The Dark: A Collection (Point Horror) Read online

  "Look who's talking!" Rick tweaked Harry's nose as Harry tried to break loose from Rick's friends. "You and Mike must be in cahoots. You murdered the maid and let Bianca and the baby go. You figured the Shipleys would give her money. Your brother went for the kid when he broke out of jail."

  "Sounds like a confession to me, Roscoe," Harry snapped. "You and your friends were over at the Shipleys two years ago looking for something to steal. Bianca and Mrs. Ingersoll got in the way. Now you're leaning on Bianca 'cause she's almost eighteen and ready to come into all that cold cash."

  The guys held him while Rick socked Harry again.

  "No!" Bianca shrieked. She couldn't get away. Marianna wouldn't let her.

  "It's time for our chicken roast," Rick announced.

  The toughs stripped Harry's shirt off. They rubbed him down with oil and grease. Then they dumped chicken feathers from their pockets all over him.

  "Stop it, Rick!" Bianca screamed.

  "That's all up to you." Rick lighted a cigarette. He held it until the hot, orange ashes appeared. He held it over Harry's chest. "Will you forget about Harry and share that dough with me?"

  "Rick, you're not going to do it, are you?" Bianca was horrified.

  "Don't let him bully you, Bianca!" Harry called. "Don't agree to anything he says no matter what!"

  Rick ground the cigarette into the middle of Harry's chest to put it out. Harry winced.

  Rick lighted another cigarette. "I've got plenty more where this cigarette comes from." He glared at Bianca. There was a maliciousness in his eyes that she'd never suspected when he'd picked her up for their date.

  "Marianna says you were tattletaling to Harry about creeps stalking around in the dark two years ago near the Shipleys' house. Well, I don't want you telling the police that you remember anything about me! Is that clear?" Rick stared Bianca down.

  Bianca eyed Marianna. She could picture the girl putting up her CLOSED sign at the concessions counter just so she could listen to everything that she and Harry said in the employees' lounge.

  Rick snuffed out another cigarette against Harry's chest. Harry grimaced. He didn't cry out, though his chest was getting scarred with red marks.

  "I don't understand anything that anybody's talking about," Bianca cried. "But I'll promise anything you want. Just stop this craziness!"

  "That's not very convincing, Ricky," Marianna sighed. "Bianca needs a lesson that she'll never forget."

  Marianna started tugging Bianca toward the freshly dug grave that she'd stumbled upon before. Bianca hadn't realized that they were still so close to it. Marianna shoved her closer to the edge.

  "Bianca's scared of the dark, isn't she?" Marianna teased. "This ought to teach her!"

  "No!" Bianca clutched Little Katie. Dark hands reached out of the grave to drag her down. Her head spun around.

  "Let her go, you bitch!" Harry gave a sudden lurch and broke free of the two toughs who were holding him.

  Rick lunged at Harry and socked him. Harry hit him back. The two toughs joined in the fray.

  Marianna took advantage of the moment while Bianca was distracted by the fist fight. She slapped Bianca across the face, forcing her backward toward the yawning black pit.

  "Look who's chicken now!" Marianna cried. "Maybe you'll learn not to tell any more stories about my Ricky."

  Bianca couldn't put up her own hands to defend herself, or she'd have to drop Little Katie. She dared not shield herself with the child's body. Just as she was on the brink of the pit, a vivid memory flashed through her head:

  The killer was near the stairs instead of an open grave. I was holding Little Katie, trying to defend myself. His hands were strong like Marianna's. . . His hands felt like Marianna's. . . The killer's eyes looked like hers. It was pitch black in the house that night. I saw them glowing. . .

  "C'mon, let's move it!" Marianna hissed. "The grave is waiting."

  Just before I ran down the stairs and tripped over Mrs. Ingersoll's body, I heard the killer's voice. The hiss was low, though I can't remember what he said. It sounded like Marianna's hiss. . .

  Bianca screamed and screamed and screamed.

  Marianna's hand fell away from Bianca's cheek. She lost her footing. It was she — not Bianca — who fell into the grave with a bloodcurdling screech.

