‘We didn’t see Number Three.’
‘Or hear him.’
‘Or smell him.’
‘Or her.’
‘Or it.’
‘But we, like, felt the ambiance of a third party.’
‘Creeped us out.’
‘But not, like, that much. I mean, we hereby volunteer to help you search for the missing party.’
‘Right. We’re scared, but we’re not chicken.’
‘We’ll be your bodyguards.’
‘Thanks,’ Tuck said. ‘If you want to be a real help, though, why don’t you go on outside? Rhonda’ll be coming along pretty soon and she might be worried about us. Just tell her everything’s all right. Then you can either take off, or stick around for a while if you want to see who we turn up.’
‘Rhonda?’
‘She’s another guide,’ Tuck explained.
‘She a babe?’
‘A major babe,’ Tuck said, grinning. ‘She has a tendency to get nervous, though. So it’ll be really nice if you keep her company till we come out.’
‘We can do that.’
‘Sure. Happy to.’
‘Okay,’ Tuck said. ‘Thanks. One other thing.’
‘Anything you say.’
‘We’re, like, at your service.’
‘Stick close enough to the house so you can hear us if we call for help.’
‘You gonna be calling for help?’
‘Probably not. But you never know.’
‘Sounds to me like you definitely need bodyguards.’
‘We’d be happy to oblige.’
‘We’d guard your bodies with our lives.’
‘Or die trying.’
Dana laughed softly. ‘You guys are okay.’
‘Thanks.’
‘Yeah.’
‘What’re your names?’
‘I’m Arnold Anderson,’ said the boy in the Howard Stern T-shirt.
‘I’m Dennis Dexter?’ said the Beavis and Butthead fan, lifting his voice at the end as if asking whether this was his name.
‘A.A. ’n D.D.,’ said Arnold. ‘That’s what we call ourselves.’
‘And you’re Dana and Lynn,’ said Arnold.
‘That’s us,’ Tuck said. ‘Big D, Little L. Anyway, nice to meet you guys.’
‘A pleasure to make your acquaintance,’ said Dennis.
‘A great pleasure,’ said Arnold.
‘You’re, like, sure you want us to leave?’
‘Yeah. Keep Rhonda company and stand watch outside.’ Tuck stepped over to the door and opened it for them. Looking out, she said, ‘I don’t see Rhonda yet, but she’ll probably be along any minute. See you later, guys.’
They headed for the doorway.
‘Just shout if you need us,’ Arnold said.
‘We’ll come and save you,’ said Dennis. ‘We’ll, like, kick ass.’
‘Sounds good,’ Tuck said.
‘Bye, guys,’ Dana called after them.
Chapter Eighteen
The Search
As Arnold and Dennis trotted down the porch stairs, Tuck shut the door. ‘Okay! That’s two down, one to go. Now we’ve got the odds on our side.’
‘I liked it better the other way,’ Dana said. ‘What sort of person would want to hide out alone in a place like this?’
‘Maybe he isn’t hiding,’ Tuck suggested.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Maybe he dropped.’
‘Oh, terrific.’
‘Passed out, tossed a heart attack, popped an aneurism . . . Let’s start upstairs and work our way down.’
Dana nodded and followed Tuck to the foot of the stairs. Staying close to each other, they started to climb. ‘I won’t shout any more,’ Tuck said.
‘Glad to hear it.’
‘Unless we hit trouble. But if it’s BIG trouble, let’s just run like hell. Know what I mean?’
‘Sure.’
‘Like if a psycho starts coming down the stairs at us with a chain saw? We run. Got it?’
‘Got it.’
‘Or if a big white beast tries to nail us . . .’
‘We run.’
‘Right.’
‘I get the picture. Thanks.’
When they reached the top of the stairs, they stopped and looked both ways. In each direction, the dim, shadowy hall looked deserted.
‘You go that way,’ Tuck said, ‘I’ll go this.’
‘Bite me.’
‘Don’t you want to split up?’
‘Sure. We’ll split up and I’ll wait for you outside.’
