The Whisperer (Nightmare Hall) (13 page)

Nightingale Hall was every bit as threatening-looking up close as it seemed from afar, Shea decided as Sid’s car crunched along the graveled driveway leading up the hill.

Tandy complained loudly during the drive about the dean’s reaction to her haircut. “She said she was sure it was a prank! Can you believe it? A prank! As if we were in sixth grade. She said I could file a formal complaint if I insisted, but I could tell from her voice that no one would pay any attention to it.”

She was still loudly deploring the “lack of security” on campus when Sid turned into Nightingale Hall’s driveway.

The huge, off-campus dorm at the top of the hill was aglow with lights. But somehow they did little to dispel the creepy atmosphere.

Shea forced herself to “mingle” for the first half hour, as if she really had come there to party. She talked to people, laughed at all the right moments, pretended to sip her drink and nibble on a taco, but all the while her eyes were sweeping whatever room she happened to be in, looking for some clue.

If I were a videotape, where would someone hide me? she asked herself repeatedly, never coming up with a satisfactory answer. There were so many rooms in the house—living room, a library filled with floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, a long, narrow kitchen at the rear of the house, a big dining room, hallways, pantry and closets, and a curving wooden staircase leading to the second floor. There was also, she had been told, a basement and an attic. How would she ever cover that much ground by herself?

Disheartened, Shea almost gave up then. It was impossible.

It was Coop who inadvertently changed her mind. He arrived late, slightly breathless. When he spotted Shea sitting on the piano bench, he came straight toward her. “Sorry I’m late,” he apologized. “Made the mistake of getting caught up in a movie in the Student Center, and wanted to see how it ended. I think you’d like it. Maybe I’ll rent it some time and we can watch it together.”

Rent it … watch it … on … a VCR! Shea smiled broadly at Coop. That could be
it!
If I were a videotape, she told herself with satisfaction, I’d be hiding in a VCR.

“Excuse me,” she said to a baffled Coop, “I’ll be right back.” Jess Vogt, who lived at Nightmare Hall, was standing at the dining room table, filling a paper plate. Shea forced herself to walk up next to her, pick up a plate and say as casually as possible “So Jess, do you guys have a VCR here?”

“No, we don’t,” Jess said. “Why?”

Shea shrugged, “Oh, I was just wondering …”

“Mrs. Coates has one, though,” Jess continued, moving around the table as she filled her plate. “Our housemother. She doesn’t go out much, so she rents a lot of movies.”

A surge of renewed hope flowed through Shea. The housemother! She had a VCR. Where did she keep it?

“It’s in her room,” Jess said, as if she’d heard the question, “and sometimes she invites us to watch a movie. But she has that small bedroom off the kitchen and there isn’t room for more than one or two people at a time.”

Shea registered the information carefully. Small bedroom off kitchen. Okay. Now, she decided, the best thing to do was keep making conversation and filling her plate. Then she would walk away, set the plate down somewhere, and sneak into the kitchen to find that bedroom and, she hoped, that tape.

Coop would be looking for her. She hurried back to him, handed him her plate, saying, “Here. Eat hearty. I’ll go dig up some drinks somewhere. In the kitchen, I guess,” and turned and left before he could say a word. Checking to make sure the housemother was not in her bedroom—she wasn’t, she was in the dining room filling several bowls—Shea slipped along the hallway to the kitchen. She wouldn’t have much time. Any minute now, Mrs. Coates would be returning to the kitchen and then might retire for the evening to her room. Every second counted.

Shea opened the pantry door by mistake. But the second door she tried was unlocked, and opened to a small, cluttered bedroom with a neatly made bed covered with a chenille spread, an old, dark dresser, squat, ugly chest of drawers, and, against the wall opposite the foot of the bed, an inexpensive wooden cart holding a television set and … a VCR.

Shea glanced back into the kitchen. No Mrs. Coates yet. She closed the bedroom door softly, and hurried over to the cart.

She touched the eject button on the VCR, and a tape slid forward. Was it the one?

Shea grasped the tape and looked for some identifying label. There it was, on the side, in black ink.
STARK OFFICE.

How on earth had the whisperer gained access to this room in this house?

Maybe it hadn’t been so difficult. The house would have been empty most of the day, with everyone in classes or in town buying supplies for the party. It might not have been that difficult for someone to slip in, plant the tape, and hurry away.

