Author: R. L. Stine
Date: 2008-06-30 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Speculative
Publisher: Simon Pulse

Into The Dark

R.L. STINE

Bill Schmidt

POCKET BOOKS
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020
www.SimonandSchuster.com

1997 Parachute Press, Inc.

The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”

First Archway Paperback printing October 1997

She Can’t See the Danger….

“I’ll go find a parking place,” Jonathan said.

Paulette opened the car door. Using her cane, she stepped out onto the asphalt. She heard Jonathan pull away from the curb.

Paulette began to tap her way down the gentle slope to the main walkway of the Music Academy. She heard the sounds of instruments drifting through open windows into the fall air.

Someone in one of the rooms is practicing the same Schubert piece I’m working on, she thought.

The spicy scents of leaves and fall wildflowers surrounded her. And she could smell the sharp, sweet scent of wood smoke from a fireplace.

She heard something move along the asphalt behind her. Something heavy.

“Watch out!” someone screamed.

Paulette spun in the direction of the cry. Something heavy crashed into her.

Books by R.L. Stine

Fear Street

THE NEW GIRL

THE SURPRISE PARTY

THE OVERNIGHT

MISSING

THE WRONG NUMBER

THE SLEEPWALKER

HAUNTED

HALLOWEEN PARTY

THE STEPSISTER

SKI WEEKEND

THE FIRE GAME

LIGHTS OUT

THE SECRET BEDROOM

THE KNIFE

PROM QUEEN

FIRST DATE

THE BEST FRIEND

THE CHEATER

SUNBURN

THE NEW BOY

THE DARE

BAD DREAMS

DOUBLE DATE

THE THRILL CLUB

ONE EVIL SUMMER

THE MIND READER

WRONG NUMBER 2

TRUTH OR DARE

DEAD END

FINAL GRADE

SWITCHED

COLLEGE WEEKEND

THE STEPSISTER 2

WHAT HOLLY HEARD

THE FACE

SECRET ADMIRER

THE PERFECT DATE

THE CONFESSION

THE BOY NEXT DOOR

NIGHT GAMES

RUNAWAY

KILLER’S KISS

ALL-NIGHT PARTY

THE RICH GIRL

CAT

WHO KILLED THE HOMECOMING QUEEN?

INTO THE DARK

Available from ARCHWAY Paperbacks

For orders other than by individual consumers, Pocket Books grants a discount on the purchase of 10 or more copies of single titles for special markets or premium use. For further details, please write to the Vice-President of Special Markets, Pocket Books, 1633 Broadway, New York, NY 10019-6785, 8th Floor.

For information on how individual consumers can place orders, please write to Mail Order Department, Simon & Schuster Inc., 200 Old Tappan Road, Old Tappan, NJ 07675.

The sale of this book without its cover is unauthorized. If you purchased this book without a cover, you should be aware that it was reported to the publisher as “unsold and destroyed.” Neither the author nor the publisher has received payment for the sale of this “stripped book.”

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

AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK Original

An Archway Paperback published by
POCKET BOOKS, a division of Simon & Schuster Inc.
1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

Copyright © 1997 by Parachute Press, Inc.

All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever.

For information address Pocket Books, 1230 Avenue of the Americas, New York, NY 10020

ISBN: 0-671-52966-8
eISBN: 978-1-439-11639-5

First Archway Paperback printing October 1997

10  9  8  7  6  5  4  3  2  1

FEAR STREET is a registered trademark of Parachute Press, Inc.

AN ARCHWAY PAPERBACK and colophon are registered trademarks of Simon & Schuster Inc.

Cover art by Bill Schmidt

Printed in the U.S.A.

IL 7+

Into The Dark

prologue

He liked spying on the blind girl.

She never knew when he was watching.

He watched her a lot. On her way to school, on her way home, in her yard. He enjoyed watching her.

She was pretty. Tall and slim, with long, straight brown hair. Wide green eyes. Pale, smooth skin and soft pink lips. The type of girl he liked best.

She didn’t know it, but soon she would be his.

In the past, something had always gone wrong. But this time would be different.

This time he would get what he wanted.

chapter 1

“Slow down!” Paulette Fox gripped the dashboard as her friend Jonathan Maddox wrenched the car around a corner.

“I’m only doing forty!” Jonathan protested.

“Forty-five,” Paulette responded. “In a thirty-mile-an-hour zone,” she added.

“Maybe I was doing forty-one,” Jonathan insisted.

“You liar!” Paulette cried. “I can hear. I can feel the wind rushing by the window.”

“Okay, okay.” Jonathan eased up on the accelerator. “You must be the only blind back-seat driver in history,” he teased.

Paulette smiled. She was glad Jonathan could joke about her blindness. She hated it when people felt sorry for her. “Just because I can’t see—”

“Doesn’t mean you’re stupid,” Jonathan finished for her.

“I guess I say that a lot, huh?” Paulette commented.

“Only every twenty or thirty seconds,” Jonathan said. “But don’t worry. It’s starting to sink in.”

