Baby-sitters Beware Part 15

Mary Anne tried. I tried again. We all tried together.

The door didn't budge.

"The windows," said Mary Anne. We made a mad dash for the big windows. But security locks were built into the latches, the kind that have to be opened with a key. Of course there was no key around anywhere, not on the shelves, not in the desk.

"The phone," I said. "We can use the phone to call someone to come let us out." I grabbed the receiver.

But the phone had been disconnected. I guess since Karl Tate wasn't in business anymore, he didn't need it.

Mary Anne went back to the door and tried again to open it. But it was no use.

We were trapped.

Chapter 19.

Claudia.

"The phone is still dead," I said, putting down the receiver. "Way, way dead."

"Could you put it some other way, Claud? Please?" asked Stacey, glancing nervously at the broken ski poles that were leaning in the corner. (Kristy had insisted we bring them in and use gloves to touch them "in case there were fingerprints.") The blizzard had reached full roar - literally - outside. The wind was howling, driving the snow almost parallel to the ground, at blinding speed.

And it was getting later and darker by the minute.

"Are the doors and windows all locked?" I asked. "Tell me they are."

"If they're not, they will be," said Kristy. "Let's go."

"We can't split up!" I practically shrieked. "That's what happens in horror movies, so the people can be picked off one by one."

Everyone looked at me. Then Abby said, "We can split up into teams and each take one side of the house."

We walked around the house. Some of the windows had locks. Some didn't. Abby and Kristy went outside and closed the shutters on the ones that didn't. Which of course made it even darker inside.

And we were too late anyway.

We'd just settled in by the fire when Stacey came back from the bathroom with a funny expression on her face. "Kristy," she said. "Could you come here a minute?"

A moment later, I heard Kristy exclaim, "Oh, no! Stacey . . ."

Stacey's insulin was missing. It had been taken right out of the little case in the inside pocket of her suitcase.

"Ohmigosh, Stacey!" I exclaimed.

"Don't worry," she said quickly. "I always carry a spare case in my backpack. But someone had to come in and take it out. I've looked everywhere."

I sat down heavily on the bed.

And saw the feathers.

I leaped up with a little gasp.

I don't know what I thought. Maybe that someone had killed a small animal on my bed.

It wasn't that. But it was just as creepy.

My pillow had been slit open, end to end. Its insides were spilling out across my bed. Claudia's red nail polish had been emptied on top. It was still sticky.

I put my hand over my mouth. I felt sick with fear. Someone had been here, in this room, maybe even while we were sitting in the next room by the fire.

The stalker had found us at Shadow Lake. And he was getting doser.

Dangerously close.

Okay. It was me. I insisted that we search the house to make sure the "maniac" wasn't inside. We checked out every possible inch. Subtly. So that Sam and Charlie kept playing checkers without noticing.

Kristy said, "That's it. No one under the sink or behind the garbage can. Unless there's a secret door - "

The knock made us jump.

It was Woodie, covered to his eyebrows with snow.

"How did you get here?" demanded Kristy suspiciously.

Woodie pointed to his showshoes. "I found a little extra wood in my bas.e.m.e.nt, so I thought I'd bring some over."

Kristy looked ashamed.

Charlie said, "Thanks. It doesn't look as though Watson and Mom are going to make it back from town anytime soon. Maybe not before tomorrow."

"You might want to head up to the lodge," said Woodie. "Before it gets worse."

The words sounded innocent enough, but they made me shudder inwardly. How much worse could it be?

"Not yet," said Charlie, glancing from Sam to Kristy and then back at Woodie. "We want to stay here in case they do try to make it back. You want to come in and warm up?"

"Thanks, but I need to head back to my own cabin," said Woodie. "I left the fire burning. Wouldn't want the whole place to burn down." He shook his head. "That's a little too warm for me."

He turned to leave. We stepped back inside. But as I was closing the door, something made me stop. I frowned. From the back, Woodie looked familiar. Very, very familiar. In a chilling kind of way.

Then I remembered Stacey's words: "Mary Anne said something about Karl Tate before the lines went dead."

Karl Tate. The petnapper.

From the back, Woodie Keenan looked just like a young Karl Tate.

