Second Nature (20 page)

“No. We should fight.”
Rita nodded, grabbing a vintage golf club from the wall.

“Okay. Tom has a master
key. We lock every room as we leave it. Maybe we can trap the killer in a room
or an area and then call the police.” She opened the desk and paused. “Oh
shit.” She lifted Rachel’s very obvious gold-flecked case with the iPhone not
in it. “Do you think—?”

“Tom is the worst person
we know, but I don't think he would kill someone.” I shook my head.

Sage dropped the case
onto the desk and pointed at the bloodstain on the corner of it. “Holy hell.”

“I could be wrong.” I
grabbed the large master key from the drawer and Sage’s hand. “Let’s just keep
moving.” I hurried to the other two doors, slipping the key in and locking
them.

Then I rushed the door on
the left side of the room and opened it, poking my head in cautiously. It was
Sage’s mom’s office.
More of a light and airy sort of room.
No one was in here, but I checked the closet just to be sure. I sent a text to
the group chat.

Testing
.

We all stood, listening
for anything.

The silence was an
obvious answer. Rachel’s phone wasn't there. We all walked in, and I locked the
door with the master key. “The study is sealed.” Like my house, each room could
be sealed from the inside with the master key. It prevented anyone going into
your office when you ran a company and wanted secrecy and discretion. Trust no
one was the mantra of the rich.

 
We locked up her mom’s office and crept
into the butler’s pantry. I locked the two doors, the one to outside and the
one to the office, as Rita sent a text.

Testing, testing.

Lindsey messaged back:
What are you doing?

I messaged her back:
Ignore everything you see from us unless
it’s to call 9-1-1. We’re at Sage’s.

Okay.
She sent a response.

We crept into the
butler’s kitchen and locked up the pantry. Sage’s cook gave us a look. “Ignore
us and stay in this room. Don't let anyone in, no matter what.” Sage gave the
order as she sent a message:
Hello?

The eerie silence broke.
A phone started going off to the right of us. We gripped each other as we
walked to the kitchen through the archway. The sound was coming from the buffet
in the corner. Sage dragged us to it, lifting her fingers slowly and pulling
back the drawer. A phone with the words ANSWER ME on the back sat ringing.
“That's
like
the phones I found in Ashton’s room.”

She lifted it up and
clicked the side of the phone, turning off the noise of the alarm.

“Was it set for now?”
Rita looked even more scared.

“It’s password protected.
The alarm’s going to continue going off. That was snooze.” She walked to the
freezer and put the phone in. “It’s full battery. We won’t ever be free of this
noise until it’s dead.” She opened the large freezer and threw it in.

We walked out into the
main hall and great room. Every shadow cast and large piece of furniture might
as well have been a killer. My hairs were each standing on end and my breath
shot in and out from the stress.

Creeping along, we
checked every corner, nook, and cranny.

The problem with massive
houses was that the main floor was seven thousand square feet. After half an
hour and a bunch of heart attacks over nothing, we headed upstairs.

I went first, somehow
roped into that by the other two taking the stairs one at a time. Even with my
sprained ankle I went faster. I turned and left and headed for Sage’s mom’s
room.

“Tom’s gone, right?” I asked
softly as we got to the large double doors.

“Yeah. He’s in Denver for
three more days.”

Putting my hands on the
door handles, I took a deep breath before opening them slowly and letting go
with a slight shove to both, revealing the room.

Inside we stayed
together, exactly as we had done on the main floor.

In each spot we texted
and listened but nothing happened.

We all sat on the bed and
listened for the phone but there was nothing, just us.

“Emily’s room, then yours
and Ash’s?”

Sage nodded. “Yeah.”

“Is anyone here?” Rita
asked, gripping her golf club.

“No. My mom and Em are
shopping today, thank God.”

We got up and walked from
the room, locking it with the master key.

The suspense had come and
gone and come and gone, so by the time we were in Sage’s room, I was fairly
calm again.

Until
the music started.

I gave her a look. “Did
you text?”

Sage shook her head at
the same moment as Rita.

The song wasn't one that
any of us, including Rachel, would have used for a ringtone. It was soft and
playful like an old lady would listen to as she reminisced about her childhood.

Rita plugged her ears and
shook her head, starting to freak out. “This is when the ghost comes and kills
everyone. She’s going to come from the mirror or some shit like that. And I
look like I could be black. I’m technically like a quarter. And I’m the only
one who knows that Lucinda bitch,” her voice cracked.

Sage wrinkled her brow.
“What?”

I couldn't fight the
laugh, even if it was nervous. “Black people always die first in horror
movies.”

Rita started to giggle
anxiously too. “You know my ass is getting killed first. I have the mocha skin
tone.”

I laughed harder as the
creepy song got louder.

But it wasn't louder.

It was just joined by
another phone playing the same song, but closer.

We stood, all of us
obviously afraid to move, and listened as the song started to play in stereo
round us.

I looked up at the
ceiling. “It’s coming from upstairs.”

“Oh friggin’ hell.” Sage
got up and walked down the hallway past Ashton’s room. “The attic?”

“Yup.”

I texted the group:
9-1-1
standby
. We
might need it.

All of our phones buzzed,
making us all jump, even me who sent the text.

With heavy breathing and
trembling fingers, Sage opened the door to the attic without the master key. It
was unlocked.

She gave me a look. I
glanced at Rita. None of us looked ready, but we stepped inside and closed the
door, locking us in with whoever else was in the house.