Paulette rolled the window down the rest of the way. She loved to feel the wind rushing across her face. “So what did you sign up for in gym?” Paulette asked.

“Basketball,” he said. “I figured if I got a little extra practice, maybe I’d make it off the bench this season.”

“That’s a good idea. I’m going to take self-defense,” Paulette told him.

“What?” Jonathan cried. “No way!”

“Why not?” Paulette demanded. “I’m in great shape.”

“I know that,” Jonathan replied. “But isn’t self-defense a little dangerous?”

“What’s your problem?” Paulette exclaimed. “Don’t you think I can handle it?”

Jonathan didn’t answer for a moment. “You probably can,” he said at last. “But how did you talk your parents into it? I can’t imagine them being thrilled with the idea.”

“They don’t exactly know yet,” Paulette admitted. And she wasn’t all that eager to tell them.

“Don’t they have to sign something?”

“I haven’t given it to them yet,” Paulette said. “I’m hoping when I do, they won’t read it too closely. Maybe I’ll give it to Dad before his first cup of coffee. He’s like a zombie then.”

“Well, good luck,” Jonathan said.

Paulette knew from his tone of voice that Jonathan didn’t think she had much of a chance. She sighed. She was used to other people doubting her abilities.

Even her parents didn’t realize how capable she was. They never understood that she didn’t feel handicapped. Paulette had been blind since birth. She didn’t know anything else. She never felt as if she were missing something.

She could get around perfectly well with her cane. And her years without seeing had made all her other senses much sharper than most people’s.

The car lurched to a stop. “First stop, Shadyside Music Academy,” Jonathan announced.

“Thanks for driving me,” Paulette said. “There’s nothing much for you to do while you wait. Did you bring homework or anything?”

“I forgot,” Jonathan answered. “Is it okay if I listen to your lesson?”

“Sure, come on in,” Paulette said. “I’m in practice room three.”

“I just have to find a parking place,” Jonathan replied.

Paulette opened the door. Using her cane, she stepped out onto the asphalt. She heard Jonathan pull away from the curb.

Paulette began to tap her way down the gentle slope to the main walkway of the Academy. She heard the sounds of piano and wind instruments drifting through open windows on the fall air.

Someone in one of the rooms is practicing the same Schubert piece I’m working on, she thought.

The spicy scents of leaves and fall wildflowers surrounded her. And she could smell the sharp, sweet scent of wood smoke from a fireplace.

She heard something move along the asphalt behind her. Something heavy.

“Watch out!” someone screamed.

Paulette spun in the direction of the cry. Something heavy crashed into her.

chapter 2

Paulette fell to the ground. Sharp pebbles cut into her hands and knees.

She heard a crash behind her. Then voices shouting.

“Are you all right?” asked a guy near her ear. “That was really close!”

“What—what happened?” Paulette gasped. Her heart thudded hard against her ribs. She pushed herself to a sitting position. Her cheek stung where gravel had struck it. She reached out, uncertainly. A strong hand took hers.

“I saw a car coming straight at you. I had to shove you out of the way!” the guy said in a rush. “It only missed you by about a foot.”

Paulette pulled in a long breath.

“Are you okay?” the guy asked again. “I’m sorry I knocked you down. There wasn’t time to do anything else.”

“I still can’t believe it happened,” Paulette answered. “But I’m not hurt or anything. Who was driving? Where are they?”

“The car was empty. It crashed into the mailboxes,” the guy answered.

“But what … how?”

“I don’t know. Jed, what happened?” he called.

“Some bozo forgot to set the emergency brake,” another voice replied. “Some idiot who doesn’t know how to park on hills.”

“Here, let me help you up,” the guy holding her hand said. He pulled her gently to her feet. “Do you want to go to the emergency room?”

“No,” Paulette insisted. “I’m fine.” She brushed herself off. She heard tiny particles of gravel fall onto the asphalt. “Thank you,” she said. “I think you saved my life.”

“I’m just glad I got to you in time, Paulette,” he answered.

“How do you know my name?” Paulette asked. His voice didn’t sound familiar. She was sure they hadn’t met before.

“Everyone knows who you are,” he replied. “Everyone at school. I’m Brad Jones. I’m a senior at Shadyside.”

“I’ve never heard of you,” Paulette blurted out.

“This is my first year,” Brad explained. “I transferred at the end of September. It’s kind of a pain starting a new school as a senior.” He pressed the head of her cane into her hand.

Paulette felt much better now that she had her cane back. More in control.

“I bet,” she answered. “I’d hate to switch schools. Do you take lessons at the Academy too?”

“I wish I did,” Brad answered. “I love music. I’ve been studying my whole life. But this place is too expensive. I work here part-time helping the janitor.”

“So what do you play?” Paulette asked.

“The same as you,” Brad replied. “Piano. I’ve heard you. You’re really great.”

“Thanks,” Paulette said. She liked Brad’s voice. Smooth and deep. It reminded her of a baritone saxophone.

Say something else, she ordered herself. “Um … maybe I’ll get to hear you play sometime too.”

“You’re about a million times better than I am,” Brad said.

