Vampire (16 page)

“Darcy?”

She jumped as a hand touched her arm, and she found herself looking back at her own face in Elliott's dark glasses. The miniature Darcy looked pale and frightened, and the real one stepped back.

“What do you want, Elliott?” She stared at his glasses and resisted an urge to run upstairs and lock the door.

Elliott's head bowed slightly. A shadow seemed to pass beneath the lenses. “You always stare at me. Like you think I can't see you.”

“I …” Darcy's hand crept to the pocket of her jeans, where she'd thrust the note. “I don't mean to stare.”

Lifting one hand, Elliott slowly drew off his glasses, his pale gray eyes blinking calmly as she took another step back. “Here. I'll take them off.”

“No—I mean, you don't have to—”

“It makes some people nervous,” he said softly. “When they look in my eyes. It makes some people scared.”

To Darcy's relief the phone rang, and she hurried behind the counter to answer it. “Dungeon of Horrors—may I help you?” Then putting one hand across the mouthpiece, she nodded at Elliott. “Don't you think you should be watching those people going through?”

Elliott hesitated, as though her words were sinking in, then he slipped his glasses back on and slunk out of sight through the beaded curtain. Letting out a deep breath, Darcy went back to her phone call. She was surprised at the deep imprint in her hand when she hung up the receiver. She hadn't realized how tightly she'd been holding it—as if it were her only link with the outside world.

People began filing out, clustering around the counter for souvenirs. Darcy threw herself into hostessing, not wanting to think about the note anymore, but the message had burned itself into her brain. “Yes, I have lots more postcards of the Dracula exhibit.…”
You are my chosen one
. “Yes, sir, the guillotine is real—and sharp.…”
Jake was in my room last night … bending over me … watching me sleep
.… “I'm not sure about the Space Cannibal—I don't think I've ever heard of that movie.”

Darcy's head came up slowly and the room receded around her in a blur. All the events of the past few days began spinning furiously through her mind—doubts … fears … all forming a terrible pattern … a dark, frightening revelation.…

“Miss? Miss, are you all right?”

Darcy came back in slow motion. “Yes … yes, I'm fine.…”

You are my chosen one
.

Chosen for what? Death at the hands of a deranged killer? The Vampire's next victim? Then … does he know me?

Do I know him?

She was never so glad to see the place clear out. Turning the Closed sign out, she started toward the office when she heard someone tap on the door. Impatiently she inched it open, speaking near the crack. “Sorry, we open again at ten tomorrow.”

“Come on, it's just us.” A voice laughed, and Darcy threw the door open, flinging herself first into Brandon's arms and then Kyle's, while the boys regarded her in dismay.

“Oh, God, I'm so glad to see you!” She pulled them inside and latched the door behind them. “I really need to talk to you.”

“What's up?” Brandon's smile faded, and he caught Darcy's shoulders in a steadying grip as Kyle looked on worriedly. “Hey … easy … was there trouble here or something? Where's Elliott?”

“No. I don't know.” She shook her head in frustration. “I mean, no, there wasn't trouble here, but something happened, and I don't know where Elliott is, I guess he left—”

“Whoa—” Brandon was pushing her gently down into a chair. “Are you hurt or something?”

“I'll call Jake,” Kyle began, but Darcy put a restraining hand on his arm.

“No.” Again she shook her head, wringing her hands together. “There's just so much I have to tell you.”

“It's okay, we've got time.” Brandon sat in the chair facing her and put one hand on her knee. “Darcy, come on now, what
is
it?”

“I can't believe I'm even saying this”—she fought back tears—“and I don't
want
to say it—I don't even want to
think
it—” She looked at him helplessly, one tear slipping down her cheek. Kyle hovered at Brandon's shoulder, looking distressed. Brandon's face softened, and his hand caressed Darcy's cheek.

“You can tell us,” he encouraged.

“No, I can't. You'll think I'm horrible.”

“You can,” he coaxed again and brought his face close to hers, his expression worried and sad. “Darcy, what's going on?”