We crept up the stairs.
Again, I ended up leading the way. I peered around the wall at the top of the
stairs, my eyes widening as my jaw trembled. I shook my head in twitches,
waving them back.

A figure stood in the
middle of the room with a black hoodie. The creepy song was so loud I could
hardly hear my own fearful heartbeat.

I watched and waited but the
figure didn't move. He stood perfectly still in the middle of the room, wearing
jeans and his dark-gray hood up. Beyond him was something else.

I recognized it right
away. It was a bloody hand, bound and pulled in the direction of the ropes
around its wrist.

My breath hitched in my
throat as I looked back at the girls. “Jake is here with the killer.” I fought
the urge to run up there, tackling the killer. There had to be more to this.
Why turn on music and alert us to this
place?

Sage pushed past me, not
making noise but shoving her way to the top to see. A small squeak came from
her lips but the music covered it.

“I don't wanna see. We
need to call the cops.” Rita crossed herself and started praying silently. I
stepped up the stairs, grabbing a small chair from the corner and holding it
out, legs forward as I walked across the wide-open space with the music echoing
off the plastic and insulation walls.

Sage
and Rita were almost up my butt
,
they were so close
.

My brain whispered
things.

Things like Rita was
right, we should have called the police.

Things like Jake wasn't
dead yet, but I was about to get him killed.

It was really
motivational crap in my head.

I ignored it and
continued forward, trying to see everything. What if it was a trap and the
police came and got Jake killed? I trusted no one, not even Sage or Rita. I had
to solve this and save him myself.

There was a rope around
the killer’s waist. It was tied to the ceiling on a thin stick. If the killer
went down the stick broke. I looked for the rest of the puzzle. From the angle
I was at I couldn't see where the rest of the trap was.

The empty attic should
have been filled with surveillance equipment and other things, but it wasn't.
There was one dome camera in the middle of the ceiling, the killer,
rope,
Jake tied to a wall, and us. The phones were placed
around us, resting on the ledges of the wood frame.

They played the song in
almost perfect unison. That wasn't an easy feat.

When I noticed the killer
didn't breath, didn't budge, and didn't turn around, I assumed one thing.

Most likely it was not
the killer in front of us.

Sage stepped like she was
going to tackle him, but I shook my head, still staring around the room.

He had to be here.

He loved the fear.

Jake hung limp but in the
blood and filth I could see he was alive, just barely. His chest rose shakily
and fell with a shudder. His arms were what held him upright. One of his
shoulders looked like it was dislocated from hanging for too long.

I needed to solve this
before the trap was set off.

This was a display case.
We were meant to witness Jake’s death. I knew that. I saw it.

I just needed to see how
it would happen so I could stop it.

“This is like that weird
movie with the dude who makes you do things. That's a camera on the ceiling and
somehow there will be death in all of this if we aren’t careful.
Jake’s or ours.
It’s like a set. Don't move or touch
anything.”

Sage nodded, but Rita
shook her head and stepped back. “I don't wanna go any farther.”

Sage and I crossed the
large attic getting closer to the back of the very still murderer. It was then
that I saw the tiny wires above Jake’s head. They glistened in the light when
you got close enough. It was then that I realized the trap.

If the killer moved at
all, the rope would tug and the thin stick would break, freeing a massive
weight that was sitting precariously above Jake’s head, only held back by the
thin stick.

If the weight was
dropped, then the thin wires, which I was starting to fear went around Jake’s
neck, would eventually pull so hard they might decapitate Jake. They would
strangle him at the very least. His arms and legs were tied to the wall so he
wouldn't be able to free himself.

I placed the chair down
and walked to the killer, looking around me for booby traps that might have
been set waiting.

“Lainey!” Sage whispered
harshly. I barely caught it over the music.

Every nerve in my body
was on fire as I crept up to the man, confirming my suspicion that he was a
dummy. I exhaled hard. “It’s a dummy.”

She was confused, but I
wasn't.

“Do you have a knife?”

She held her hands out.
“Yeah, Lain, my Louis V has totally got its own pocketknife compartment.” She
sounded exasperated.

Rita pulled her keys from
her pocket. “My wine-opener keychain has a label knife.” She passed the
keychain to Sage who opened the handy little knife and shrugged as she passed
it to me.

I looked at the dull edge
and winced. “I don't think this is going to work.” I dragged my thumb along it,
jerking back when it cut me. “Or it will.” I gave them a look and shouted over
the music, “I’M GOING TO CUT THE FISHING LINE FROM JAKE’S NECK. YOU GUYS STAY
THERE.”

They both nodded, their
watery eyes darting from my face to our injured friend’s.

I took the step,
regretting it instantly. The pressure against my wounded ankle told my I had
touched a line I didn’t see.

The dummy next to me
pulled sideways, away from me. The stick broke, freeing the massive dumbbell. I
tripped, catching myself as the fishing line caught my feet, landing me on my
face as the heavy weight started its slow roll forward on the two beams. They
ran parallel, each letting the weight rest on them.

The line moved with the
weight, tightening slightly around Jake’s neck. I rushed forward, crawling on
the floor to where the blood and urine soaked the wood, ripping my tee shirt
off.

The jerking of
me and the line
caused the weight to roll off its tracks. As
it fell I screamed right in Jake’s face, not sure what to do. Before it
tightened too much I stuffed the shirt under the line around his throat.