Wait Until Dark (29 page)

Sick to his stomach and dizzy, Will had excused himself from dancing, and found a cool place to sit. The bale of bound hay against the barn post had been perfect. He'd had flu shots, and he'd eaten nothing that disagreed with him, and had not indulged in anything alcoholic. So why did he feel like he'd consumed five martinis?

Had Buck put something in the cider he'd given Will?
If I had finished the whole cup, I would be falling down drunk.
Could Buck have done such a stupid thing out of jealousy, or a desire to make him look bad in front of Addie? It was something a high school kid would do, immature and spiteful.

Will was trying to reason out that startling thought when he'd noticed Jingles sitting in the loft with the children. Laughing, and dancing a jig with the kids inside their fort, Jingles kept puffing on his pipe, while sparks from the pipe jumped into the dry straw all around the merry group.

Will had yelled to Jingles, but the music was too loud.

He'd made his way through the dancers and begun to climb the ladder when he heard a child voice the first alarm. He hadn't been too worried at first. Sometimes a small hay fire can be stomped out quickly, but something else stored in the barn must have ignited because the flames grew out of control in no time.

Will figured the old furniture and stored burlap bags filled with feed had caught and added to the inferno. Like a ravenous beast, the fire ate at the barn, and everything in the barn, in starving gulps. Hungry for the air it needed to live, the fire swallowed everything in its path.

The roar of the fire swept closer. A barn owl zipped by his head, followed by three smaller ones. The frenzied flapping of their wings sent brief, whishing, welcome puffs of motion across his perspiring head.

The tempo of Amy's frightened breathing against his neck increased. The seven-year-old panted like a tiny caged animal.

Almost there, Amy. Almost there.
The smoke cleared and the loft door, a blessed open rectangle of star-studded indigo sky, presented itself right in front of him. With enormous relief he lowered Amy to the floor, and looked down. A babble of voices traveled up from below. A shout rang out.

"There they are," yelled someone. "Harry, swing that pulley closer."

Enormous relief swept through Will as he realized the children could be lowered with the pulley. Everyone would reach the ground, and safely, relatively unharmed. Brad, Jingles, and the other two children crowded around him as he knelt on the edge and scanned the crowd below.

Where was Addie? He couldn't find her. He spotted Eileen Rivers. The abject horror in her eyes could be seen at this distance, and he knew immediately that Addie hadn't gotten out.

Hanging on for dear life, Amy and Brad were lowered on the pulley, and Will turned to speak to Jingles.

"You make sure the other kids get down safely. I'm going back for Addie."

"You ain't doin' no such thing. There ain't nothin' left. We're damned lucky we made it, Professor. The fire's eatin' at our ass right now."

The ferocious heat of the flames seared his face as he looked behind him. The stench of singed hair on his arm stung his nostrils, as his heart shook with terror.

Jingles was right. The barn, and everything in it, was gone.

6

WHITE.
White. Everything that had been red, black, blue and yellow had turned white. A misty, magic, soothing white. She had traveled to another land, another world, or dimension. Someplace with lovely fairies flowing in the air, and airy emerald trees, and blissful faces. Nice there. Happy there.

She wanted to return to that peaceful, carefree place. She struggled against the strong arms that held her. Someone gripped her so tight to his chest that his ribs dug roughly into her cheek. His jarring stride ignited every sensitive nerve ending in her drained body.

Her throat was on fire. So sore. So sore. And she smelled bad. Burned hair. Oh, God, was her hair all gone? She tried to open her eyes, but they were swollen shut.

Whoever you are, just let go of me. Let me go. I hurt everywhere. I can't breathe. Let me go.

With horror, she remembered now the fire, and the man strangling her.

Oh, dear God, the killer hasn't finished. We're out of the barn. He's taking me where no one will ever find me. He’ll rape me like he did the others.

She struggled, tried to kick, tried to bite, but she was too tired. Exhausted.

Everything went black again.

7

A THOUSAND STAMPEDING HORSES
stomped across her chest, their hot hooves striking sparks through her entire exhausted body. So dry, so hurting. Addie's burning lungs heaved for air, and her throat felt like summer roof tar.

