Halloween Party (8 page)

Justine, still smiling, turned to Murphy. “You might not think so when you see the list of items,” she said teasingly. “But, of course, no one has to participate. In fact, it could be a little dangerous. This treasure hunt is only for those who are
really
brave.”

“Hey, I never said I wouldn't participate,” said Murphy.

“Good,” said Justine, her cat-green eyes sparkling with excitement. She began passing out a photocopied list. “This is a list of the items Uncle Philip and I have hidden around the mansion,” she went on. “There are treasures in every room—on both floors and in the attic and basement. Whichever team finds the most treasures by midnight will win a special prize.”

Everyone grabbed the lists and prepared to rush off—but Justine's voice stopped them. “One more thing,” she added. “Please be careful. After all—anything can happen on Halloween.”

Trisha found the first treasure before anyone had even left the living room. While Justine was still explaining the rules, Trisha carefully removed the food still sitting on the casket and opened it to reveal a bundle of bones wrapped in tattered blue cloth. The hand bones of a mummy.

“I've got a treasure!” she cried. “But, Justine, is this really from a mummy?”

“Supposedly,” said Justine. “We picked it up in Egypt.”

For the next few minutes everyone checked out the ground floor. There were constant shrieks and laughter as one person after another discovered a new treasure—or a trick.

“This is great, isn't it?” said David, laughing, as he and Terry simultaneously walked into the pantry from opposite doors.

“I can't believe all this weird stuff Justine and her uncle have,” Terry said. He showed David the only treasure he'd found so far—a hairy tarantula preserved in a glass paperweight. “I found this in the toilet tank.”

“I found my treasure in a terrarium,” David said, showing Terry a stuffed cobra. “At first I thought it was alive because it was moving around. But then I saw it was attached to an electric motor.”

“I'm not even sure I want to find some of this stuff,” Terry said, scanning his list. “A bottle of blood?”

“Murphy already found that,” David said. “He was
prowling around in the front hall and tripped over a loose floorboard. The bottle was right under it.”

“Catch you later,” Terry said. David was a good guy, he realized. Too bad the other jocks weren't more like him. The thought of the jocks made him think of Alex, which made him think of Niki, and he wondered where she was in this big spooky house. Maybe he'd run into her.

N
iki looked at the list halfheartedly. Even though this was the greatest party she'd ever been to, she wasn't that interested in fun and games.

The party still seemed like a mystery to her. Nothing added up. The treasure hunt, she decided, was the perfect chance to explore the mansion freely.

She replayed in her mind the conversation she had lip-read when Justine was in the phone booth, and had now decided that it didn't have anything to do with the party.

After all, Justine seemed only to care about her guests having a good time. And despite her weird uncle, she was really sweet.

But there was still something intriguing about her, and Niki was determined to find out what it was. She would have felt a little guilty about searching the house, but the treasure hunt gave her the perfect excuse. It wasn't even snooping, not really . . . .

She was working her way through the rooms on the top floor. So far none of them contained anything of interest to her.

She entered a large bedroom at the back of the house and switched on the light. She jumped back, her
heart pounding, as a huge glowing head dropped in front of her. After a second she realized it was just another one of Justine's surprises.

She switched the light off again, and the head was pulled back up to the ceiling on an automatic reel. After a little searching she found a lamp and clicked it on, then smiled in satisfaction.

From the perfume bottles and cosmetics on the antique vanity and the beautiful ruffled pink satin bedspread, she realized she must be in Justine's room.

You can tell a lot about a person by examining her bedroom, Niki thought. For example, take her own bedroom. Her sewing stuff and the fashion cutouts on the bulletin board showed her interest in fashion design. Her collection of stuffed dogs showed that she loved animals and hoped someday to raise them. And her rock posters showed just the sort of music she preferred.

But, she realized, standing in the middle of Justine's room, this room didn't say much about Justine at all. There were no stuffed animals, no pictures of movie actors or rock stars, no hint of a hobby, nothing personal at all, except for a picture of a smiling man and woman from the fifties in an ornate frame on the vanity.

Justine's schoolbooks were stacked on top of the radiator, but there was nothing in the room that could be used as a desk.

Strange, Niki thought. Justine must not take school very seriously. But then, she reminded herself, after all the places she's lived, Shadyside must seem like very small potatoes.

She opened each of the drawers in a chest, but there
wasn't much in them besides a few folded pairs of underpants and some sweaters.

Her curiosity piqued even more—by what she
hadn't
found—Niki opened the closet door and was shocked to find it almost empty, except for the school clothes she'd seen Justine in.

Where were her jeans, sweatshirts, sneakers? What did she wear after school? Didn't she have any party dresses?

She took her flashlight, shone it around the closet, then saw a faint, square-shaped crack at the back. She remembered the trapdoor in the fireplace and wondered if this was another one.

Excited, she stepped to the back of the closet and began to press around the crack with her fingertips. Nothing happened.

Frowning, Niki stared at the door, then began to feel around the empty closet shelves. Her finger touched a small knob and she turned it. The back of the closet swung open, revealing another, larger closet.

Niki gasped in surprise.

This hidden closet was jammed with clothing—but clothing very different from the everyday clothes she had seen. At first she thought they might be very old clothes left by the people who had lived in the Cameron mansion before.

But when she took a few off the hangers, she saw that they were new, many of them with labels from expensive designers and famous department stores in New York, San Francisco, and Paris.