Shea slid the tape into her shoulder bag. No time to look at it now. She’d never dare view it in this room. She had to leave
now,
before someone found her in here.

There was always the lounge when she got back to Devereaux. If she waited until everyone else had gone to bed, she’d have that VCR all to herself.

I’ve waited this long, what’s a few more hours? she thought. She
had
the tape. It was hers. She wasn’t going to have to confess after all, wasn’t going to have to face Dr. Stark. She could stay in school and never do anything so stupid again, as long as she lived.

“What are you doing in here?”

Shea whirled, furious with herself for not leaving the room more quickly.

Dinah was standing in the doorway. Sid, Tandy and Coop were behind her.

All four were looking at Shea as if they’d caught her stealing Nightmare Hall’s silverware.

“I … I
GOT LOST,”
Shea said, moving away from the VCR. She was almost positive the tape had been safely hidden in her shoulder bag before they all arrived on the scene. “I thought this was the bathroom.”

“The bathroom’s upstairs,” Tandy said, her voice cool.

She still thinks I had something to do with her haircut, Shea realized with a stab of resentment.

“You walked all the way across the room before you realized this wasn’t the bathroom?” Sid asked caustically. “Didn’t the bed give you a clue?”

Shea’s tone was defensive as she answered, “I thought maybe that door over there,” motioning toward what she knew perfectly well had to be a closet, “was the bathroom.”

“Right,” Sid said sarcastically.

Shea sent him a look of disgust. What did he think she’d been doing, stealing the housemother’s jewelry?

It didn’t matter what he thought. She had the tape. If it hadn’t been for the Tom and Jerry cartoon, she’d trash the tape right now, toss it in the kitchen garbage can, be done with it. But she
had
to see it first, make sure it was what the label said it was.

“Dance with me, Coop,” she said, hurrying out of the room and tugging on his hand.

“I thought you were looking for the bathroom,” Sid reminded her.

“I’d rather dance,” Shea said lightly, and pulled Coop away from the group.

Now that she had the tape …
if
it was the right one … maybe she could relax and have a good time. She had to wait until later to get to the VCR in the lounge, anyway. Might as well enjoy the party.

She did enjoy it. After one or two dances with Coop, she was able, with some effort, to convince herself that she
did
have in her possession the tape that could have ruined her life. Convincing herself of that allowed her to relax and have fun.

But by the time she left the party with Coop, she was beginning to feel anxious. What if this wasn’t the tape? What if the whisperer had tricked her again? What if …

“Is it me?” Coop asked when they were settled in the front seat of his car. He started the engine and steered down the long, gravel driveway. “You’ve been out in left field for the last fifteen minutes.”

“I’m sorry. I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

When Coop had dropped her off at Devereaux, she ran down to the lounge, hoping it would be empty.

It wasn’t. A group of Sylvester Stallone fans had taken over the room, apparently enjoying a marathon of the star’s movies. When Shea asked how many more they were planning on watching, the boy she asked pointed to three more cassettes stacked on top of one another next to the television set.

She left in disgust. She
had
to look at that tape tonight.

Dinah was just going into her room when Shea came out of the stairwell.

“You looked like you were having a good time,” Dinah said, moving toward Shea. Her tone seemed wistful.

“Didn’t you?” As if anyone could have a good time with Sid-the-grouch.

“It’s this stupid competition for the A.B.S. lab job,” Dinah complained. “Sid isn’t himself.”

If only that were true, Shea thought. It would be a refreshing change. “Don’t worry about it,” Shea said. “There’s nothing you can do to get that job for him.”

“I know.” Dinah’s tone was unhappy.

The last thing in the world Shea wanted was to discuss Sidney Frye. “Listen,” she said lightly, “do you know anyone who has a VCR? My mom sent me a tape from home, and I’d really like to watch it tonight. Kind of homesick, you know?”

“Your family sure sends you a lot of tapes.”

Was that suspicion in Dinah’s voice? “Well, do you? Know anyone who has one?”

“They have a couple at the library. Downstairs. In those cubicles.”

Shea looked at her watch. It was quarter to twelve. She’d have to hurry before the library closed.