Somewhere there were voices. A coughing spasm wracked her body until the bed shook, forcing Addie's swollen eyes open. Everything appeared blurry and fuzzy. But the ruffled, pink lace canopy over her head looked nothing like the enchanted place she'd visited when she'd passed out in the barn, so she knew she had returned to the land of the living. Mrs. Simples's fussy lace canopy was a welcome sight.

Dr. Hamilton, Blue Spring's one practicing physician, stood on one side of the bed next to her mother, and Donny Jim hovered at the other like a protecting, avenging angel with singed eyebrows and hair. His nut-brown eyes held a hard, "dare me" expression, as he searched continually around the bedroom. She followed his gaze.

The
Simples family gathered anxiously in a corner. Next to them stood a grimy, red-faced Buck, who glared at Donny Jim. Will leaned against the wall at the end of her bed staring at her as if he wanted to make sure she wouldn't disappear.

Lee Bert stood wide-legged in the doorway, trying to look official and important, his arms folded across his chest. Looking over his shoulder were Jingles, Dixie, and other concerned faces.

She squeezed her mother's hand, and said, "I'm fine, Mom." Her voice sounded like a foghorn, and each word sliced her throat like a paring knife. "A little worse for wear, but fine."

Tears flowed down her mother's cheeks. "Oh, Addie, we've been so worried. An ambulance is on the way."

Buck made a move toward her, but Donny Jim lifted his arm like a traffic cop, and made a violent halting gesture with his hand.

"Now listen here, Doc Hamilton," said Buck, "I'm not going to let that... that... that retard keep me from Addie's bedside. You tell him that I would never hurt my Addie."

Doctor Hamilton sighed. "Sorry, Buck, but there's no way he's going to let you near her. Somehow, Addie and I will convince him that you won't harm her. In the meantime, relax. You can be with her at the hospital."

"What's going on, Doc?" croaked Addie, pressing her hand to her throat in an attempt to alleviate the pain.

She felt then the bruises and scratches on her neck. The terrifying confrontation in the barn with the stranger rushed back to grip her with such horror that every muscle in her body tightened like a bowstring, and her jaws clamped like a vise.

"Donny Jim saved your life, Addie. Evidently he carried you through the door on the far side of the barn. We found the two of you under the big oak tree. He wouldn't let us near you, but he was trying to tell us why. He kept putting his hands around his throat as if he were being choked, and he made awful faces, and groped at us like he might imagine a monster would."

A sob, like a bullfrog's nighttime lament, rasped through Addie's raw throat.

''What was he trying to tell us?" her mother asked. Addie closed her eyes for a second, dredging up strength to tell them about the terrifying moments in the smoke-filled barn, then opened them.

"At first, I thought someone was trying to help me find my way out through the smoke, but they weren't. They tried to kill me, tried to strangle me." Trembling with emotion, her tortured voice broke and she couldn't go on.

Will moved toward her, but Donny Jim blocked his way.

Will raised his hands, and looked as if he wanted to shove the big mute away from him, but thought better of it. He restrained himself and leaned back against the wall.

Covered with soot, Will looked like a chimney sweep. Bloody streaks outlined rips in his shirt, and the skin on his arms had turned bright pink. His worried gaze examined her over and over again, starting at her head and following every curve, convex, and concave part of her all the way to her toes. All Addie wanted to do was stare right back at him, gobble him up with her eyes, invite him to crawl into bed with her so they could comfort each other.

"Did you see who attacked you?" asked a bristling Buck. "Who was it? It was probably Donny Jim. How do we know he's telling the truth? He tried to strangle you and then got scared that he might die in the fire, too, so he brought you out."

"Are you all right? Did he do anything besides choke you
?"
asked Will.

They all spoke at once.

"Can you remember anything, Addie?" asked Lee Bert. "You know, did he smell of anything, like cologne, maybe, or did he have a mole on his nose?"

Addie felt a nervous laugh trying to bubble up at Lee Bert's denseness, but it died swiftly. "Lee Bert, I couldn't smell anything but smoke, or feel anything but heat, and I sure couldn't see any moles on his face. I'm sure it wasn't Donny Jim, Buck."