“That’s perfect!” Paulette joked. “I love listening to people who play worse than I do. It makes me feel good.”

“Then you’ll feel great after you hear me!” Brad replied, laughing.

“Paulette!” Jonathan yelled. She’d recognize his nasal voice anywhere. “What happened?” He grabbed her by the shoulders. “Your face is bleeding.”

Paulette ran her fingers over her face. Her right cheek felt wet and sticky.

“I fell and I got a bunch of little cuts from the gravel,” Paulette explained. “But I’m okay.” She pulled a Kleenex out of her purse and wiped off her face.

Paulette stuffed the tissue back in her purse. “Someone forgot to set their parking brake and their car came rolling at me,” she continued. “Brad pushed me out of the way. Do you guys know each other?”

“Yeah,” Brad answered. “We’re in the same English class.”

“Lucky you were around,” Jonathan said. “Do you want me to take you home, Paulette?”

“No, I still want to go to my lesson,” she answered. “I have a recital coming up. I need to get ready.”

“I should get to work,” Brad said. “The janitor goes nuts if I’m two minutes late.”

Paulette wished she could talk to Brad a little longer. “Thanks again,” she told him.

“No problem,” Brad replied. “Maybe I’ll see you at school or something.”

“Later,” Jonathan said.

Paulette heard Brad walk away, in the opposite direction from the annex.

“Come on. My lesson is going to be half over before I get there,” Paulette said. She and Jonathan hurried to the main walkway and into the piano studio.

“I had a hard time keeping my mind on my music,” Paulette told Jonathan later as they headed back to the car. “I can’t believe how many mistakes I made.”

“Yeah, I thought the piano was broken,” Jonathan teased.

“Thanks a lot!” Paulette laughed.

“Paulette!” Brad’s voice.

Paulette stopped. She heard his footsteps rushing toward them.

“I’m glad I caught you,” Brad said. “I wanted to get your phone number. You know, so we can set up a time for you to hear my bad piano playing.”

“Sure,” Paulette answered. This is so great, she thought. Brad wants to get together.

“Paulette—” Jonathan started. But Paulette was already reciting the numbers.

“Great,” Brad said. “Thanks a lot. I’ve got to get back to work now. The janitor thinks I’m doing inventory in the supply closet. I’ll call you. See you in class, Jonathan.” He hurried off.

“Whoa!” she breathed. “He’s so cool!” They reached the car and Paulette climbed in. “He doesn’t treat me like I’m some kind of freak.”

“Neither do I,” Jonathan mumbled.

“Yeah, but we’ve known each other since kindergarten,” Paulette said. “Most guys act as if I’m so fragile I could break or something. Brad doesn’t even seem to care that I’m different.”

Jonathan pulled away from the curve. “So, what does he look like?” Paulette asked.

“I don’t exactly go around staring at other guys,” Jonathan muttered.

“Oh, come on,” Paulette groaned.

“He has brown hair, I think,” Jonathan told her.

“You’re no help. I’ll just have to ask Cindy,” Paulette said. Paulette’s best friend, Cindy Webb, could give a description of every guy in school. She had a whole rating system.

“I’m surprised Cindy hasn’t told you about him already. She’s always heard all the gossip about everybody,” Jonathan said.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Paulette demanded. “What kind of gossip?”

“It’s probably just rumors,” Jonathan replied.

“What is probably just rumors?” Paulette demanded. “You’re driving me nuts. Just tell me.”

“You aren’t going to like it,” Jonathan said.

chapter 3

Jonathan made a right turn onto Canyon Drive.

“Tell me already!” Paulette exclaimed.

“The rumor is that Brad got in major trouble back in Springfield,” Jonathan replied. “I heard he got arrested.”

“No way!” Paulette gasped. “For what?”

“Some kind of robbery,” Jonathan said.

“Who told you that?” Paulette demanded.

“Everyone’s saying it,” he answered. “A guy in my math class told me. He used to live in Springfield. He said Brad Jones is bad news.”

“I don’t believe it,” Paulette insisted. “All you’ve heard is rumors. The guy could be making the whole thing up.”

“Why don’t you ask Brad about it?” Jonathan said.

For a moment Paulette didn’t answer. “Maybe I will,” she said finally. “When I know him better. So far, he seems like a really nice guy.”

“You don’t know him at all,” Jonathan replied. “You just met him today. You talked to him for about two minutes.”

“So what? You can get a sense of someone right away. And slow down!”

“I’m not speeding!” The car squealed as it swerved around a corner.

“You know what?” Paulette said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were jealous or something.”

“Oh, yeah. For sure,” Jonathan snapped.

“Really,” Paulette insisted. “Why else would you be telling me all this bad stuff about him?”

“I just thought you would want to know what everyone is saying about the guy,” Jonathan answered. “As if you ever listen to anyone anyway.”

“Want any help getting ready for school tomorrow?” Paulette’s mom asked.

“No, thanks,” Paulette replied firmly. “I haven’t needed help since I was in elementary school.”

“I just like to do things for you sometimes,” Mrs. Fox said.

