Pretty Little Devils Part 14

"Are you alone in the house?" The voice was disguised, midway between a growl and a hoa.r.s.e whisper.

"Hey, guys," she said merrily. "Guess what!"

"Because I'm in the study, waiting for you."

"Ha ha! Wrong!" she said triumphantly. "I checked the locks, inside and out. You are so lying!"

"But I'm dead. I'm a ghost. I'm incorporeal."

"No, you're Katie and Chrissie Darling," Hazel said, laughing. "Matty came by. Thank you for sending him over."

"You let him in the house?"

"d.a.m.n straight," she said proudly.

"Without a chaperone? You are a bad babysitter!"

"The evilest," she confirmed.

"You will pay!"

"No, I will get paid." She carried the phone into the kitchen, remembering then that she had left dishes in Charlie's room. She would have to clean them up before Mr. Pollins got home.

"No. You will get laid," the voice said. Then a crescendo of evil laughter preceded the dial tone.

Hazel giggled, appreciative of the prank. In their own twisted way, it meant the PLDs cared.

Then she tiptoed into Charlie's room, got the dirty dishes, and carried everything into the kitchen. She was drying the last of the three gla.s.ses when the landline rang. She grabbed the receiver off the wall unit and put it to her ear.

"Pollins residence."

"Someone should warn you." Another disguised voice. Deeper this time.

"Wow. You guys must be bored. I know. I suck. I'm a bad babysitter." She put the gla.s.ses on the shelf, closed the cabinet door, and hung the dish towel back on the hook beside the door to the pantry.

"You think I'm one of your friends? News flash. They're not your friends."

The caller snickered. The sound was rough-mean. It rendered Hazel speechless.

"They would turn on you in a second if it came down to you or one of them. You should watch your back. Popular girls are only out for themselves. If they're ever threatened, they'll throw you to the wolves."

"Who is this?" she said, shaken.

The dial tone buzzed in her ear.

She hung up the phone and replayed the voice in her mind. Who did it sound like? She felt certain that she recognized it somehow.

The landline rang.

Don't answer it, Hazel told herself. But Mr. Pollins had instructed her to.

"Pollins residence."

"Time for some homework?" the growling voice asked. "How about this: if a horse bleeds to death at a gallon a minute and a cat bleeds to death at a cup at a minute, which animal suffers more?"

Hazel's stomach clenched. Hard. "Hey, whoever? You're sick, and this isn't funny."

"I should know the answer. I killed them both. And I need more. I'm right outside the door. Guess who's going to be next?"

Hazel slammed down the phone.

It rang again. She stared at it.

She backed away, hunched over, with her arms wrapped around her body. This was beyond a prank. This was extreme.

But...it had to be the PLDs. Didn't it?

What if it isn't? a voice inside her asked. What if it's the psycho who killed Jilly's horse?

Hazel hurried down the hall to check on Charlie. He was asleep, snoring softly.

The cordless in the hall blared, and a loud banging shook the front door. Hazel jumped and let out a small shriek.

She put the cordless to her ear. The voice on the other end hissed, "Charlie's sleeping, nice and peaceful. I'm right outside. What are you going to do?"

Hazel's heart thundered as she crept toward the door. The bra.s.s k.n.o.b rattled violently. Had she locked it? Yes, after Matty left. But would the bolt hold?

There was only one thing to do. She had to call the police. If she could just sneak a peek at whoever was outside first...

She took a ragged breath and moved slowly, cautiously toward the peephole.

Oh, please, please let it be a joke....

The caller's words rang in her ear. Guess who's going to be next?

Hazel put her hand on the k.n.o.b.

The door burst open-and she screamed!

CHAPTER SEVEN.

Hazel leapt out of the way as the front door slammed against the wall.

"G.o.d! Oh G.o.d, Hazel! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Charlie's father lurched forward to grab the door, holding out a rea.s.suring hand. "It's just me, kiddo. My key was stuck in the lock for a minute. Just me. Don't be scared."

