Second Child Part 20

"Well, mannequins don't make footsteps," Tag replied. "Maybe we should go up there and see what we can find."

Melissa's eyes widened slightly. "Do you think we should?"

"Why not?" Tag asked. "I mean, it's your attic, isn't it? Did your mom tell you not to go up there?"

Melissa shook her head, and the two of them started back toward the house.

Twenty minutes later their search was over.

The mannequin still stood in the attic, but there was no sign of Blackie.

"But it still could have been a dream," Tag insisted as they went back downstairs.

"It wasn't!" Melissa insisted. "I wasn't dreaming, and I wasn't sleepwalking. I know what I saw! Besides, what about the pearls? They were around Blackie's neck!"

"Hey, take it easy," Tag protested. "I wasn't accusing you of lying. I just meant-Well, you do do walk in your sleep sometimes. Maybe-Well, maybe you took the necklace up there yourself." walk in your sleep sometimes. Maybe-Well, maybe you took the necklace up there yourself."

Melissa's eyes darkened. "I didn't! I wasn't sleepwalking, and I know what happened."

Tag backed away a step or two. "All right," he said, his voice rising in the face of Melissa's anger. "Then you tell me what happened! What did you do? Kill him yourself?"

Melissa's mouth dropped open. "I-I-"

But she could say nothing more, for suddenly she realized that what Tag had just said was exactly the same thought that had been lurking in the back of her own mind.

It had been her her necklace around Blackie's throat. necklace around Blackie's throat.

If she hadn't put it there, then who had? n.o.body else even knew where she kept it.

Was it possible that she had had been sleepwalking? been sleepwalking?

Could she have done it and not remembered?

The footsteps.

What about the footsteps?

What if she hadn't heard them at all? What if they had only been part of the dream she'd had?

Suddenly she felt as if her head were stuffed with cotton. Nothing made sense anymore-she couldn't figure out what was real and what had only happened in her own mind.

She felt as though she were going crazy. Her eyes welled with tears and a sob rose in her throat, threatening to choke her. "Y-You really think I could have killed him?" she finally asked, her voice trembling in spite of her efforts to control it.

Tag groaned. "Aw, come on. Why would I think that? I just said it because you were acting like you were mad at me. Of course you didn't kill him. Why would you have?"

"But if I didn't, where is he?" Melissa countered, her voice bleak as the tears in her eyes finally began running down her cheeks. "Where is he, Tag?" she repeated. "What if I killed him and don't even remember it?"

Without waiting for an answer, she fled into her room, slamming her door behind her.

Teri lay stretched out on a chaise longue, her eyes closed against the brilliance of the morning sun. She felt good-she'd played a set of tennis with Phyllis, which she'd managed to let Phyllis win, then beaten Ellen Stevens in straight sets. After that, she and Ellen had gone for a swim, and ever since then she'd been lying by the pool, enjoying the warmth of the sun and the babble of voices around her.

A shadow fell on her face, and she opened her eyes to see a dark silhouette looming above her. She squinted, trying to make out who it might be, and was just about to sit up when a splash of icy water hit her legs. Gasping at the shock, she jumped off the chaise, then spun around to see Brett Van Arsdale standing at the edge of the pool, grinning at her. "You looked like you might be burning, so I decided to baste you," he said.

"Oh, really?" Teri replied. "Well, how's this for a basting?" With a quick shove she pushed him into the pool, then dived in after him, hitting the water just as he broke the surface. Grabbing his shoulders, she shoved him under again and pushed away, twisting out of his grip as he reached for her. He caught up with her halfway across the pool, and she barely managed to s.n.a.t.c.h a breath of air before he pulled her below the surface. She struggled for a moment, freed herself, then shot away, finally slithering out of the pool a fraction of a second before he caught up with her. By the time he'd scrambled out of the water, she was already drying herself off with the towel one of the pool boys had brought her the minute she'd appeared on the terrace. Finished with it, she tossed it to Brett, then stretched out on the chaise again. A moment later Brett dropped down on the one next to her.

"You going to the dance next weekend?" he asked.

Teri c.o.c.ked her head. "What dance?" she asked.

"The costume party," Brett replied. "It's next Sat.u.r.day, and if you're not going with anybody..." His voice trailed off, and Teri grinned mischievously at him.

"You mean you want me to go with you?" she asked.

Brett flushed, nodding. "If you want to."

Teri was about to accept his invitation, then hesitated. What about Melissa? Would she be allowed to go if no one asked her half sister? She glanced over to the table where her stepmother was sitting talking to Brett's mother. After this morning, she suspected that Phyllis wouldn't care whether Melissa went to the dance or not.

But what about her father? In her mind she heard his words once again. "Take care of Melissa for me, okay?"

And then, once more, an idea began to take shape in her mind.