“I know,” Paulette answered. She tried not to sound annoyed. She wished her parents wouldn’t fuss over her so much. “Good night, Mom.”

“Sleep tight,” Mrs. Fox answered.

Paulette shut her door and began the routine she practiced every night. First she had to choose the clothes she would wear to school in the morning.

Her mother kept her clothes on hangers with color-coding bumps. Paulette decided on black stretch jeans and a long red T-shirt. She carefully folded the clothes, then set them on the chair by her door.

Next, she put on her nightgown and brushed her teeth. She always kept her toothbrush in the same slot so she could find it easily.

Unlike most of her friends, Paulette was a neat freak. She’d learned long ago that the only way for a blind person to find things was to keep them where they were supposed to be. The furniture in her house was also kept in precise locations.

Even the backyard was set up so she could find her way around. Her father had installed guide rails near the porch and along the paths, and the lawn furniture was always kept in the same places.

Paulette moved through the house and yard as quickly as any sighted person. Once, when she was little, her father had forgotten to close a cabinet door. Paulette got a nasty bruise on her head.

Her parents never forgot stuff like that now. She didn’t even have to use her cane in the house or backyard because everything was right where she expected it to be.

When she had finished getting ready for bed, Paulette climbed under the covers and switched on the CD player at her bedside. Like her clothing, her CD covers were coded.

A moment later the phone rang. She hit the pause button on the CD player.

“Hi, Paulette,” said a high, cheery voice.

“Hi, Cindy.” Paulette’s best friend lived only a few houses down from Paulette, but they usually spoke on the phone several times a day.

“I just got through talking to Jonathan,” Cindy said. “He tells me you’re having a hot romance with Brad Jones.”

Paulette had to laugh. Cindy loved gossiping more than anything. “I’m not having a hot romance with anyone,” Paulette told her. “I just met Brad today.”

“So? I’ve seen Brad in the lunchroom,” Cindy went on. “He’s totally cool looking. He has wavy brown hair and these amazing, dark eyes. He looks like a movie star.”

“Thank you,” Paulette said. “You should have heard Jonathan’s description. He said he thought Brad had brown hair!”

Cindy laughed. “Typical Jonathan,” she answered.

“I like Brad’s voice,” Paulette said.

“What did he say to you? Tell me everything,” Cindy demanded.

“Not much,” Paulette admitted. “He plays the piano too. And he works part-time at the Academy. He seems really cool.”

“Jonathan said you gave him your number,” Cindy said.

“Jonathan has a big mouth!” Paulette exclaimed.

“Are you going to go out with him or what?”

“Duh!” Paulette exclaimed. “If he asks me, of course I am.”

“I would too,” Cindy said. “But Jonathan thinks you should stay away from him. He’s all worried because of the rumors about Brad.”

“Do you think the stories about Brad could be true?” Paulette asked.

“I don’t know,” Cindy answered. “Rumors don’t start from nothing. But they could be really exaggerated.”

“Well, it’s not as if I’m planning to run off with him or anything,” Paulette said.

“You’re right,” Cindy agreed, laughing. “Jonathan worries way too much about everything.”

“Tell me about it,” Paulette replied. “He’s worse than my parents. He’s so overprotective of me sometimes. It makes me nuts.”

“Whoops, I’ve got to go,” Cindy said. “My dad needs the phone to get on line.”

“See you in school tomorrow.” Paulette hung up the phone and switched the CD back on. But she scarcely heard the music. Thoughts of Brad filled her head.

Over and over, she heard his smooth baritone voice. She remembered the gentle touch of his hand as he helped her to her feet.

Maybe I am going a little overboard, she thought, smiling to herself.

The CD ended, and she switched it off. She was just drifting off to sleep when the phone rang again.

“Hello?” she mumbled sleepily.

“Paulette? Is this Paulette?” a husky voice said softly.

“Yes,” she replied, suddenly awake again. “Who is this?”

“It’s Brad.”

“Brad!” Paulette felt her heart speed up. “I didn’t recognize your voice! Why are you whispering?”

“I’m at a friend’s house,” he said. “I don’t want to talk too loud. How are you doing?”

“Pretty good,” she replied. “I’m glad you called.”

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he went on. “Ever since I saw you this afternoon.”

For a moment Paulette didn’t answer. She felt the same way herself. Should she say that to Brad?

“Did you hear me?” Brad asked. “It’s like you’re the one I’ve been looking for.”

“I … I don’t know what to say,” Paulette whispered.

“You’ve been thinking about me too, haven’t you? Haven’t you, Paulette. I know you have. I couldn’t feel this way unless you did too.”

“I—we hardly know each other!” she protested.

“That doesn’t matter, Paulette. I know all I need to know. You feel the same way. You have to. Admit it,” Brad said.

Paulette didn’t answer. He sounded so intense.

What am I supposed to say? she thought.

She could hear his breathing on the other end of the line. Harsh, ragged breaths. Then, a moment later, she heard a click as he hung up.

chapter 4

“No! Paulette!” Ms. Tillotson exclaimed. “Don’t fight it. Go with your opponent’s strength!”