"Well, who do you think it might have been, Addie, dear?" asked Buck.

"I think it was the stranger. He was a stranger to me, anyway. He asked me some odd questions while we were dancing. I think he said his name was Stowalsky. David Stowalsky."

"No, Addie, he wouldn't hurt you. Agent Stowalsky is with the FBI," said Lee Bert. "He was here to investigate, and to protect you. He's outside right now interrogating everyone who came to the hoedown."

Addie knew she had to make an effort to defuse the obviously tense standoff among her friends in the bedroom. She garnered any shreds of remaining stamina, and tried to smile. Her tense jaws ached with the effort, but she smiled at Buck, who still frowned in the corner, then motioned to Donny Jim to come close. Using every means of communication they had developed between them, she told the man that no one here would hurt her, and that he must let them come near.

He finally nodded an assent, but refused to leave her side as they loaded her into the ambulance. He rode to the hospital with her and Buck.

Will and Jingles, with burns on their arms and back, were in a following ambulance. Because of the quick thinking of Will, the children had emerged relatively unscathed.

8

ADDIE WORKED CONTENTEDLY IN
the hushed library, relieved to be back at work after a week of recuperating from the physical and emotional trauma of the fire. She was alone, but she welcomed the solitude. People had been hovering around her for days like worker bees around the queen.

It was late, ten o'clock, but she had so much to catch up on.

A sound behind her startled her, and she twirled the swiveled chair around.

"Oh, Donny Jim! Lee Bert said you would be here tonight, and I forgot. Great. That makes me happy. I know I'm safe with you here."

Knowing her words fell on useless ears, Addie grinned as big as she could to convey her pleasure. Her signing skills were limited, but she tried a few words, then drew letters on the palm of his beefy hand. The two of them had worked out ways of communicating.

His soft brown eyes warmed with joy, and he nodded his head so vigorously his cheeks reddened.

"You don't have to stay right here beside me tonight," she explained to him. "I'll be fine. You dust the shelves."

He nodded and moved off down an aisle, glancing over his shoulder to check on her as he went, then finally disappeared.

The phone rang, and she sighed, running her hands through her new short haircut in frustration. It had to be either Buck or Will calling. Both of them kept such close tabs on her they were driving her crazy. Every night she said a prayer asking God to please help law enforcement find the man who had attacked her in the barn.

When she thought of the nightmare moments in the smoke her body iced with fear so real that she shook with chills. She avoided recalling the memory at all costs. Quickly, she snatched up the phone, eager to talk to the caller and forget her memories.

"Hi, beautiful librarian of my heart. Are you okay there?"

"I'm just fine, Will. Really, I am. Donny Jim is here, and Lee Bert is right outside on the bench."

"Too bad the FBI guy had an emergency. If I know Lee Bert, he's reading a comic book, or he's fallen asleep."

Addie laughed. "He takes his job very seriously, Will. This is the biggest thing that's ever happened to him."

"I know, beautiful, but I won't feel right until you get home. I'm surprised Buck isn't hovering over you," he said with a touch of sarcasm.

“He called earlier, and wanted to come and stay with me, but I told him the same thing I just told you."

There was a short silence. "I see."

"How are you feeling?" she asked him.

Confined to bed until this afternoon, with his arms wrapped in gauze, Will was getting restless.

"I'm doing great. Rags is right here next to me, and the Simples children visited again. They brought the kittens with them, and told me they sleep with them every night just to make sure they're safe. The best news came from Dr. Hamilton, who called to tell me my lungs are clear, and that I could remove the gauze on my arms. So I did, with your mom's help, and they don't look bad at all. Just have to keep salve on my arms for a few more days. Come home, Addie, or I'm coming to get you myself."

"You're supposed to be resting, regaining strength. Dr. Hamilton said you're lucky your lungs weren't permanently damaged."

"There's no way in hell I'm getting back in that bed."

"Okay," she sighed. "Just another thirty minutes, Will. I promise. Don't come. Lee Bert will bring me home in the cruiser."

He laughed. "I think you like riding in that cruiser."

"Yeah. Especially when he turns on the flashing red lights. I feel like arriving royalty."