  "What happened?" Rick raced over to the grave. He gaped down into the black pit, unable to believe his eyes. Marianna's body was lying motionless.

  "What have you done!" Rick turned on Bianca.

  "Marianna just . . . fell." Bianca clutched the child to her.

  Rick gaped at Bianca tongue-tied. He couldn't believe what had happened to his ex-girlfriend, his partner in their plan to extort all the money they could out of Bianca.

  Rick and the toughs jumped down into the grave to drag Marianna out. Bianca, holding Little Katie, ran into Harry's arms. She was helping him take off the chicken feathers and put his shirt back on when Rick and the toughs surfaced with Marianna.

  They laid Marianna flat down on the ground. She still wasn't moving. Her leg was resting at an odd angle. There was a red bump on her head.

  "Marianna!" Rick shook her by the shoulders. "Jesus! Talk to me!" He slapped her on the cheek.

  Bianca took one of the chicken feathers that they'd stuck on Harry. She approached Marianna's silent form that Rick was shaking so hard. She stooped down and put the feather under Marianna's nose. It was hard to tell for sure. It didn't look as if the feather was moving much.

  "Marianna's dead!" Rick hollered. "You murdered her!" Rick looked at Bianca in amazement. He couldn't believe that Bianca, the coward who was scared of the dark, had it in her to kill someone.

  "She kept on slapping me in the face, backing me up toward the grave. Then she lost her balance and fell. It was an accident," Bianca insisted.

  "Jesus! We've got to get her to a doctor." Rick picked up Marianna. The bully looked helpless. His eyes were big and round with fear. His face was pale in the moonlight. He looked as if he might cry.

  "My house!" Bianca tried to pull herself together. "It's right beyond the fence. Doc said my parents and the Shipleys are there. There are sure to be police, lots of them. They can take Marianna to the hospital."

  It was hard for Bianca to feel anything for Marianna after what she'd almost done. She'd almost killed her and Little Katie. It could have been them lying in the black ditch.

  "This way!" Harry pointed in the direction of the back fence to the cemetery. He could hardly walk. Bianca had to support him against her shoulder.

  "Now wait a minute!" Rick looked anxiously from Harry to Bianca and back again. "This isn't a trap, is it? You're not going to pin what happened to Marianna on me. You're just as guilty as I am!"

  "I don't think the police are going to see it that way," Harry scoffed. "You'll have to take your chances, I guess, Roscoe."

  "Nobody's going to believe a lowlife like you!" Rick pointed at Harry.

  Bianca guessed that was true, sadly enough. Especially after what his brother had done, everyone would think Harry was guilty. She could picture them bursting into her parents' living room with conflicting stories. Rick might be a creep, but no one would know it, even if he'd been secretly aiding Mike. Harry would be the one to go to jail.

  They found a break in the fence through which Rick could carry Marianna and Bianca could drag Harry. All the way back to her parents' house, Rick sniped at Harry. Rick never stopped telling him in excruciating detail what he was going to do to him if he ratted on him and his buddies.

  Rick whispered in Bianca's ear about how she had better watch out. If Bianca said anything against him, Rick was going to inform the authorities that he'd seen Bianca fighting with Marianna. He was going to let them know that Bianca had pushed her opponent to her death. He was also going to tell them lots of other things, such as how Bianca and Harry were a crime team. Marianna had heard them smooching it up in the theater, planning their next move. He was sure the theater manager would back him up
.

  Bianca tried not to listen to Rick for fear it would make her even sicker. She kept putting one foot in front of the other, though the darkness was closing in on all sides.

  Bianca's house was lighted up like a Christmas tree. There wasn't one window through which she didn't see people moving about. Police cars out front were parked the whole length of the block, though it wasn't quite morning. She saw the Shipleys' silver-gray Bentley parked out front in her driveway behind her parents' station wagon. There was an ambulance with its lights flashing and two fire trucks. A news truck with live-cam reporting was pulled up across the street. Anything to do with the Shipleys was big news. They were the richest family on the island.

  "Remember what I told you, Fellini!" Rick growled as they were about to reach the yard.

  "Let's go around the back," Bianca said when she saw that the front door was guarded by two policemen.