Paulette shoved herself to her feet. It was the first day of her self-defense course, and she’d already landed on the floor three times.

She faced the teacher again. Knees slightly bent. Waiting for Ms. Tillotson to attack.

Ms. Tillotson approached. She grabbed Paulette’s arms. Paulette struggled to pull away, and again found herself thrown to the ground.

“Concentrate!” Ms. Tillotson urged. “If you can sense that I’m about to move to the right, move to the right with me. Don’t fight your enemy. Don’t resist. Instead, use your enemy’s strength against him.”

“This is so hard!” Paulette wailed.

“You’re right,” Ms. Tillotson replied. “But there’s no reason you can’t learn it. It has nothing to do with seeing. It has everything to do with anticipation and concentration.”

Paulette took a deep breath. Stop being such a wimp! she told herself. Do what Ms. Tillotson says!

Paulette got into position again. This time she tried to put herself in Ms. Tillotson’s head, imagining the teacher’s next move.

Ms. Tillotson approached from the side. She grabbed Paulette’s arms again.

But this time Paulette was ready. She didn’t fight back. She moved in the same direction as the teacher. She used the momentum to yank on the teacher’s arms.

“Whoa!” Ms. Tillotson cried. Paulette felt the teacher lose her balance and go down.

“Good work, Paulette!” Ms. Tillotson cried. “You’re learning fast!”

“Thanks.” Paulette smiled.

“By the way,” the teacher added. “You still haven’t brought your parents’ signed permission slip. I need it by Friday, or I’ll have to drop you from the course.”

“No problem,” Paulette replied. I hope, she added to herself. She hurried off to the locker room.

After showering and dressing, Paulette headed for the cafeteria. We’re having stir fry today, she thought. She could recognize every dish the cafeteria served by smell.

When they were kids, she and Jonathan used to play the Nose Game. He would bring her a bunch of jars from the kitchen. She would smell them and tell him what they were. She hardly ever got one wrong.

“I’m putting stir fry in the middle,” the cafeteria server told her. “Whipped potatoes below, and salad at the top, at eleven o’clock.”

“Thanks,” Paulette replied. The servers in the cafeteria all knew how to prepare her plate so she’d be able to find her food easily.

She took her tray to the usual table by the window. She could tell from the silence in this corner of the room that no one else was there yet. She picked up her fork, but didn’t eat. She started thinking about Brad again.

A moment later familiar footsteps came running up, and the scent of Cindy’s favorite perfume surrounded Paulette.

“Hi,” Cindy said breathlessly. “Sorry I’m late. I couldn’t get my locker open.”

“No problem,” Paulette replied.

“Did you hear about Anthony and Sandy?” Cindy went on. “They’re going to homecoming together. I don’t know what happened to Sandy’s boyfriend from Waynesbridge.”

“Um-hm,” Paulette said.

“Also, guess who asked out Jeffrey Galway’s sister.”

Paulette didn’t answer.

“Hey, Earth to Paulette,” Cindy cried. “Have you heard a single thing I said?”

“I’m sorry, Cindy,” Paulette said. “I guess I’m not all here today.”

“I guess not,” Cindy agreed. “I saw Brad this morning before class. He was carrying about a hundred books out of the library.”

“Really?” Paulette asked.

“Have you talked to him today?”

“No,” Paulette admitted. “But he called me last night, after you and I talked.”

“He did? Did he ask you out?”

“No,” Paulette said. She hesitated, wondering how much to tell Cindy. “He … he sounded different. Not the way I remembered him from earlier in the day.”

“What do you mean, different?” Cindy asked. “You mean his voice was different, or what he said was weird, or what?”

“Well, both,” Paulette said.

“Hi, Paulette.” It was Brad’s smooth baritone. He sounded exactly as he had yesterday afternoon. His warm, leathery scent already seemed familiar.

“Hi,” Paulette answered.

“I promised Arline I’d have part of my lunch with her. She wants to hear all about Jeffrey Galway’s sister,” Cindy explained. Paulette heard her pick up her tray and hurry off.

“See you later,” Paulette called. I hope it wasn’t obvious to Brad that Cindy made that story up, she thought.

“Have a seat,” Paulette said.

“Thanks,” Brad replied. He set his tray down. She felt her chair move as he settled next to her. “I’m having the stir fry too. Big mistake, huh?”

“It isn’t too bad,” Paulette replied. Then she added, “If you don’t swallow!”

They both laughed.

Should I say anything to him about our phone conversation? she wondered.

No, she decided. If he’s not going to say anything, I’m not going to say anything. I bet he feels sort of embarrassed about it. He was a little weird!

She heard Brad’s fork scrape the plate. “Ever since school started I’ve watched you eating from the other side of the lunchroom,” he admitted. “It’s good sitting next to you for a change.”

“I didn’t even know you were there before,” Paulette answered.

“Now we’ll finally get to know each other,” Brad said. “I didn’t mean to chase your friend Cindy away.”

“You didn’t,” Paulette assured him. “Cindy has to know everything that’s going on with everybody. She might miss some important gossip if she spent the entire lunch hour with me.”