They laughed.

Will said, "Come home, princess."

"See you soon," she said, and hung up.

The pile of work on her desk soon absorbed her. Fear was shoved away until only distant edges framed her, and the tug of war between Will and Buck was forgotten for a while. Time slipped away as she studied new children's books being offered for selection next year. The town council had told her they had a lean budget for the coming year, so she had to be judicious in what she ordered.

A plaintive meow registered in her consciousness, and she wondered briefly about Coffee. He'd deserted his post at her feet. She continued working. Another meow. She raised her head and listened. The swish of something slipping across the floor came from the history section to the rear.

Odd, she thought.
Haven't I heard that sound before? Oh, sure, it's Donny Jim. He's usually so quiet, though.
In fact, Donny Jim moved so silently that he often appeared almost magically.
Kind of spooky, sometimes,
she thought.

She went back to her work, but she'd lost her focus. Concentrating had become a chore. At the sound of Coffee meowing again somewhere in the library, she dropped her pencil and stood up. It sounded as if the cat needed help, and she remembered the day she'd found him locked in the cellar.

"Darn cat. I'll bet he's in the cellar again." It was a mystery to her how the cat got in there. "Maybe Donny Jim let him in there accidentally."

She started to call out for the quiet man, but then felt foolish. They communicated so well that she often forgot Donny Jim was deaf and mute. He couldn't hear Coffee's meowing distress calls. She would have to look for the cat herself.

The heels of her loafers clicking on the hardwood floor echoed hollowly in the silent library. She passed through Non-fiction, patting a book into place here and there as she went, and arrived in History. Visibility was limited here at night. They had tried all kinds of different lighting solutions, but the area was windowless, high-ceilinged, and difficult to light. An antique Tiffany lamp, casting a weak amber glow, sat on one table.

Surprised that she hadn't caught a glimpse of Donny Jim, she glanced down each aisle as she traversed the sea leading to the cellar door.

Coffee's worried wail came again.

Addie stopped dead in her tracks. Something wasn't right. Her skin crawled with the sensation. She felt it in her bones.

A sudden chill raised the fine hair on the nape of her neck, and goosebumps prickled her arms.

No. This is absurd. Donny Jim is here somewhere. He watches me like a hawk. And Lee Bert is outside. No one could have come in.

Her heart flew a rapid rat-tat-tat, thundering so hard in her ears that she could hardly hear. She grabbed hold of a nearby shelf, drew a deep breath, and released it slowly.

Yes, they could, Addie. Someone could sneak behind the bench Lee Bert's sitting on, and go around back to the old cellar door. Wouldn't take much to pry up the rotted boards.

Imagination, Addie, imagination.

She took a few steps, wishing she could find Donny Jim. He couldn't hear her, so she would have to search the library. A fine mist of sweat broke out on her forehead, and her armpits were dripping. Her chest itched where her wool sweater stuck damply to her ribs.

Suddenly, she knew she didn't have time to look for him. She had to leave the library. Now!

Coffee cried again.

She couldn't leave the poor cat locked up.

Running the last few steps to the cellar door, she yanked it open.

Coffee yowled, and leaped out straight into Addie's arms, followed by the dank cellar odor. The weight of him threw her off-balance, and she sat heavily on the floor, square on her butt.

"Ouch, cat."

The shock of it, and the heavy bundle of cat fur in her lap, kept her sitting on the floor, dulling her immediate panic to get out of the library.

Coffee purred softly, and un-catlike nuzzled beneath her armpit. He acted as if he'd been scared to death.

"What's the matter, you big scaredy-cat?"

Her voice echoing in the silence renewed her sense that something was terribly wrong here in the once friendly library, that something evil was close enough to touch. Coffee dug his claws into her shoulder and let out an unearthly howl.

Addie shivered violently, and spilling Coffee out of her lap, tried to get to her feet. But her knees were shaky, and she kept her eyes glued to the floor. She had diligently avoided looking through the yawning door into the dark dankness of the cellar stairwell. But now she was dreadfully drawn there. As if lured by things unimaginable, her gaze, on a level now with the stairwell landing, riveted on the object she'd pretended wasn't there since she'd first yanked the door open.