“Great. See you later. Thanks.” Shea’s heart began pounding rapidly. She had almost given up hope of viewing the tape that night. The thought of waiting to find out if she really was off the hook had been sickening. She turned and ran back down the stairs.

The library was nearly deserted. A couple sitting at one of the long, wooden tables stood up as Shea entered. She didn’t see anyone else. One librarian stood at the checkout desk. She frowned with annoyance when Shea entered. “We’re about to close—”

“I’ll just be a few minutes,” Shea called, and ran down the curving iron stairs to the lower level before the librarian could stop her.

It was deserted. There was no one at any of the computers, no one using any of the VCRs in the little cubicles. Quiet as a tomb, and not very well lit.

After checking each cubicle, Shea went back to the first one and entered, closing the door after her. Her fingers trembled with anticipation as she inserted the tape and switched on the machine. Then she sank into the straight-backed wooden chair facing the VCR.

The picture wasn’t that great. Unfocused. Dr. Stark still had a thing or two to learn about technology. In a corner at the bottom of the screen was the time and date. It
was
the day she’d been in Dr. Stark’s office, the first time, when she’d copied the exam. But the time was an hour earlier than her visit. She would have to fast-forward. The librarian upstairs wouldn’t wait forever.

There … the tall, potted plant, the heavy wooden desk … the pile of papers. … Shea felt a mixture of relief and elation. It really was the right tape, after all. And
she
had it!

She was free. Free of the whisperer and his tormenting. She could hardly believe it. At last!

She was about to fast-forward when a figure appeared on the screen. A pair of hands began fumbling frantically through the papers. But … the time on the bottom of the screen had only moved ahead a minute or two. It was still too early. Shea hadn’t been in the office then.

And … Shea leaned forward … there was something else wrong …

The figure wasn’t wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a cardigan. It was wearing a university sweatshirt. And a pleated skirt.

“I don’t own a pleated skirt,” Shea said aloud.

But then … she didn’t have short, dark, curly hair, either, did she? And she wasn’t at all round. She was thin and angular.

‘That’s not me,” she murmured, standing up to peer more closely at the screen.

There was a sound behind her as the door opened.

Shea turned.

“Well, I see you found it,” Dinah said. She leaned against the door frame. Her face was very pale. “Good for you.”

“F
OUND IT?”
S
HEA ECHOED.

“The videotape. From Stark’s office.” Dinah remained in the doorway, arms folded across her chest. “I thought you probably had. Why else would you be looking for a VCR?”

Struggling to get her thoughts in order, Shea turned and ejected the tape. She held it in one hand and turned back to Dinah. “You … that’s you on this tape,” she said slowly. “Going through Dr. Stark’s papers.”

Dinah nodded. Her face was still as white as the wall behind her. Her dark eyes never moved from Shea’s face. “I know. Give it to me.”

Shea’s grip on the black plastic case tightened. “You were in the office that day, too? Before me? Looking for the exam?”

Dinah let out a deep breath and relaxed against the doorway. “I’ve been cheating in school for years. Ever since tenth grade. After a while, I couldn’t remember when I hadn’t cheated. It started with just one little math test. I was having trouble, and my folks were on my back every second. ‘A
B
just will not do, Dinah, dear,’ ‘We know you can do better, Dinah,
dear,’
‘We do expect to see your name on the honor list, Dinah, dear.’ They never let up, not for a minute. A friend of mine had stolen an exam, and he told me how easy it was.”

A friend? Shea knew immediately who the “friend” was. Sid. And she finally understood why Dinah put up with Sid, who was too possessive and too critical of her. Because he
knew.
He knew she cheated. And just as the whisperer could have ruined Shea’s life, so could Sid ruin Dinah’s. If she made him mad. If she rejected him. If she gave him any reason at all, Sid could pull Dinah’s college career, her life, down around her in ruins.

“Sid,” Shea said.

Dinah nodded again. “I went away to music camp the summer after our junior year, and I met this really nice guy.” Her eyes closed. When they opened again, she said, “I came home and told Sid I thought we should date other people. He went crazy. He said … he said it would really be a shame if my parents and everyone at school found out what I’d been up to all that time, how I got my straight A’s. He reminded me that the scholarship I needed for college would go to someone else if the truth came out. Without it, I wouldn’t be able to go. Not,” Dinah added bitterly, “that any college would have accepted me if I’d been expelled from high school for cheating.”