There were beautiful woolen suits, shiny satin cocktail dresses, colorful skirts and jackets in sophisticated styles that no one she knew would wear. A chrome
rack on the floor held dozens of beautiful high-heeled shoes in every type of leather and every color of the rainbow.

The back of the closet revealed three beautiful full-length formal gowns and two fur coats, one mink and one fox.

Niki couldn't believe her eyes. This was the most beautiful wardrobe she had ever seen. Were all these clothes Justine's? But when would she wear them? And why were they hidden away like this?

Maybe, she decided, they were Justine's mother's clothes. But nobody really knew if Justine had a mother or not. Maybe there was another, older woman who lived here—Philip's girlfriend or wife, maybe? But in that case, why did Justine have so few clothes of her own?

It's a real mystery, Niki thought. She loved mysteries.

A small bureau stood against one side of the closet and Niki opened its drawers to reveal pastel negligees, nightgowns, and silk underwear. In the bottom drawer was a carefully wrapped package. She opened it, not even considering that someone might catch her snooping, and was shocked to see a framed photo of Justine and a man with their arms around each other, gazing lovingly into each other's eyes. But the man was much older—from the streaks of gray in his hair, at least forty.

Was Justine having an affair with an older man? Was that why she never went out with the boys from school or never went to any of the games?

Niki carefully put everything back just the way she had found it, then closed the secret door. She was
about to leave Justine's room when her eye caught the bathroom door.

She went in and, with only a small pang of conscience, opened the medicine chest. It was filled with typical medicine-cabinet things: toothpaste, mouthwash, several bottles of nail polish and other cosmetics, aspirin, and a box of Band-Aids.

There were three prescription bottles on the top shelf. Niki took them down one by one. She didn't recognize the names of any of the medications, except a sleeping pill her mother sometimes used. But all three prescriptions were made out to “Enid Cameron.”

Enid? Niki thought. Who's Enid? Philip's wife?

But no matter how many explanations she considered, the one that kept popping into her mind was that Justine was somehow leading a double life.

During the day she went to school like any other teenager. But at night and on weekends she had a whole other life that no one else knew anything about.

But why? And why keep it all such a secret?

Maybe, Niki thought, she was just letting her imagination run away from her. Maybe there was a logical explanation for everything she had seen. She needed to talk to Terry, she realized. If anyone could figure this puzzle out, it was him.

Now all she had to do was find him, somewhere in the mansion.

T
erry was really enjoying the treasure hunt. So far, in addition to the tarantula, he'd found three of the items on the list: a polished monkey skull that had been hidden inside a laundry hamper, a crystal ball,
and his latest acquisition, an ivory pendant in the shape of a dagger.

He found the pendant when he had opened a cupboard and was scared out of his wits by what appeared to be a bloody, disembodied head—but turned out, on closer inspection, to be the head of a mannequin, covered with catsup.

After he had got over his fright, Terry found the pendant around the mannequin's neck. He'd laughed and added it to the rest of his loot.

He heard a couple of other treasure hunters coming his way, then remembered that Justine had said her uncle Philip was preparing some surprises in the attic. He searched and found a narrow staircase leading upstairs.

Mounting the dark, creaky stairs to the attic, his heart thudded with anticipation and a little thrill of fear. What treasures would he find up there? What scares? This was definitely the best party he'd ever been to.

The attic was small and dusty, and filled with old boxes and trunks. Terry realized, from the thick layer of dust on the boxes and trunks, that they had been sealed up long ago.

He switched on the overhead light and spotted a closet door. A perfect place to hide items on the list, he thought.

Grinning to himself, Terry pulled open the door, then stopped and stared in shock.

“No! Oh, please—
no!
”

The room went white. Terry's breath caught in his throat.

He gripped the closet door to hold himself up and stared into the shadowy cubicle.

“Alex? Alex?” he cried.

Hanging from a rope was the limp body of the Silver Prince, his neck bent at an impossible angle. Sticky red blood was splattered over the front of the beautiful costume. It puddled onto the closet floor.

Drip, drip, drip . . .

I
t's another trick, Terry told himself.

Please. Oh, please—let it be another trick.

But the silver costume was real. And the blood continued to drip as he watched.

Drip, drip, drip.

A steady rhythm he knew he'd remember for the rest of his life.

He was still staring at the bent form of his friend, trying to get the strength to go for someone, when he heard a voice behind him. “Whatcha got—oh, no!”

It was David, horror on his face.

“I just found him,” Terry said, his voice and hands shaking. “Maybe it's another trick.”

“I don't think so,” said David. “Don't touch him. I'll go for help.”

“I'm coming with you.” Terry didn't want to spend another second with Alex's corpse.

On the way down the stairs they ran into Ricky,
Trisha, and Les. Quickly David told them what Terry had found.

“We've got to call an ambulance!” said Trisha. “Maybe he's only hurt.”

“It's more than that,” said David. “You didn't see him. His neck—all the blood . . . ”

Terry shuddered, remembering the ruined costume. He had had his problems with Alex, sure, but no one deserved to have something so terrible happen to him.

“At least call the police!” said Les.

“First let's tell Justine and her uncle what happened,” said David. “They'll know what to do.”

Justine and her uncle were sitting in front of the fireplace, talking together in low tones. When the frightened guests burst into the living room and explained what had happened, Justine jumped up at once, concern radiating from her lovely face.