Helens-of-Troy (36 page)

Ellie had wanted to talk to her about
the second murder, but didn’t know how to broach the subject. This
seemed like the opportune moment.

“Did you see anyone hanging around
Tara’s place?” Ellie asked hesitantly, not sure how much she wanted
to divulge to Jacey about why she wanted to know. She had to make
the question sound like a routine one. “I mean, were there any
strange looking guys hanging around the street corner or
anything?”

“Hardly,” Jacey replied. “Tara lives
out the highway, on a farm near Stillman’s Creek. It’s not too far
from the old abandoned Amish school. You don’t get many blokes
hanging around way out there. There is no way Kevin Clark should
have been out there. Not with Ralph and his stupid mutts roaming
around. I dropped Tara off at the laneway because I didn’t want to
deal with either of them.”

“When did you find out what
happened?”

“Tara called me from the hospital. They
took Ralph there.”

“How much do you know about the dream I
had?” Ellie asked her. She wondered how far the gossip had
spread.

“Tara told me you knew where they would
find Brooke’s body. I know that much. But you didn’t know anything
about the murder at her place before it happened, did
you?”

“No.” Ellie thought for a moment and
shook her head. “I only dreamt about the little girl.”

“Maybe you have a closer connection to
her or summat,” Jacey shrugged.

“Why? I never met her before. I met
Kevin on Halloween, when he was out with Ryan, Tom and Stan, but I
swear, I didn’t lose any sleep over him. He was not in my dream
that night or any night since.”

“Maybe the dream wasn’t really about
Brooke. Maybe she just happened along into it, and it was really
all about summat else.”

Ellie hadn’t considered this. It was
possible that the dream, if it had any hidden meaning at all, was
about something less obvious. But what?

“You said there was an abandoned school
out by Tara’s?”

Jacey nodded. “It’s across the bridge
from her place. If you hang a left at Emerson’s Feed Mill and go
for about a mile, you can’t miss it.”

A bridge, a creek and an old school.
Ellie tucked the information into the back of her brain. More
pieces of the puzzle were slowly coming together. If the Shadowman
hadn’t taken her from her room to save the little girl, what was he
really trying to tell her? What was it he had said?

“Do something, Ellie. You’re the only
one who can. It’s your problem.” The words began to echo in her
head.

As they reached the front of the Lachey
house, Jacey stopped dead in her tracks. “Okay, that’s not
right.”

“What?” Ellie asked, clearly missing
something.

“Look at the side of the house. Stan’s
window is open. Stan never opens his window. Ryan said he kept it
closed even during the heat wave last August.” She took a few steps
up the driveway to examine the second story window
further.

“Why?” Ellie asked. “I get why he
wouldn’t want it open while it’s freezing outside, but what’s wrong
with having it open in the summer?”

Jacey took a sip of her now chilled
drink. “Don’t take this the wrong way El, but Stan thinks the
bogeyman lives in your grandmother’s backyard.”

“There’s no such thing as a bogeyman,
Jacey.”

“Maybe not. But there is a darkness
over his house,” Jacey said solemnly. “I’m sure of
that.”

“What do you mean? What darkness?”
Ellie asked. The wind had really picked up, but it wasn’t as if the
area was experiencing any power failures. She could see the
Lachey’s kitchen light shining through the window.

Jacey slowly moved her head from side
to side. “Can’t put my finger on it,” she sighed. I get these crazy
ideas in my head and then they disappear.”

“Then it’s probably nothing,” Ellie
reasoned.

“Erm… maybe we should go get your mom
and your grandmother, just to be safe,” Jacey hesitated. “To be
honest, I’m a little afraid of the non-existent bogeyman
myself.”

“Are you crazy? Why would we want to
involve the Helens?”

“Re-enforcements?”

“Let’s not,” Jacey insisted. “You
weren’t there this morning when they freaked over the mere mention
of a vampire. Bogeyman is not going to go over any better, trust
me. Do you know what we’re supposed to do with all these things we
collected?”

