Authors: Betty Ren Wright

The Pike River Phantom (14 page)

“I rode in the parade,” she said in a clear young voice. “Everybody cheered.” She smiled contentedly before walking on toward the house.

“What's she going to do now?” Charlie didn't want to look, but he couldn't turn away. His father jumped up and then stopped as if he, too, were frozen by the girl's obvious intent. When she reached the porch, the heavy door burst open in fiery welcome, and Katya vanished inside.

There was nothing to say, nothing to do but leave. John helped Rachel to her feet. “Time to go, troops,” he said in a strained voice. “You okay, Rachel?”

Rachel nodded silently, her eyes wet with tears.

“Charlie?”

“I'm okay.” He followed his father across the yard, thinking of that slim, brown-clad figure walking into the fire.

As they climbed into the car, the rain began at last. Rachel leaned back and touched her sooty face. “I feel as if I've been to the moon and back,” she murmured. “I feel unreal.”

John backed the car and plunged into the lane without stopping for any last looks backward. “Gotta get our queen to her subjects,” he said. “Gotta get Pike River's newest guitar player to the contest.” He was trying to sound unconcerned, but his voice shook. His face was drawn under its layer of soot.

Charlie listened in disbelief. They'd just been through the strangest, most terrifying experience of their lives, and his father was already thinking about what was going to happen next. “You can't be in the contest,” he said. “How can you play the guitar with a sore arm?”

John Hocking laughed. “Very tenderly,” he retorted. “Don't be such a pessimist, Charlie. We've made it this far, and we'll manage what's ahead. One thing, though. I think we should agree to keep quiet aboutâabout all this. What happenedâit's over now. The ghost got what she wanted, and now she's gone and so is the house. I can't see any reason to get the town into an uproar when we can't prove a thing. Of course, if anybody else noticed it wasn't Rachel in the parade â¦” He frowned. “We'll see. I'd rather keep the whole business to ourselves. What do you say, Charlie?”

“Right,” Charlie agreed. He wished his knees would stop shaking.

“Rachel?”

Rachel rammed the sunbonnet on her head and peered out at them. “Right,” she said. “But I really do feel weird.”

EPILOGUE

Charlie wanted to walk. He promised his family he'd meet them at the softball diamond at nine to see the fireworks, and then he took off into the dark, enjoying deep breaths of rain-washed air.

It had been a pretty good day, considering the way it had begun. Rachel had stepped with typical Rachel determination into her role as Sunbonnet Queen. After a fast stop at home to clean upâRachel showered, John washed at the kitchen sink, and Charlie brushed spot remover on the white collar and cuffs of the queen's costumeâthey'd arrived at the park just as Grandma Lou was bustling around the log-cabin float. She'd apparently been asking people if they'd seen her granddaughter, and she was starting to panic. Rachel had climbed quickly to the cabin door and posed there, so Grandma could see how the queen had looked during the parade. Her smile was forced, her expression glazed, but she waved at the people milling around the float and even blew a kiss. Charlie marveled. When they'd reached the park, Rachel had told him she felt as if she were going to throw up.

From twelve until two Charlie had helped Grandma and Grandpa at the hotdog stand. That had been fun, but as soon as the crowd began to thin out, he had slipped away to look for his father. It had seemed important to know where everyone was.

He found his father, pale but cheerful, watching Rachel award balloons to the winners of the three-legged race. John admitted his shoulder was too sore to play his guitar in the contest, but he'd volunteered to act as master of ceremonies and be one of the judges. Charlie walked with him to the bandstand.

As he sat in the audience and listened to his father's patter, Charlie felt as if he were discovering something important. The only reason his father had believed the truth about Katya Torinâ
the only reason he'd been there in time to save Rachel's life
âwas because he was a special kind of person. Childlike. Trusting. Ready to believe the unbelievable. Another grown-upâeven Grandpa Willâwould have doubted, wanted proof, until it was too late.

“Hey there, kid. Mind some company?”

Charlie came back to the present with a start. His father was ambling toward him, whistling “Dinah” as he cut across the grass. He'd bought a new straw hat from a peddler to replace the one he'd lost in the fire, and he looked as jaunty as ever.

“Kind of nice, walking in the dark,” he commented as he fell in step next to Charlie. “You know, when I was a kid growing up in this town, I thought it was the dullest place in the world. Now I'm glad to be back. On a night like this anything seems possible.”

Charlie sighed. All afternoon he'd felt his dream of life in California slipping away. Thoughts of Jake Fisher's swimming class had flickered through his mind. He imagined himself playing a trumpet, or a trombone, and marching with the Pike River Middle School band. He had even wondered what it would be like to go cross-country skiing with his father during a long Wisconsin winter.

On a night like this anything seems possible
.

There was a sharp
crack
, and a shower of silver and red burst across the sky.

“Hey, how about that!” John exclaimed. “A whole fleet of unidentified flying objects!”

“It's just the fireworks starting,” Charlie said automatically. Then he decided he liked his father's idea better.

All rights reserved, including without limitation the right to reproduce this ebook or any portion thereof in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, events, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover design by Connie Gabbert

ISBN: 978-1-5040-1335-2

Holiday House

425 Madison Avenue

New York, NY 10017

www.holidayhouse.com