  Harry clutched Bianca around the waist and gave Rick a dirty scowl. The last thing Harry said to her was, "Chin up!"

  There was mass pandemonium as soon as Bianca struggled up the basement stairs and through the living-room doorway clutching a sleepy Katie, who refused to let go of her toy bear. Behind her limped Harry. Behind him stumbled Rick carrying the still form of Marianna with a bump on her head, her leg hanging at a strange angle. The two toughs that Rick had paid off to beat up Harry had mysteriously disappeared.

  Cameras flashed in Bianca's bleary, bloodshot eyes and made her wince. Her mother shrieked. Her father shouted. Mrs. Shipley came charging for Bianca with open arms, crying, "Katie! Katie darling! Your Bianca's an angel. She's found you again!" Mr. Shipley was pushing through the crowd, proclaiming to Bianca that they were so profoundly grateful.

  The medics went to work on Marianna on the sofa. They were trying to give her CPR and mouth-to-mouth.

  Reporters were thrusting mikes into Bianca's face. Police were trying to elbow the reporters aside to ask her questions. The noise was so great that no one could hear her. She mumbled to the reporters her wooden, made-up explanation for what had happened tonight.

  Bianca was trying to tell anyone who would listen that she, Harry, Rick and Marianna had been to the movies together. They'd heard about the kidnapping and had gone to look for Katie. She told them that Marianna had fallen into an open grave in the cemetery. They hadn't been able to see where they were going. She was inventing the tale as she was going along. She hoped it made sense.

  Doc burst into the living room with policemen following him. He pointed at Harry, then at Rick. "They're the same ones who were causing trouble at the movie theater tonight. They're part of Mike Fellini's gang. Mike was trying to kidnap Little Katie. Harry and the others were trying to do away with Bianca because she's starting to remember the past. I wouldn't be surprised if Harry is the murderer of Mrs. Ingersoll."

  "You don't have any proof of that!" Harry shouted, making himself heard over the crowd.

  "That one there is the worst of the lot. He's the brother of Mike Fellini. He was trying to lure Bianca into a trap," Doc persisted.

  "Liar!"

  "Ernie McCollough doesn't make unfounded accusations of such a grave nature. I have all the evidence I require. Bianca told me everything I needed to hear tonight," Doc announced.

  Bianca stood there with her mouth open looking at Doc with big, questioning eyes as the policemen handcuffed Harry and dragged him away.

  Rick shouted, "No!" as they handcuffed him. The police led him to the waiting squad car with the flashing lights — behind the medics who carried Marianna on a stretcher with a sheet pulled up to her chin.

  "You've always trusted me to do the best thing for you, Bianca, haven't you?" Doc gazed into her eyes.

  "Yes!" Bianca nodded. "I've always trusted you to do the best thing, Doc. But—"

  He raised his finger to her lips and smiled. "No buts."

  Chapter 10

  Bianca found herself a patient at Brunswick Memorial Hospital for the first time since the slaying two years ago. The Shipleys insisted that she have the best room, the one reserved for VIPs and dignitaries.

  She had her own real bed, not one of those hospital beds with cage-like bars that went up and down. She had a sitting room for visitors and a VCR. Her bathroom had a real tub, not a stripped-down shower with a thin, white curtain like the other rooms.

  Doctors were in and out, as were the policemen. Doc had told the police that Bianca's memory had started to come back. They repeatedly asked her if she'd remembered anything more about the killer.

  Reporters were banned from her room, though she could see them gathered in a group down on the street beneath her window. They waved up at her and called her by name. There was even a live TV cam.

  What was she doing here? She shouldn't be locked up because she'd been seen with Harry Fellini or because her memory had started to come back. It wasn't her fault if she'd blundered into the cemetery at midnight, and Marianna had fallen into a hole.

  "You're safer here," the police chief assured her. "Now that you've started to remember that night two years ago, the killer will be gunning for you."

  "Am I supposed to stay here until I remember everything?" Bianca asked.

  "The longer the better. We can't provide such good security for you once you leave the hospital," the police chief explained.