"It sounds like fun," she said, smiling at Brett. But then she let her brows form into a frown. "But-Well, what about Melissa?"

The grin that had spread across Brett's face wavered. "Melissa?" he repeated. "What about her?"

Teri's eyes shifted demurely to her lap. "Well, it would be kind of mean of me to go without her, wouldn't it? I mean, I just got here, and hardly know anyone. How would she feel if I went with you, and no one asked her?"

Brett's tongue ran nervously across his lower lip. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked. "Find a date for her, too?"

Teri looked up at him, her expression a perfect mask of surprise. "Could you?" she asked. "Could you really?"

Brett swallowed. Now what had he gotten himself into? Who did he know who would be willing to go anywhere with Melissa Holloway? "I-I don't know," he hedged.

Teri's smile faded away. "Well, then I don't see how I can go, either. I just don't think it would be right for me to leave her sitting at home by herself." Then, as if she'd just thought of it, she brightened. "What about Jeff Barnstable?"

Brett stared at her. "Jeff? What made you think of him?"

Teri hesitated, then lowered her voice. "If I tell you a secret, will you promise not to tell anyone else?" Brett nodded. "Melissa has a crush on him," Teri went on. "If you can get him to ask her, then I'll go with you."

"What if I can't?" Brett asked.

Teri shrugged. "You can," she said. "You'll find a way."

An hour later Brett found Jeff Barnstable sprawled out on a towel on the beach in front of Kent Fielding's house, a pair of earphones on his head and a magazine in his lap. Kent himself was stretched out on his stomach, apparently asleep. Dropping down on the sand next to his friend, Brett turned the volume on the Walkman all the way up, then snapped it off. Jeff jumped at the sudden blast of sound in his ear, then glared up at Brett.

"Hey, man, what the h.e.l.l'd you do that for?"

"I've gotta talk to you. I've got a problem."

"Melissa?" Jeff howled after Brett explained what he wanted him to do. "Gimme a break, man. You think I'm going to ask Melissa Holloway for a date? Do I look crazy?"

"Aw, come on," Brett replied. "What's the big deal? What about that cousin of yours I went out with last year?"

Jeff rolled his eyes. "It's not the same thing. My cousin is at least human."

"Barely," Brett shot back. "Besides, what's so terrible about Melissa? She wasn't so bad at the bonfire the other night-"

"Riiight," Jeff drawled. "Until she got all upset and went running home to her mommy. Of course," he added, his voice taking on a sly note, "if you want to make a deal..."

He let the words hang in the air. "What kind of deal?" Brett asked suspiciously.

"The Porsche. Let me drive the Porsche Sat.u.r.day night and all day Sunday, and I'll think about it."

Brett hesitated. He'd only had the car six months, and so far he hadn't let anyone else drive it at all. And then, unbidden, an image of Teri came into his mind.

She was smiling at him, and in her eyes...

"All right," he said, agreeing to the deal before Jeff had a chance to change his mind. "We'll call them this afternoon. Okay?"

Jeff, who'd been almost certain Brett would turn the deal down, hesitated. But then he saw himself behind the wheel of the black sports car, speeding along the road that wound in a series of hairpin curves along the coast. Surely he could put up with Melissa for a couple of hours, he decided. And maybe he could even figure out a way to bribe some of the other guys into taking her off his hands every now and then. "Okay," he agreed. "I'll ask her."

Kent Fielding rolled over and sat up, blinking in the sun. "And you might get lucky," he suggested, grinning at Jeff. "I mean, you could always get sick on Sat.u.r.day night, couldn't you?"

Jeff and Kent stared at each other for a moment, and then both of them burst out laughing as they imagined the look on Melissa's face if Jeff were to stand her up.

CHAPTER 16.

"It's perfect," Teri declared, her eyes reflecting her excitement as she examined the dress she'd just found on the rack at the back of the Historical Society thrift shop. "Don't you just love it?"

Melissa's brow furrowed as she tried to see the dress through Teri's eyes, but to her it looked like exactly what it was-an old prom dress, maybe from the fifties, with a princess waistline and puffed sleeves. The skirt, made of satin, had a stain on it, and its hem was partially ripped out. Over the satin was a layer of tulle that might once have appeared to float like a cloud around the dress but now hung limply, its netting badly snagged. It might once have been pink, but its color had faded badly, and was now a sort of uneven peach.

Melissa's eyes shifted from the dress to her half sister. "It's horrible," she said.

"It isn't, either," Teri protested. "Let me try it on." Without waiting for an answer, she disappeared behind a curtain that was hung across the door of a makeshift dressing room, and Melissa went back to picking through the racks of discarded clothes in search of something that might pa.s.s for a costume.