I slammed the door and turned around. "Hey, guys!" I shouted.

"Open the door!" screamed Kristy.

"No! Keep it dosed!" shouted Sam. "It'll only make the fire worse!"

That's when I realized the cabin was filled with smoke.

Chapter 20.

Logan.

We were locked in the old office of Karl Tate's house, which would make anybody nervous. But Mary Anne was acting worse than nervous. She was, for her, acting almost mean. No matter what I said, or what I did, she took a shot at me.

I admit, I took some shots at her, too.

Meanwhile, Shannon had tactfully moved away from us - at least, as far away as she could without leaving the room. She squatted to examine the pictures propped against the wall.

"Hey," she said. "Look. The Tate family." She held up a framed photograph of a man, a woman, and a little boy, all dressed up and smiling. "Look at her hair. It must be an old photograph."

We barely glanced at it. We were busy glaring at each other.

Shannon put the photograph down and stood up. "That's it," she said. "I've had it. Either have your fight and clear the air, or at least say what's on your mind."

"Nothing's on my mind," I said loftily.

"You can say that again," snapped Mary Anne.

"Stop it!" said Shannon.

I looked at Mary Anne. Her voice was angry, but her eyes were filling with tears. Hurt tears.

What was going on? I couldn't take it any longer.

I broke down and told Shannon about the notes.

Mary Anne laughed!

That made me see red. I glared at her and she took a quick step back. "Oh, Logan," she said. "I'm not laughing about the notes. I didn't send them to you. I'm laughing because someone's been sending me notes, too. And they looked like they were in your handwriting!"

Well, it didn't take long after that to sort things out, and realize that she and I had both been the victims of some kind of nasty prank. Mary Anne thought it was c.o.kie's doing. I wasn't so sure.

But it didn't matter anyway. What mattered was that we weren't having a stupid fight over a stupid misunderstanding. Completely forgetting about Shannon, I leaned over and kissed Mary Anne.

Shannon said, "This is great and all, but in case you two have forgotten, we are still locked in the Tates' house."

I straightened up quickly and Mary Anne blushed a deep crimson.

''Well, since we're here," I said, "we might as well keep investigating."

We went over the room (after checking the door one more time), looking in drawers and on shelves. But nothing very interesting turned up until I started going through the wastepaper basket. I grabbed a handful of papers out of it and spread them on the desk. Mary Anne s.n.a.t.c.hed one up. "Shadow Lake," she said. "This is the area code and phone number for Kristy's cabin at Shadow Lake. The one I just called!"

"That's not all," I said. I held up another piece of paper, a photocopy of an article from the Stoneybrook News.

It was the picture of the BSC after they'd helped to capture Karl Tate. A big, black X had been drawn viciously across it, so hard that the paper had torn.

"It is him," said Mary Anne in a shaky voice. "Oh, Logan."

"Shhh," said Shannon. "Do you hear that?" ' We heard.

A car was pulling into the driveway.

Chapter 21.

Abby.

It wasn't a fire drill. It was real. At least, the smoke was. The fire, fortunately, stayed in the fireplace. The smoke didn't. It poured out of the chimney in big, black, oily clouds. I had to dash out onto the porch to breathe, and take a hit on my inhaler. Fortunately, it didn't trigger a full scale asthma attack, just my standard allergic reaction to Life. Woodie had heard the commotion and come running back up the trail to help.

I was sneezing and wheezing (a little) when Stacey and Claudia and Kristy came reeling outside, throwing the door open. Smoke billowed out behind them and was immediately blown away by the gale.

Kristy had to raise her voice (which tells you just how loudly the wind was blowing) to be heard.

"Someone blocked the chimney," she said. "We've put out the fire, but we're not going to be able to start a new one. With no electricity, that means no heat."

"The lodge?" I suggested.

"The lodge," Kristy agreed. "We'll pack up just what we need for the night and go as soon as there's a break in the storm."

Claudia said, in an urgent undertone, "Re- member what Mary Anne said to you, Stacey? Karl Tate?"

Stacey nodded.

"Well, right before the smoke started, I thought I saw him."

Stacey and Kristy looked startled. Then Kristy said, "He's in jail, Claudia. Whoever's after us, it's not him."