‘Ah. Well. Never mind.’
Staying together, they turned to the left, walked in silence to the end of the corridor, and entered Lilly Thorn’s bedroom. Dana waited just inside the doorway, keeping watch while Tuck hurried through the room, glanced here and there, checked inside the armoir and finally sprawled on the floor for a look under the bed.
Getting up, Tuck brushed her hands off against each other and shook her head.
They crossed the hall to the bedroom Maggie Kutch had shared with her husband. It contained Maggie’s original furniture. But there were no wax figures of Maggie or any other member of her family. The exhibit showed a twelve-year-old boy, Larry Maywood, raising the window and looking over his shoulder in horror. His pal, Tom Bagley, lay mangled and bloody on the floor. Dana knew their story well. These two local boys had been avid fans of the tour. And they’d grown too curious. Late one night in 1951, they’d broken into the house to search for the beast. And they’d supposedly found it. Or it had found them.
Larry had escaped through the window, but poor Tom . . .
Dana glanced at Tom’s severed head. It rested on the floor near his shoulder. Facing her. Staring up at her.
She looked away from it.
For a few seconds, she watched Tuck performing the search. Then she just had to look at Tom again.
He was still staring at her.
Of course he is. If he stops staring at me, that’s when I’d better start worrying.
He gave her the creeps.
She kept trying to look away, but Tom’s gaze kept pulling at her.
At last, Tuck finished the search. As she came toward the door, Dana quickly stepped out into the hallway.
Tuck frowned at her. ‘You okay?’
‘Yeah.’
‘Not getting nauseous or anything?’
‘So far, so good. I just didn’t like the way Tom was staring at me.’
Tuck grinned. ‘He loves the pretty girls.’
‘Oh, thanks.’
‘Has great eyes, doesn’t he?’
‘They’re awful.’
‘That’s what I mean,’ Tuck said. ‘He upsets lots of people. They always get the idea he’s staring at them. So, are you ready for the attic?’
‘Ready as I’ll ever be.’
Dana followed Tuck down the hallway.
Arriving at the entrance to the attic, Tuck unhooked one end of the plush red cordon and eased it down gently against the door frame.
‘Chances are,’ she whispered, ‘we’ll find our missing tourist up here.’
‘Oh, good.’
‘They love to hide in the attic.’ Tuck reached up and clutched Dana’s shoulder. Holding on, she raised a knee and pulled off her shoe. After taking off the other, she whispered, ‘Lose your shoes. We want to take him by surprise.’
‘How’ll I kick his ass if I’m barefoot?’
‘Toe his ass.’
Shaking her head, Dana grabbed Tuck’s shoulder. As she pulled off her shoes, she noticed that she was trembling. And sweaty. Her blouse clung to her back. Her panties were sticking to her buttocks and groin. The feet of her socks were soaking wet.
‘You all right?’ Tuck whispered.
‘A little scared.’
‘I can take care of this if you wanta wait here for me.’
‘No. We stay together.’
‘You sure?’
‘Sure I’m sure.’
‘Wel
l, I’ll go up first.’
‘Okay.’
Tuck started climbing the stairs. Dana followed close behind her. The stairway was narrow and steep. Dana had seen plenty of it, that morning.
It was Station Seven.
Every tourist had stopped in the corridor and gazed up the dim stairway while listening to the story of Maggie Kutch’s flight for safety with her kids, the beast in hot pursuit.
Dana must’ve explained, at least twenty times, that the attic was off limits for reasons of safety.
But not off limits for us.
At the top of the stairs, Tuck reached out and turned the knob. Dana heard the latch click its release. The door creaked as Tuck pushed it open.
On the other side was darkness.
Instead of entering, Tuck reached around the corner. Her hand came back holding a flashlight. She showed it to Dana. With a smile, she gave it a twirl. Then she thumbed its switch. As a beam of bright light shot out, she stepped through the doorway.
Wait!
Dana rushed up the last few stairs and into the attic. She lurched to a stop behind Tuck, bumping her gently, then putting a hand on her shoulder.