“No.” Jacey shrugged. “My clock radio
went off and I woke up.”

Ellie wanted to slap Jacey.

“Great,” Ellie sighed. “Maybe we’ll be
really lucky and we’ll get in the house and find Stan and Tom are
playing Texas hold ‘em with your priest and the nuns. Sister
Michaelangeline included. Maybe they’re our re-enforcements and
maybe they’ll know what to do with all this crap.”

Jacey opened the side door to the
Lachey house. “Tom? Stan?” she called, and waited for an
answer.

“That’s weird,” Ellie said, when no one
replied.

“Oh, I so have the creeps,” Jacey
remarked, as they kicked their boots off and went up the landing
into the kitchen. “It is way too quiet in this house.”

Jacey motioned for Ellie to follow her
through the empty living room and up the stairs to the bedroom
areas. “Maybe Betty got home early and they’ve gone for all-you
can-eat pancakes.”

“It’s a little late in the day for
that,” Ellie reminded her, as they briefly peeked inside Betty and
Ryan’s rooms.

“Geez, he’s got a lot of trophies,”
Ellie noted.

“Half of them are for piano,” Jacey
smiled. “Betcha wouldn’t have guessed that in a million
years.”

“He told me he played guitar,” Ellie
said softly.

“He plays both,” Jacey sighed,
wondering if he’d ever get to play either again.

The girls turned into Stan’s room next
and found Tom lying unconscious on the floor.

“Oh my God,” Jacey gasped, running over
to him. She wanted to pick his limp body up and hold him in her
arms, but she was afraid to move him.

“Did he faint again?” Ellie asked. “He
passed out the other night on my Nan’s porch.”

“No. He’s been totally rag-dolled,”
Jacey said in disbelief. “Look at the welt on the side of his
face.” She brushed the blond hair from the side of his face to see
if he was bleeding. She couldn’t see any open wounds. “My poor,
perfect, Tommy.”

“Is he breathing?” Ellie
asked.

Jacey nodded. “He’s just out
cold.”

“He’s probably got a concussion. Stay
here with him,” Ellie said. “Call 911. Don’t move him, just in
case.”

“Where are you going?” Jacey
yelled.

“I have to find Stan.”

Jacey pulled her phone from her pocket
and began to dial. “Directory assistance, please.”

“Jacey,” Ellie said in frustration.
“You don’t need them to dial 9-1-1.”

Jacey ignored her.

“Fine,” Ellie said, “I don’t have time
to argue with you.” She began to frantically move through the
unfamiliar territory of the Lachey home, searching the rest of the
rooms upstairs then running down to the basement to check it out as
well. There was no one down there.

“Stan!” she yelled. “Where the hell are
you?”

She ran back upstairs, pulled on her
boots and ran outside to the garage.

“Kid,” she pleaded, “I’ve counted to
one hundred. It’s time to come out now, I give up.”

Off in the distance, she could hear the
church bells of St. Mary’s begin to chime. Mass was over, and while
she supposed they could have been tolling for an afternoon funeral,
in her heart she knew they weren’t. The notes were unmistakably for
her, F-G-A-F, F-G-A-F, A-B-C, A-B-C.

“Frère Jacques,” Ellie gasped. “The
bastard’s got him.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

“Stop. Right. There,” Helen demanded,
raising her left palm. The woman coming down the stairs sort of
looked like her mother, but one never could tell. It wouldn’t be
the first time an entity had tried to take over a human body. It
was the subtle signs that gave them away.

“Now what?” Helena asked.

“You’re wearing a
turtleneck.”

“So?”

“So…you don’t do turtlenecks. You do
French bodices, but you don’t do Irish wool.” Helen walked around
her mother, eyeing her up and down. Her mother had put on a few
pounds since the last time she had seen her. It was nothing an
acquaintance would notice, but to the eagle eye of a daughter,
about ten pounds, give or take.

“Don’t read too much into that, Helen.
It’s cold outside, that’s all,” Helena replied, squirming in her
jeans that were a size too small. “Stop that twirling around me.
You’re making me dizzy.”