“I don’t get gossip. Who cares who breaks up with who and all that stuff? It’s boring,” Brad said.

“I think so too,” Paulette agreed.

“We must have been separated at birth,” Brad joked. “We both play piano, we both think gossip is boring.”

Paulette laughed. “We both come from the planet Earth,” she teased. “How else are we alike?”

“Well, we’re both incredibly intelligent and good-looking,” Brad answered.

“Oh, really?” Paulette said.

“You are, anyway,” Brad continued. “I’m actually so ugly I usually wear a bag over my head.”

“You are not!” Paulette protested. “Cindy says you look like a movie star.”

“Right,” Brad agreed. “King Kong. Want to see for yourself?”

“What do you mean?”

He took her hands in his and placed them on his face. Slowly, Paulette let her fingertips move over his soft cheeks, feeling the high cheekbones. The silky hair falling over his forehead. His strong, straight nose. The tiny scar by his left eye. His smooth, full lips. Piece by piece, she built up a sense picture of his face.

“Thank you,” she said after a moment. “Some people don’t like me to do that.”

“You can look at me anytime you want,” Brad replied.

“I can picture you exactly now,” Paulette went on. She reached out and touched the little scar by his eye again. “How did you get this?” she asked.

“I fell out of a tree when I was three years old,” Brad replied. “The scar doesn’t show, even though you can feel it. You’re the only person who’s ever noticed it. Your other senses must be really sharp.”

“I’ve always thought that,” Paulette agreed. “But none of my friends has ever realized it. They always think I’m missing out on things because I can’t see.”

“I bet it helps your piano playing,” Brad went on. “You probably feel differences in the piano keys and pedals that other people wouldn’t.”

“That makes sense,” Paulette murmured. “I never thought about that.”

“I wish I could play half as well as you,” he continued.

“I’m sure you’re excellent,” Paulette objected. “I’d love to hear you play sometime.”

“I’ve been playing all my life, but I’ve never had lessons,” Brad said. “My family couldn’t afford a piano. I’d just practice whenever I could find one free at school.”

“You could come over to my house and practice on my family’s,” Paulette volunteered.

Brad was silent a moment. “I couldn’t do that,” he said. “Thanks anyway.”

“But you’ll never get better if you don’t play regularly,” Paulette insisted.

“I do,” Brad told her. “I just found a piano I can use whenever I want.”

“At the Academy?” Paulette guessed.

“No. They charge too much for practice time,” Brad said. “You’ll never guess where my piano is.”

“Now you’ve got my curiosity up!” Paulette laughed. “You have to tell me.”

“I practice on an old, abandoned piano in an empty house … on Fear Street!” Brad told her.

On her way home from school that afternoon, Paulette thought about the things Brad had told her. She wasn’t sure she believed that he was practicing in an abandoned house. But maybe it was true.

Paulette kept thinking about that phone call. Brad had acted so strange. So different from the way he acted at lunch or that day at the Academy. So intense. It was a little scary.

She climbed the three steps to her front door, unlocked it, and hurried upstairs to change. The echoes from her footsteps told her the house was empty.

She remembered that both her parents had meetings that night. They wouldn’t be home until late.

Paulette entered her room. She banged her shin on something and nearly fell. What was that? She bent down and felt around the floor.

Her wastebasket. That’s what she had bumped into.

Weird. She remembered that she’d rushed getting ready for school that morning. I must have forgotten to put it back after I emptied it, she thought.

She placed her pack and books on the desk, returned the wastebasket to its usual spot, and changed clothes. Then she headed back downstairs and settled on the piano bench for her daily practice.

She began work on a sonata for an upcoming recital. At first it was hard to concentrate. Thoughts of Brad kept getting in the way.

But soon the music took over. Paulette lost herself in the feeling of her fingers on the keys, her feet on the pedals, and the sounds of the notes filling the air around her.

Paulette jumped when the doorbell rang. She checked her braille watch. Six o’clock. It must be Cindy, she thought. They were supposed to work on a project for history.

Paulette hopped up and opened the door for her friend. “Sounding good,” Cindy said. “I guess being in looove is good for your music.”

“Give it a rest,” Paulette said. But she couldn’t help smiling. “Come on, let’s grab a bag of popcorn and hit the books.”

Paulette led the way into the kitchen. She and Cindy pulled cans of soda from the fridge, microwaved a big bag of popcorn, and started up the stairs.

Paulette pushed the door to her room open and headed straight for the bed, where she liked to study.

“I brought over a new CD,” Cindy said. “I—”

She stopped abruptly. Paulette heard her give a sharp gasp.

“No!” Cindy cried. “No!”

chapter 5

“No!” Cindy screamed again. “I don’t believe it!”

“What’s wrong?” Paulette exclaimed. She rushed over to Cindy and grabbed her by the arms. “What happened?”

“Haven’t you been in your room today?” Cindy finally managed to ask. “But no—of course, you couldn’t have seen it,” she continued.

“Seen what?” Paulette cried. “Cindy, tell me! What’s wrong? What do you see?”

