel," Belinda said slowly, "do you think Hildy

could be playing a trick on me?" And she told him about Hildy's outburst that afternoon. When she finished the story, Noel's lips were pressed into an angry line.

"I'm sorry, Belinda," he said tightly. "I'm sorry you're so scared about Hildy, but I'd sure like to know what kind of friend would talk that way, much less think it was funny."

They didn't speak again all the way to the house. Belinda's heart felt heavy as she followed Noel to the kitchen, as she sat down on the floor and gave Sasha a long, hard hug. Cobbs was nowhere to be seen, and as Behnda went over to the phone, she saw a notepad propped on the counter.

SITUATION CRITICAL. GONE TO HOSPITAL.

Her hand faltered as she picked it up and gave it to Noel. "It's your stepfather. You'd better go."

He stared at the message for a moment, his face weary. "It's really true then. I guess I never really thought. . ."He turned away and Belinda came up behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry. ..."

"I didn't know him that well," Noel said softly. "Probably no better than Adam did. He's just someone . . . you know . . . my mom lived with. Still ... he was a really generous guy ... I guess he made her happy."

Belinda wondered how it would feel to be dying, to know that there was really no one in the world who cared about you. To have a son and a stepson

who were practically strangers ... a wife who was only interested in the money. It made her sad, thinking of his aloneness . . . and, as if reading her mind, Noel said, "At least he has Cobbs."

"Yes." Belinda smiled. "Good old Cobbs. I imagine he's come to the rescue on more than one occasion --" The phone rang shrilly, and she jumped. Noel answered it cautiously.

"HeUo?"

Belinda watched him for several minutes. She could hear the abruptness of someone on the other end, and after nodding, Noel mumbled, "Okay, I'll be there," and slowly replaced the receiver. "Adam's at the hospital," he said. "He thinks I'd better come."

Belinda put a hand to his cheek, not knowing what to say, and he nodded at the phone. "You'd better keep calling Hildy," he reminded her gently. "Adam will be with me -- you'll be safe here."

She swallowed hard. Nodded.

"I'll try to see if I can find out anything ... if Adam --" Noel left the thought unfinished. 'Will you be okay?"

Heart sinking, she forced a smile. "Of course I will.'^

"Keep everything locked. Don't open the door to anyone. Not anyone."

She nodded mechanically, forcing down the lump in her throat. "I'll be fine. I hope . . . you're okay."

"Thanks." He pulled her close and his hps met hers. Belinda felt frightened as he pulled away. "See you later. I'll call as soon as I can."

"Please hurry --" Belinda felt ashamed as she said it, ashamed that she could even consider needing his attention as his stepfather lay dying. "And, Noel ... be careful."

"I will."

She heard the front door close as she picked up the phone and dialed Hildy's number. There was no answer, so she counted to ten and dialed again. Still no answer. Where are you, Hildy? Trying to scare me . . . get back at me? Or trapped somewhere, praying for me to find you. For one wild minute she actually considered going out to look for her, but she stopped herself at the door. No, she'd promised Noel she'd stay in and keep the doors locked. Ohy Hildy, are you all right?

It was such a sick thing to do . . . something Frank would do and find hysterically funny. She thought of his jacket, floating lifelessly in the dark depths of the pool. She saw Hildy's accusing eyes . . . heard the tone of her voice . . . "not friends anymore. ..."

She picked up the phone and dialed again. The phone rang and rang. She paced nervously around the kitchen, Sasha watching her with good-natured interest. Again Belinda dialed the phone. Again there was nothing. Sasha's tail thumped consohngly against the floor.

And then Sasha growled.

Belinda froze, her eyes following Sasha's stare into the hall. The dog's body was tensed, the warning bubbling up from deep in her chest.

**What is it, girl? Good Sasha -- show me."

The dog rose slowly, each muscle in turn. There was a long stripe of raised fur down her back, and Belinda was suddenly afraid to follow her. Sasha lowered her head and crept up the stairs, then stopped, tail quivering. Belinda's mind reeled, trying to remember which rooms lay in that direction -- bedrooms . . . bathrooms . . . Mr. Thome's study. . . .

Sasha sank slowly down onto her stomach, whining softly.

Belinda forced herself to go down the hall.

The thick carpet muffled her footsteps and she had an eerie sensation of floating. As she came up behind Sasha, the dog shifted nervously and looked at the study door. It was halfway open and the room lay dark and silent beyond.

Heart hammering, Belinda put a cautious hand to the door. It squeaked back, ten times louder in the quiet. Sasha pulled to her feet, head down, and Belinda slid her hand around the wall, searching for a light switch. She didn't even realize she'd been holding her breath until the light flicked on and she let out a sigh.

The room was empty; the desk still littered with papers. Belinda ran one hand along the pohshed oak, a frown creasing her brow. When had she been in here last -- yesterday? The day before? With everything that had happened, it was hard to remember details of the last few weeks -- only that they ran together in confused muddles, full of fear. But yes, now she remembered. It had been yesterday, and Adam had been in here.

She circled the desk slowly, still hearing his awful laugh. Her eyes dropped . . . saw the top middle drawer . . . the bundle of papers squeezing out, as if someone had thrust them away in a great hurry.

He put the papers in a drawer and hid the key in a book.

Turning around, she stared helplessly at the paneled walls, the thick bindings lining the shelves. She couldn't recall the exact spot . . . somewhere around here . . . and as she pulled out volume after cumbersome volume, an insistence grew inside her, pressing her on -- here . . . somewhere . . . Fve got to find it.

She tugged hard on a book and heard the key hit the floor at her feet.

Sasha glanced nervously at the empty doorway and whined.

Sliding the key into the lock, Behnda tugged at the drawer.

It held fast.

She tugged at it again, and it sprang open, papers spilling out into her hand. She could tell at first glance that they were official -- the red stamped "draft" across the top of several -- but the pages were out of order. As she riffled through them, bits and pieces of words and phrases leaped out at her, burning into her brain -- things that caused her hands to start shaking.

. . . make, publish, and declare this my Last Will and Testament, and revoke all prior Wills and Codicils that I have made. . . .

If my spouse does not survive me . . . then I

give and bequeath all of the property described , . . to my child and stepchild who survive me in substantially equal shares . .. when each such child shall attain the age of eighteen (18) years. . . .

And then she found the one sheet that confirmed it all.

Last Will and Testament of Frederick Adam Thome.

"Adam," Belinda murmured.

And suddenly it was all too clear ... so shockingly and horribly clear . . . the accident . . . and Mr. Thome dying . . . and she and Noel being mercilessly . . . relentlessly run off the road. . . .

It was yoUy Adam. I was right all along.

And Cobbs relating that story in the kitchen. ". : . until the very end she kept trying to tell them something . . . involved Adam and the accident . . . he said . . . he would do something desperate. ..."

Mrs. Thome had mysteriously disappeared.

Mr. Thome would not hve through the night.

So now that left Noel..

Noel, who would come into half the inheritance.

Noel, who stood in the way of what Adam wanted.

Noel. Who had been lured away by a phone call from Adam.

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