She still wasn't sure she really wanted to go to the dance on Sat.u.r.day night. In fact, when Jeff Barnstable had called on Monday afternoon, she'd been certain he was playing some kind of joke on her, and told him she'd call him back. But when she'd asked Teri about it, Teri had insisted that the invitation was real. "We're going to double date," she explained. "You and Jeff, and Brett and I."

Melissa had looked at Teri suspiciously. "Whose idea was it?"

"Well, I don't know," Teri had hedged. "We were just talking about it at the club this morning, and we all sort of decided it together."

Melissa had still hesitated, but then Phyllis came out to the terrace where they were sunning themselves. "Decided what?" she'd asked, and before Melissa could stop her, Teri had told her mother about the invitation. "Well, of course you'll go," she said. "It's just perfect for your first date."

"But I don't-"

"Not another word," Phyllis told her, and though she'd kept smiling, her voice had taken on a hard edge that warned Melissa that she would tolerate no argument. "After all, I am am on the Social Committee this year. How would it look if my own daughter didn't go? And Teri can help you find a costume. Besides," she'd added, "it will give you something to think about other than that dog." on the Social Committee this year. How would it look if my own daughter didn't go? And Teri can help you find a costume. Besides," she'd added, "it will give you something to think about other than that dog."

Melissa had said nothing, certain that whatever she might say about Blackie would only make her mother angry. Besides, what could she say? She and Tag had searched everywhere they could think of, walking through the woods, calling out to Blackie, but there had been no sign of him. And Melissa had only become more confused as they searched. If she'd really seen the dog in the attic, then why hadn't they been able to find his body?

Was it possible that the whole thing really had been a nightmare, that she had, after all, been walking in her sleep? Could she have seen the whole thing only in her mind and only awakened when she screamed?

She hadn't dared talk to anyone about it except Teri, and even Teri hadn't been able to think of an answer. "He probably just ran away," she'd said. Then she'd grinned mischievously. "Or maybe D'Arcy got him."

D'Arcy.

Melissa had been thinking about it ever since, trying to figure it out. Was it possible that D'Arcy had done something to Blackie? But how could she? D'Arcy didn't exist, except in her own mind.

Did she?

What if she did?

What if she were real?

A slight shudder ran through her, and then she jumped as a hand touched her shoulder. She spun around to see Teri, clad in the old pink formal, gazing at her curiously. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"N-Nothing," Melissa stammered.

"Well, didn't you hear me talking to you just now?" Teri said, turning around. "I can't get the stupid zipper up."

Her fingers trembling, Melissa pulled the zipper up, and Teri turned around once more. "I can fix the hem and we can put a whole lot of sequins and rhinestones on the overskirt. Then we can make a wand and I can go as a fairy G.o.dmother. It'll be perfect."

Melissa frowned, perplexed. "But what about the stains?"

"Who cares about them?" Teri asked. "It's a costume party, right? Everybody will be digging around looking for old clothes." She giggled. "I bet half the people there wind up looking like their own grandparents. Now let's see what we can find for you." She disappeared into the dressing room, coming back out a few moments later with the dress over her arm. Together they began searching through the old clothes for something that might be converted into a costume for Melissa, but every time Melissa found something, Teri had an objection: "It won't fit you right. See? We'd have to let out all the seams."

"It's falling apart! We don't want your clothes to fall off you in the middle of the dance, do we?"

"It's miles too big-we could never take it in in time."

Finally, Melissa found an old-fashioned tuxedo, complete with a top hat, that seemed to be in a boy's size. "How about this?" she asked hopefully. "I could be a magician, or Charlie Chaplin, or something." But once again Teri shook her head.

"It's just not right. right. We need something really spectacular." She glanced around the shop, looking for a corner they hadn't yet searched. But they'd been through everything. "Why don't we go get a c.o.ke?" she suggested. "Maybe if we stop hunting, we'll come up with an idea." We need something really spectacular." She glanced around the shop, looking for a corner they hadn't yet searched. But they'd been through everything. "Why don't we go get a c.o.ke?" she suggested. "Maybe if we stop hunting, we'll come up with an idea."

Melissa took a last longing look at the tuxedo. She was certain it would fit, and if they could make a cape...

"No," Teri decreed, as if she'd read Melissa's mind. "It's just not right for you. Anyway, if we can't think of anything better, we can always come back for it."

Melissa hung the tux back on the rod and followed Teri to the front of the store. She was pa.s.sing a case full of antique costume jewelry when a bright sparkle caught her eye. Lying on the top shelf of the case was an old tiara, topped with a fleur-de-lis, all of it thickly encrusted with rhinestones. "Look!" she cried out. "It's your crown!"

Teri gazed at the tiara, then shook her head. "It's perfect," she agreed. "But how much is it going to cost?"

"Mrs. Bennett?" Melissa called to the manager, who came over and went behind the cabinet to take the tiara out. "How much is it?"