Breathing hard, heart pounding, she watched the pale tube of light swing across the darkness. It lit galaxies of floating, swirling motes. It lit support beams, a sofa, chests of drawers, steamer trunks, chairs, lamps, tables . . .
A man.
Dana gasped.
‘Just a dummy,’ Tuck whispered.
With the flashlight, she quickly pointed out a couple of other mannequins. ‘They used to be exhibits,’ she explained. ‘Stay here a minute.’
Dana nodded and stayed.
Tuck started roaming the attic, playing the beam of light this way and that, making shadows leap and spread. ‘Doesn’t look like our missing tourist is up here,’ she said. ‘Gotta make sure, though. When we leave, I’ll lock the door. If he’s in here, he’ll be trapped. All night long.’
‘That’d be pleasant,’ Dana said.
‘Yeah. Wouldn’t it be? This place even gives me the creeps. I guess because the beast killed Maggie’s little girls up here.’
‘You come here with the Midnight Tour, don’t you?’
‘Sure do. It scares the crap out of everyone.’ She laughed softly. ‘I guess that about does it,’ she said, and started wandering back toward the door.
Dana watched her approach.
And watched the attic behind her.
Half expecting a shape to come lurching suddenly out of the darkness.
Hurry up!
‘I don’t know which is scarier,’ Tuck said, ‘the attic or the cellar.’
‘Let’s just get out of here.’
Almost back to Dana, Tuck switched off the flashlight. Dana stepped sideways through the doorway and climbed down a couple of stairs. Head up, she watched her friend return the flashlight to its place just inside the attic.
Tuck stepped out and pulled the door shut.
Its latch clicked.
Dana watched her.
‘Let’s go,’ Tuck said.
‘Don’t forget to lock it.’
‘Oh, it doesn’t lock.’
‘You said . . .’
‘That was just a fib in case our friend was listening.’
‘You aren’t going to lock it for the night?’
‘Can’t. The lock’s broken. Has been for years.’
‘Maybe you should get it fixed.’
‘Maybe.’ Tuck laughed softly, then started down the stairs.
Dana turned around and hurried to the bottom, glad to be putting distance between herself and the attic.
At the bottom, she picked up her shoes and stepped out of the way.
Tuck hooked the cordon in place.
They both started putting on their shoes.
‘Sorry I forgot to warn you about the dummies,’ Tuck said.
‘That’s all right. What’re they doing up there?’
‘Just hanging out.’ Finished putting on her shoes, Tuck stood up. ‘Actually,’ she said, ‘they’re former exhibits. One’s the cop . . .’
‘Dan Jenson?’
‘Right. He was moved to the attic back in ’79 after they busted him up. Then when Janice bought the place, she put the Zieglers up there with him. She needed to get them out of the middle of the hallway. Caused too much traffic conjestion. Ready to go?’
‘All set.’
‘Next stop,’ Tuck said, ‘the nursery.’
This time, Dana waited just outside the door while Tuck ducked under the cordon and hurried through the room.
Tuck found nobody.
They continued down the corridor to the room where Lilly’s boys had been slain. Again, Dana waited while Tuck did a quick search.
‘So that’s it for up here?’ Dana asked as they returned to the stairway.
‘That’s about it. The other doors are all kept shut and locked. Nobody can get into any of them without a key. So, I guess our boy must be downstairs.’
‘Or girl.’
‘It’ll be a guy,’ Tuck told her. ‘Girls never pull this sort of crap. Not by themselves.’
‘Never?’
‘Hardly ever.’
‘You saying girls are chicken?’
Tuck grinned. ‘Maybe not chicken. Maybe just smarter.’
‘I’ll go along with that.’
Laughing, they started to descend the stairs.
‘How often do you have to go through all this?’ Dana asked.
‘Pain in the ass, huh?’
‘A major pain.’
‘It gets easier the more often you do it.’
‘I hope it’s not every afternoon.’
‘It varies. We’ll sometimes go two or three weeks without a problem. Then again, sometimes it might be two or three days in a row.’