  When Bianca glanced out the window, she noticed that besides the reporters there were police at every corner. They were also at the entrance to the hospital, which was two floors beneath her room. The next time the nurse brought her a meal tray, Bianca saw that there was also a policeman standing outside her door!

  Doc took a leave of absence from his internship so he could be with Bianca night and day. He devoted all his time to her, as if she were his only patient. He sat in her room while she was supposed to be sleeping. He read the newspapers when he thought she wasn't looking. She caught glimpses of headlines like:

  ISLAND WAITS WITH BATED BREATH:

  BIANCA WINTERS BEGINS TO

  REMEMBER BLOODY MURDER!

  WHO DID IT? ONLY AMNESIA VICTIM KNOWS FOR SURE!

  WHODUNIT ON ST. SIMONS ISLAND AWAITS CONCLUSION

  There were other articles. Bianca would often glance at those out of the corner of her eye when Doc was turning the pages. They speculated about Harry, Rick and Marianna.

  Marianna was in a coma on life support in the same hospital. She'd suffered a massive concussion, but by some miracle she was still alive.

  The evidence against Mike Fellini for the kidnapping of Little Katie made it an open and shut case. A warrant had been put out for his arrest. He'd been apprehended the very next day hiding out in the swamps, where he'd holed up after fleeing the cemetery. He was back in jail.

  The evidence against Harry and Rick, however, was more "iffy". Rick's lawyer insisted that there was no evidence against him except hearsay. He had no criminal record. The court-appointed attorney who was handling Harry's case pointed out that Bianca had not complained about Harry's treatment that night in the cemetery. So both boys had been released while the police collected more evidence against them.

  The district attorney was another person who came in and out of Bianca's hospital room at regular intervals, hoping that she would remember something about the killer. Any detail would be appreciated, even the color of his shoes. The DA wanted to bring charges against Harry and Rick — and Marianna if she recovered — and couldn't without Bianca's evidence. Was one of these suspects the killer or not?

  When Doc had pointed the culprits out to the police, he'd been premature out of a desire to protect her, he said. He'd assumed that Bianca would have remembered everything by now. He assured her there was no hurry. You couldn't rush the mysteries of the human mind, he emphasized.

  Bianca repeated the same tale to one policeman after another, the story that she'd told Harry in the employees' lounge. She related how two years ago she'd been sitting in the living room with the mists drifting in the window, how she'd heard footsteps ups
tairs and gone up to investigate. She described in detail how she'd heard Mrs. Ingersoll scream. She'd snatched Katie up and encountered the killer at the top of the stairs. She tried to remember the details of their battle, which were fuzzy. She recalled fleeing downstairs, racing out the door screaming.

  They brought in a police artist to sketch the killer. Bianca couldn't recall the killer's face. She remembered the eyes staring back at her from the stairway. She couldn't associate a color with them, let alone a sex. The killer whispered to her in memory, but she couldn't recall the tone of voice. Was it the same voice as in the movie theater bathroom? She could never forget the strong hands, the crushing force. She'd imagined the killer as Marianna. Now Bianca couldn't be sure of anything.

  "It sounds as if you remember every detail about that night except for the killer's appearance and the sound of the killer's voice," the police chief concluded. "Very odd."

  "Usually when witnesses remember as much as you have, they remember everything," the DA agreed. He voiced his suspicions. "It's as if Bianca's protecting someone, as if she doesn't want to admit his identity, not even to herself."

  "Miss Winters, we know that you were out with Harry Fellini that night you started to remember. I saw you with him in the theater lobby," the chief warned her.

  She nodded.

  "If he's the one you're protecting, it won't do you any good to keep on hiding the truth."

  She opened her mouth to protest.

  "I hope you're not protecting that Roscoe boy either! He claims that you went to the movie with him to begin with," the chief added.

  She shook her head.

  "Don't get discouraged." Doc patted Bianca's cheek. "You're doing much better now that we've weaned you away from Harry Fellini's bad influence. You'll remember everything. I know you will."

  The police had released Harry and Rick to the custody of their parents, awaiting trial. No one would allow either into Bianca's hospital room. She'd been told by one sympathetic, romantic-minded nurse that Harry had been in the waiting room two or three times a day. He'd been turned away. His flowers had been returned.