A foot, twisted at a grotesque angle, lay on the landing.

The foot wore a large, dusty brogan. Donny Jim’s shoes looked like that. Rising slowly, straightening to stand erect, Addie knew fear like she'd never known before. It choked her until her stomach churned, and she felt sick.

The foot belonged to Donny Jim. She knew that. And she couldn't run away and leave him there. Her feeling of aloneness enhanced ten-fold. Even Coffee had deserted her, leaping off like lightning into the safety of the brightly lit area around her desk.

With buckling knees almost dropping her to the floor, and with teeth clamped until her jaws ached, Addie bullied herself forward to the yawning cellar door.

She stepped onto the landing, grasped the stair handrail for support, and knelt to investigate.

Donny Jim's bulky body, twisted, still, and facedown, sprawled down the steps into the blackness. His broad shoulders rested solidly on a step, but his head had disappeared into the descending darkness. She couldn't tell whether he was breathing or not.

You'll have to go down there, Addie. You'll have to walk down those stairs and see what the situation is.

She fumbled for the light switch next to the door, but the old-fashioned twist knob was loose, as if someone had removed and not replaced it properly. Cautiously, placing one foot after the other, she lowered herself deeper into the darkness. Finally, breathless, stomach twisting and catching, she reached Donny Jim's head and knelt to investigate.

With a death grip on the stair railing, she ran her other hand over her big friend's burly shoulders, and then up the back of his neck. The warm, sticky residue
that came off on her hand wasn't difficult to identify. Forcing herself to continue the inspection, she felt the back of his head and encountered more blood and a wound of major proportions.

Donny Jim's head had been bashed in with a weapon wielded by a powerful hand. The opening was soft and malleable. Pieces of splintered bone were mixed with a squashy substance she couldn't identify. Pus, or brains? She gagged, and jerked her hand away.

"Addie?"

She screamed, and stumbled down the step behind her. Only her tight grip on the rail kept her from falling the rest of the way down onto the cellar floor.

Someone stood in the cellar doorway blocking the light from the library.

"Addie? What are you doing down there? "What did you find?"

"Oh, thank God. It's you, Buck."

Giddy with waves of relief, she sat heavily on the step next to Donny Jim's inert head. She closed her eyes, and let her head sink back to rest against the wall behind her.

"What's the matter?” he asked.

The voice that whished out of her sounded like a tin whistle.

"Oh, God, Buck. Get Lee Bert, and call 911. Donny Jim has a hideous wound on his head. I can't tell if he's breathing."

The old wooden steps creaked as he slowly made his way down to her, and she wondered why he hadn't rushed to the phone to call the ambulance.

"Buck. Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Run, quick, call for help."

"I'm not worried about you, Addie."

His feet were on the step right above her. She crooked her neck so she could look up into his face. But Buck was so tall; his head vanished into the gloom of the stairwell.

"The lights aren't working. We need a flashlight. I can't see a thing now with you blocking the light."

"We'll be fine. I repaired the switch just now, but we aren't going to need illumination. I've got eyes like a cat. Besides, I know my way around the cellar by heart, and I've rigged the lights so they will behave as I want them.''

"This is ridiculous." She stretched her hand up to him for assistance. "Help me up. We'll go get Lee Bert."

But he didn't take her hand. What was wrong with him?

Her hand fell on his shoe as she braced to stand up. Buck's shoe seemed supple and soft, like felt. It wasn't a shoe. It was a slipper. Buck wore slippers. How odd.

Buck is so impeccable. Always. Neat. Never a hair out of place. Shoes always cleaned and polished. Always a suit to church, jeans at a picnic. Why is he wearing his slippers?

The notion that he would wear slippers out in public was as mind-boggling as this devastating bloody scene with Donny Jim. Maybe she was losing it. Maybe this was another nightmare.

"I know it isn't important right now, Buck, but why are you wearing slippers?" She started to laugh, but the laugh came out a nervous giggle.

"Slippers made it easier to move around without your knowing I was in the library, dear Addie. So you wouldn't catch me watching you. You almost caught me though, the night I followed you home jogging. I never made that mistake again."