‘I could do without it completely,’ Dana said as they reached the bottom of the stairway.
‘Rhonda’s probably right outside. I can get her to finish up with me, if you’d rather . . .’
‘Trying to get rid of me?’
‘It’s your first day. You’ve done plenty.’
‘I’ll stick with you,’ Dana said.
‘All right, good deal. Let’s see how Ethel’s doing.’
Dana followed Tuck into the parlor and watched her scurry about in search of the missing tourist.
‘Are you sure we started with a hundred and fifty players?’ Dana asked. ‘Maybe we were one short . . .’
‘Nope. I checked, myself. We started with a hundred and fifty players in full working order.’
‘So one is definitely still out.’
‘Yep.’ Pausing, Tuck stared down at Ethel. ‘She still decent?’
‘Semi-decent.’
‘Good enough. I’d sure like to get my hands on whoever was in here screwing around with her.’
‘Better be careful what you wish for,’ Dana said.
Tuck came out. Together, they crossed the foyer and entered the dining room. They both glanced under the table, then split up to walk around it. They met again before stepping into the kitchen.
As they searched the kitchen, Dana said, ‘What if we can’t find him?’
‘If we can’t, we can’t.’
‘Does it ever happen?’
‘Now and then.’
‘Somebody just disappears?’
Tuck grinned at her. ‘Now and then.’
‘Oh, terrific.’
Off to the side of the kitchen was a door marked EMPLOYEES ONLY. Dana opened it and leaned in. She glanced at the old-fashioned toilet, bath tub and sink. In one corner stood a water heater. On the floor was a modern electric space heater. There were plush purple rugs and matching towels.
But no tourist.
‘Make sure nobody’s in the tub,’ Tuck said.
Dana groaned. Then she stepped through the doorway.
Tuck had pointed out the special ‘employees only’ restroom yesterday, but this was the first time Dana had entered it.
The air smelled like fresh, scented soap. Murky light filtered in through the window curtains.
A breeze came in with the light, filling the curtains and lifting them gently.
Turning her back to the window, Dana stared at the bath tub. It looked very old and very large. It was nestled in shadows against the far wall.
From where she stood, she couldn’t see all the way to its bottom.
If somebody’s hiding down there . . .
How ironic to pee my pants a few steps away from a toilet.
Fear growing in her belly, she rushed toward the tub.
And saw its bottom.
Empty.
‘All clear,’ she called out. Then she added, ‘I think I’ll take advantage of the john while I’m here.’
‘Help yourself.’
She returned to the door and shut it, then stepped over to the toilet.
This was really much nicer than the public restrooms out back.
Seated on the toilet, she found herself staring at the tub.
You hardly ever see them that big, she thought.
A green bath mat was draped over its side.
A bath mat?
‘Hey, Tuck,’ she called out, and realized she’d used the wrong name. ‘Lynn? Does somebody actually take baths in here?’
No answer came.
Dana felt a tremor of dread.
‘Lynn? Answer up.’
Silence.
‘Very funny,’ she called.
Nothing.
‘Damn it, Lynn!’
Still nothing.
‘You just gonna stand out there and pretend you’ve disappeared?’
Lynn didn’t answer.
‘Okay,’ Dana said. ‘Great.’
As fast as she could, she finished at the toilet. Holding her shorts up with one hand, she hurried to the door and pulled it open.
Tuck wasn’t standing there, looking pleased by her prank.
Nor was she sprawled on the floor, bloody and dead.
Dana stepped out.
Tuck didn’t seem to be in the kitchen at all.
Heart thudding, Dana buttoned the waist of her shorts. She pulled up the zipper. She buckled her belt.
In the room behind her, the toilet went silent.
Dana heard only her own quick heartbeat and breathing.
‘Tuck!’ she shouted.
‘I’m in the cellar!’ Tuck called. Her voice, sounding far away, came through the open pantry door at the other side of the kitchen. ‘Be right up!’
Dana hurried to the pantry and looked in.
At the back of it, the cellar door stood wide open.