“Oh, Brandon,” she whispered. “It's … about Jake.”

“Jake?” Brandon and Kyle exchanged glances. “What about Jake?”

“I'm afraid he's a … I mean … do you think he could be a murderer?”

The word came out at last, and she stared down at her hands, feeling heavy and sick. The sudden quiet was like the sea rushing through her head. In the doorway the red beads rustled softly as if someone were standing behind them, listening.

“Jake?” After an endless moment Brandon's voice sounded shocked. He cleared his throat and tried again. “Jake? A murderer? What are you
talking
about—”

“The Vampire,” Darcy said miserably. She looked at Kyle for support, but he seemed as stunned as Brandon. “All those girls with their throats cut—I saw the bloody towel—I saw the lipstick—and he followed me at the market—”

Brandon was looking more dazed by the minute. “Towel … lipstick.”

“And he acted so nervous at the market—you can't tell me you didn't notice that—he kept looking around, like he wanted to leave. You remember, he really didn't even want to go with us—and then that girl was dead—”

“What happened?” Brandon was staring at her like she was crazy. “Did something happen today to set you off on this? Where's Jake now? Is he here?”

“I don't know where he is, that's just the point! Jake's so weird and Elliott's so creepy and—” She was fumbling in her pocket and now she waved the note under his nose. “Here. Read this.”

Brandon took the note carefully, as if Darcy's odd behavior might be contagious. Another look passed between him and Kyle. “What is it?”

“Brandon—please—just read it, okay?” She watched his face as he mouthed each word silently to himself. “Doesn't it all make sense? He told me not to go in his closet—he caught me in there, and he told me not to do it again—”

“God, Darcy, maybe the guy just wants his privacy. Why were you snooping in his closet anyway?”

“That night we were looking for towels—and it was
your
idea to snoop, not mine!”

“I never said snoop, I only said to—”

“That's when I found the lipstick … it fell out of some clothes or something.”

“And
that
makes him a murderer?” For the first time Brandon sounded like he was trying not to laugh. Kyle turned away so she couldn't see his face. “Maybe he just had a date, and she asked him to hold it for her!”

“I found a towel in there, too. Full of blood-stains. And someone sneaked in with him one night. Jake was bleeding, and the next day his hand was all bandaged. And whoever was talking in his room sounded really scared.”

“And where were you while all this was going on?”

“I … listened from the living room.” She looked at the floor, feeling two pairs of eyes settle on her. “But I can show you the towel.” She brightened. “It's right upstairs!”

Brandon looked reluctant. Darcy jumped up and grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the stairs. Kyle shrugged and started after them.

“Come on, Darcy,” Brandon protested, “do you really think we should be doing this?”

“I know you don't believe me, so I'll
prove
it to you.”

As the boys stood uneasily in Jake's bedroom doorway, Darcy rummaged through the junk in the closet.

“What if he comes back?” Brandon tried to reason with her. “Jake's always been real good to us, Darcy, we don't want to—”

“It's gone,” Darcy mumbled.

“What? Are you sure?”

“It was right here on the floor, and now it's not. Why would he move just that towel if he didn't have something to hide?”

“Look a little more. Maybe you'll find the knife he used on all his victims.”

“Scalpel,” Kyle corrected him. “They're pretty sure it was a scalpel.”

“That's it!” Brandon said excitedly, turning to Kyle. “All this time we wondered where Jake was—he's been going to medical school to be a doctor!”

Kyle ducked his head, trying not to laugh, and Darcy glared at them.

“Don't make fun of me. Don't you understand what might be happening here?”

“I understand that you're freaking out.” Brandon held out his arms and motioned her over. “Come here. Has it ever occurred to you that you're reacting just the way Liz wanted you to?”

“Liz?” Darcy looked surprised. “What does Liz have to do with this?”

“Probably everything. I told you when Liz hates someone, she means business. She probably planted that note just to give you a nervous breakdown. I wouldn't want to give her the satisfaction of telling her it worked.”