“And…”

“And I think my thong is stuck up my
butt crack.”

“That’s better,” Helen smiled, and gave
her mother a hug. “You had me worried there for a second. I just
wanted to make sure you were still in that body I know so well. The
one that gave birth to me.”

“This body is getting harder to
maintain, let me tell you. If my ass get’s any bigger I’ll be able
to rent it out for advertising.” Helena pulled her sweater out from
beneath the waistline of her pants, loosening the fit. “Damn dryer.
It shrinks everything.”

“Uh-huh,” Helen smiled.

“What do you feel like doing?” Helena
asked. “We have the house to ourselves. I could hook up the Karaoke
machine.” She raised her fist near her mouth, like a microphone and
threatened to sing. “That’ll kill a few hours. We could start with
KC and the Sunshine Band… ‘shake, shake, shake’…”

“Or not. Maybe we should start cleaning
up the porch?” Helen offered. She was already dressed in her winter
coat and boots in preparation for the task. “It’s probably time to
take the Halloween decorations down,” she noted, looking out the
window. The wind had already made a mess of the cotton
cob-webs.

“I guess so,” Helena sighed. “I hate
the taking them down part. It’s the same at Christmas, only at
least at Christmas they get to stay up longer. Sometimes I wonder
why I put so much effort into Halloween.” She took her own jacket
from the closet and slipped it on. “Remind me to call Forest Lawn
tomorrow. I need to find out when Mr. Wagner’s funeral is. I think
I’ll have a little party back here after the service.”

“A party?”

“Well, you know what I mean. A
gathering. With food. And alcohol.”

“So, a party…”

“Pretty much,” Helena agreed. “I doubt
anyone else is doing anything for him. He was a bit of a loner.”
She paused. “Helen, when I die, make sure there’s plenty of wine,
okay? Spring for the good stuff. I’ll leave you the
money.”

“You’re never going to die, Mother.
You’ll annoy me forever.”

“I can still do that after I’m dead,
but I’d rather do it now,” she smiled. “And I don’t want any
lilies. Lilies make me sneeze. Even when I’m dead, they’ll make me
sneeze. I just know it.”

“A wake would be a nice gesture,” Helen
agreed. “For Mr. Wagner,” she clarified. “I’m sure you were a good
friend to him.”

“Well, he was a good friend to me,”
Helena assured her.

“How good a friend?”

“Helen!”

“I’m just teasing. I think. What
religion was he? Do we have to do anything special?”

“I don’t know,” Helena admitted. “We
never talked about that. He liked cheese and lettuce sandwiches, so
I guess that’s what I’ll serve.”

“That sounds pretty easy,” Helen
agreed. Although she was sure she would have to lay out a much
bigger spread when Helena did eventually kick the bucket. “Have you
heard from Dad lately?” she asked. “Dad likes cheese and lettuce
sandwiches.”

Helena opened the front door and
motioned for Helen to go through. “Define lately.”

“This decade,” Helen answered, putting
her gloves on as she walked outside. The snow was not looking like
it was going to let up any time soon. “Maybe this isn’t such a good
idea. Maybe this can wait until tomorrow. Your new door is going to
wait until tomorrow, let me tell you.”

“The snow might make it easier for us
to slide the swing to the other side of the porch. It’s a bit
heavy,” Helena speculated. She grasped the frame with both hands
and tried to give it a shove. “I can’t budge it. I’m going to need
your help with this.”

Helen went around to the other side of
the swing and tried to give it a push. It moved, but only a few
inches. “It’s stuck on something,” she said, pointing towards the
base. “So, how is he?”

Helena glanced at the wooden
floorboard. Kevin Clark’s ghost sheet costume had gotten knotted up
behind the swing and was preventing it from sliding freely. He had
taken it off while Roy was investigating the death of Mr. Wagner.
She tugged at it until it came loose. “It’s definitely time to
clean this porch, poor thing,” she sighed, touching the fabric
softly. “I heard from your father a while back, Helen. Alexander’s
the same as he always is.”