Hazel panted, struggling to catch her breath. She switched off the cordless and held it in both hands.

"Are you all right?"

She cleared her throat and tried to smile, having no idea if she actually managed it. She wondered how much she should tell him.

"There was a wrong number. I think it was kids pranking. But they were really trying to scare me-"

"Oh. Well, we can't have that. I'll try redialing and seeing if I can find out who they were. I'm sorry about that, Hazel. What did they say?"

She hesitated, and in that s.p.a.ce, he asked, "How's Charlie?"

"He had a pretty good night. He's asleep now."

Mr. Pollins sighed. His shoulders slumped. "He's still awfully overwhelmed."

Hazel figured Mr. Pollins was pretty overwhelmed too. He looked tired. Bags formed under his bloodshot eyes. He yawned.

"These past few nights I've had to work late and I'm not as young as I used to be." He glanced over at her. "Did Charlie talk about Isotope?"

She nodded. He looked at her very sadly. "I don't know if I should tell him this or not, but I found Isotope."

Hazel's heart thudded. "Oh. No."

"He'd been dead a couple of days. I think he ate something. Snail bait, maybe. I put him in the trash. Don't tell Charlie. I need to do it myself."

"Snail bait?" she asked. "You mean he was poisoned. Not...injured?"

"Not a scratch. I can only hope he didn't suffer." He reached for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

Hazel was grateful that Mr. Pollins had insisted on walking her to her car. She set her cell phone in the cup holder between the two front seats. Then she slid in and started the engine.

"Thanks again." Mr. Pollins gave her a wave and went back into the house.

As Hazel pulled away from the curb, her phone lit up. She grabbed it out of the cup holder.

It was a text message.

YRSECRETPAL2PURPLEHAZE: Here, kitty kitty!

"You guys," she said, her voice wavering.

PERSONAL BLOG.

HAPPY2BME.

HAZEL THINKS HER FRIENDS ARE SWEET? SHE'LL LEARN. THEY'RE SWEET AS SNAIL BAIT. OR SWEET AS HORSE MEAT.

I TRIED TO WARN HER. I'M RIGHT UNDER HER NOSE AND SHE DOESN'T EVEN SEE ME. IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF SHE GETS HURT. AND SOMEONE IS GOING TO HURT...VERY SOON.

THE FEELING IS BUILDING AGAIN. SO QUICKLY.

NO ONE AND NOTHING CAN STOP IT.

Ms. Carpentier was not at all pleased.

It wasn't a good way to start a school week.

"Your grades in this cla.s.s have taken a real tumble," the teacher scolded. She clasped her hands and leaned forward-probably something she'd learned in a seminar on how to relate to her students.

Hazel stood in front of her desk with her backpack on. Breona slouched beside her.

"Both of you are falling behind. Now, whatever is wrong between you, I want you to sort it out or go see the school counselor."

"Like couples therapy? Hate to break it to you, Ms. C., but I don't swing that way," Breona said, snickering. The sound was raspy, familiar. Hazel wondered: had she heard it before?

"Breona..." Ms. Carpentier rolled her eyes.

"Fine." Breona took a breath and turned to Hazel. "I'm sorry I called you a b.i.t.c.h and accused you of stealing a carnation that the cheerleaders bought-for the football team only."

"Apology accepted," Hazel muttered.

"So." Ms. Carpentier leaned back in her chair. A self-satisfied grin curled the corners of her mouth. "Are we all settled?"

Hazel nodded.

"Good. Then get to cla.s.s."

Hazel turned and hurried away. Only two minutes to get to next period!

She jogged through the halls, thinking.

Breona's weird laugh. That raspy snicker. Could Breona have made the calls to the Pollins house?

A month ago, Hazel wouldn't have thought it possible. Then again, she would never have thought Breona would have a meltdown over a carnation, either.

But it wasn't just a carnation. It was Matty's carnation.