Darcy stood stiffly, eyes narrowed. “You think—Liz—”

“She worked here, I know she had a key. She could have gotten in anytime she wanted.” He regarded her for several seconds, then gave an exaggerated shudder. “Boy, you really had it all figured out there for a minute, didn't you? Poor old Jake—”

“He talks to all those monsters down there,” Darcy said stubbornly. “I know he thinks they're real—
especially
Dracula. Doesn't that suggest anything to you guys?” She looked pleading, and Kyle finally nodded.

“Well, yeah, I know it
seems
kind of funny, but—”

“Look,” said Brandon, “all I know is Jake's a real private person, and I like him a lot. If he wants to talk to mannequins, that doesn't make him a murderer.”

Brandon abruptly turned and went back downstairs, Darcy and Kyle trailing behind. At the lobby door she threw out her last suspicion.

“And there's Elliott,” she said adamantly. “I think maybe he's part of it, too.”

Brandon turned and looked down at her, his face screwing up in reproach. “Oh, no, not Elliott-in-the-crowd again.” He started to reach for her, but Darcy stepped away.

“I'm sorry I even said anything. I thought you'd at least listen.”

“I did listen. And I have to give you credit,” he said admiringly. “I mean, you figured this whole thing out all by yourself—”

“Forget it. Just forget it.”

“Look, Darcy—” Kyle began.

“I thought you were my friends.”

“We are,” Brandon said, but Darcy took another step back.

“Just leave, okay? I don't need this right now—”

“Oh, come on, Darcy, you're getting all upset over nothing! You're doing just what Liz
wants
you to do!” Brandon spun around, throwing up his hands in frustration. “Living with a vampire under your own roof.…”

“Well”—Kyle glanced away, as if reluctant to say what he was going to say—“I mean … I can kind of
see
why you'd jump to conclusions.” Brandon shot him a patronizing look, and Kyle stammered, “Well … like those bats … Jake didn't even seem surprised about them. And he
was
jumpy at the market. I noticed it, too.”

“And has it ever occurred to either of you that those bats could have been a warning of some kind? A clue to the Vampire's identity? And there's a door on the fire escape that I'm pretty sure opens into Jake's closet.”

There was silence as the three of them looked at one another. Brandon scraped his foot along the floor, almost belligerently.

“So what about Elliott, huh? You're always seeing Elliott everywhere you go—where does
he
fit into all this?”

“Come on, Brandon, let's just drop it,” Kyle began, but Brandon brushed him off.

“No, man, I'm really interested. I want to know who she suspects and why. I want to know how she's solved this whole weird mystery.”

Darcy's tone was defensive. “Well, how should I know? Maybe
he's
the one who picks out the victims and—”

“They're never together,” Brandon cut in. “Have you ever seen Jake and Elliott hanging out together?”

“Yes—the night you and Liz had that fight, they
both
showed up at the same—”

“Oh, come on, Darcy, that's only 'cause I called Jake and needed someone to drive my car!”

Brandon's face went pensive, then unexpectedly he chuckled. “Elliott an accomplice. That's really good. This is the guy who believed that the reason he didn't die in his accident was because he was destined to be some sort of savior.”

Even Kyle's mouth twitched at that.

“Saint Elliott,” Brandon said solemnly, and both of them snickered. Darcy shot them an exasperated look, and their faces went sober again.

“Children,” Darcy grumbled. “Both of you. You're acting like little boys—”

“Not like you, of course”—Brandon was trying to keep a straight face—“who's acting completely sane and rational about all this.”

“Goodbye.” Darcy gave him a shove. “Just please leave.”

“Well, don't you want to have dinner with us?” Brandon looked hurt.

“No, I don't. Get out of here.”

Brandon started to say something, took a hard look at her face, then seemed to think better of it. As they went out the door, Kyle hesitated, his face sheepish.

“Darcy, I—”

“Don't
you
believe me, Kyle?” She looked earnestly into his face, saw surprise and embarrassment there.

“I believe … that you really believe what you think.”