“I’m sorry, Paulette,” Cindy replied. Her voice still shook, but she sounded calmer. “I … I don’t know how to tell you this. It’s the walls,” Cindy explained. “Someone has … has written on the walls with red paint.”

“Written on them?” Paulette felt stupid. Why would anyone write on her walls? How could anyone even get in here?

“They drew a skull and crossbones,” Cindy went on. “And they wrote …” She paused again.

“What? What?” Paulette demanded. She still couldn’t quite believe that this was really happening.

“It says, ‘You will be dead, blind girl,’” Cindy choked out.

“What? Who would do something like that?” Paulette cried.

“I’m so sorry, Paulette!” Cindy said. “I’m sorry I had to tell you. I can’t believe anyone would do anything so awful!”

“Neither can I,” Paulette answered. She felt a cold lump in her throat. “Where is the writing?” she asked.

“It’s on the wall behind your bed,” Cindy answered.

Paulette crossed to her bed and gently touched the wall. Now she felt it—the nearly dried streaks of sticky paint. She traced the words with her fingertips.

You will be dead, blind girl.

The faint scent of paint filled her nostrils. She fought a wave of nausea.

“Is there any other writing?” she asked after a moment. “Is anything broken or missing?”

“Everything else looks okay,” Cindy said. Paulette heard her opening and shutting drawers. “Everything’s here,” Cindy said.

Paulette sank onto her bed. “I can’t believe someone could do this,” she said.

She shuddered. “I can’t believe someone sneaked into the house, into my bedroom. I came in here right after school,” she went on. “I was in my room, I changed clothes, and I never knew … never knew that someone had … had …”

“Wait!” Cindy exclaimed. “What if they’re still here? What if they’re still in the house with us?”

“Come on,” Paulette urged. “We have to check.”

“Let’s call the police!” Cindy protested.

“Not now. Not yet. They must be gone, but let’s just make sure.” Paulette grabbed a heavy bookend. She could use it as a weapon if she had to. She yanked open her closet door.

“It’s empty,” Cindy murmured.

The two girls checked each of the other rooms. All empty.

“I wonder how he got in,” Paulette said as they returned to her room.

“Your window’s open,” Cindy commented. “Don’t you usually close it in the morning?”

“I always close it before I go to school,” Paulette replied.

Paulette heard Cindy cross to the window. “The porch roof is only a few feet down. They must have climbed up on it and then opened the window. Come on, let’s call the police now.”

“No!” Paulette snapped.

“But, Paulette—”

“I don’t want anyone to know about this,” she told Cindy. “Not the police and not my parents.”

“But why not?” Cindy protested. “Someone broke into your house! Someone threatened you!”

“It won’t happen again,” Paulette said. “I’ll make sure I lock my window in the morning. I’ll double-check all the windows and the front and back doors before I go to school.”

“But—”

“Please,” Paulette went on. “You know what my parents are like, Cindy. If they find out about this, they might hire a baby-sitter for me. They would never let me stay home alone.”

Paulette couldn’t stand it if her parents became even more protective of her. If they found out about this, it would be all they’d talk about for days. They would be so worried and upset.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t stay alone—at least for a while.”

“I can’t believe you said that!” Paulette cried. “Cindy, you are my best friend. And now you’re treating me like a baby too! Everyone thinks I can’t take care of myself just because I’m blind. I hate that!”

“That’s not true!” Cindy cried. “You think everything has to do with you being blind. But it doesn’t. I wouldn’t want to be alone if this happened to me. Someone wants you dead, Paulette.”

Paulette took a deep breath. “Sorry,” she muttered. “But I still don’t believe anyone really wants me dead. I’m sure this was just some stupid kids playing a mean joke.”

“They broke into your house!” Cindy protested. “That’s not a joke!”

“Please, let’s not argue about it. I feel perfectly safe now. And I’ll be extra careful. Please, just help me clean this up before my parents come home.”

When Paulette’s alarm rang the next morning, she sat up and ran her hands over the wall behind her bed. There was a slightly slick feel to the new paint she and Cindy had used to cover the writing. But Cindy told her that it wasn’t a difference anyone could see.

Paulette shuddered, remembering how violated she had felt last night. It wasn’t anything serious, she told herself firmly. It was just a prank.

Paulette dressed for school. Then she double-checked her window lock and headed downstairs to the kitchen. Mmm, Mom made cornmeal pancakes, she thought. She loved the sweet aroma.

“Well, look who’s finally up,” her father said. “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Good morning, Dad,” Paulette replied. She crossed to the head of the table and kissed his cheek. She heard a rustling as he turned a page in the newspaper. “Where’s Mom?”

“Right here,” Mrs. Fox answered from the stairway to the basement. “We were low on syrup, so I thought I’d better get another bottle.”

“You guys must have come home really late last night,” Paulette commented.

“It was nearly twelve,” Paulette’s mother agreed. “You were sound asleep when we came in. How many pancakes do you want?”

“About a dozen,” Paulette joked. “But I’ll settle for three.”

“Coming right up.”

Paulette’s mom was an award-winning chef. She worked at one of the best restaurants in Shadyside. Over the years, she had taught Paulette to cook, using braille-marked measuring cups and spoons.

“Sorry I’ve been working late so much,” Mr. Fox said. “How’s your music coming for the recital?”

“Good,” she told him. Mrs. Fox set a plate of pancakes in front of Paulette. Paulette took a big bite of one. “The pancakes are fabulous, Mom.”

“I’m glad you like them,” her mother replied. “There’s nothing like a good breakfast to start the day off right.”

“Yeah, and I need help.” Paulette laughed. “My first class is really tough.”

“Are you making any new friends this semester?” her father asked. Her dad always asked her a million questions. She didn’t want to think about how nuts he’d get if he found out about the message painted on her wall.

Paulette opened her mouth to mention Brad, then shut it again. I’ll wait till I know him better before I say anything, she thought.

“No, not really,” Paulette replied. “But the semester just began. Speaking of school,” she added, “you guys have to sign a form for me for gym.”

“No problem,” Paulette’s mother said.

Paulette reached into her pack. Her fingers found the brailled folder for gym. She pulled out the form, then handed it to her mother.

“Okay,” Mrs. Fox said. “Let’s just …” She stopped. “It says this gives you permission to take a self-defense class!”

“Uh, right,” Paulette replied. “That’s the course.”

“You’re taking self-defense?” her mother repeated.

“Well, sure,” Paulette said casually. “Don’t you want me to be able to defend myself?”

“Well, of course we do,” her mother replied. “But isn’t that a little … uh … advanced for you?”

“You mean you don’t think I can do it because I’m blind, right?”

“Of course not!” Paulette’s mother replied. “But I’d hate you to take on something you can’t handle.”

“I can handle it!” Paulette cried. “The instructor is very impressed with my progress!”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Fox said. “What do you think, John?”

Paulette’s father didn’t answer at first. Then he sighed. “If Paulette thinks she can do it, then she probably can.

“But Paulette,” he added, “don’t let it lull you into a false sense of safety. Don’t start thinking you can do things that you can’t.”

“I won’t,” Paulette promised. She finished her breakfast and left for school.

For the hundredth time she wondered why her parents had to be so protective of her. They were great in a way. They let her go to a regular school and everything. But they never stopped thinking about her limits.

Paulette turned onto Park Drive, tapping her cane along the sidewalk. Brad is different, she thought. I bet he’d think it’s great that I’m taking self-defense.

She wanted to tell her parents about Brad. She still wasn’t sure why she hadn’t. She was sure they would like him.

It must be because of the things Jonathan said, she thought. She didn’t believe the rumors about Brad. But if her parents heard the stories about Brad getting arrested, they wouldn’t want her to go out with him.

A soft breeze brushed her face, bringing the rubber and concrete smells of a nearby construction site. The morning bird whistles were nearly drowned out by the rush-hour traffic whizzing past her on Park Drive.

Then she heard something else—hard-soled shoes running behind her. It must be one of her friends, trying to catch up, she thought. “Who’s there?” she called.

No answer. The footsteps slowed. They came closer.

Paulette slowed her pace to let the person catch up with her.

“Hi?” she called.

No answer.

The person was right behind her now. Still not saying a word.

Paulette felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle. Was someone trying to scare her? Was it the person who broke into her house?

Stop that, Paulette! she ordered herself. It’s probably someone who doesn’t know me. They probably didn’t even realize I was talking to them.

She kept walking. She could hear the footsteps behind her.

When she reached the corner of Mission and Park, the footsteps sped up. She heard them pounding on the pavement.

Click.

The traffic light changed. Cars started across the intersection.

The footsteps had almost reached her. They didn’t slow down.

“Who’s there?” Paulette screamed. “Why won’t you answer me?”

Two hands slammed into her back.

She flew into the street. She landed hard on the asphalt.

The air whooshed out of her lungs.

She bit her tongue. She tasted blood in her mouth.

A car horn blared. Tires squealed.

chapter 6

Paulette rolled away from the car. She slammed against the curb. Pain shot through her shoulder.

She tasted the sour gutter water on her lips. She gagged.

Paulette heard a car door slam. Footsteps hurried toward her.

“Are you okay?” a woman exclaimed. “I didn’t see you. I almost couldn’t stop in time.”

“I-I’m all right,” Paulette answered. She heard her voice shaking. She felt around for her cane. She needed her cane. Where was it?

“Let me drive you home,” the woman said. “Is one of your parents there?”

Strong hands grabbed her wrists, pulled her to her feet.

“Do you know her?” the woman asked someone else.

“Yes. It’s me, Paulette. Brad,” he said. “You’re safe now.” His voice sounded husky, as if he had a cold.

A horn beeped. “You’re parked in the middle of the road!” someone yelled.

“I have to move my car,” the woman said. “Let me take you home. It would make me feel much better.”

“I’m all right. Really,” Paulette insisted. “Just a little shaky.”

“I’ll make her go to the nurse as soon as we get to school. It’s right down there,” Brad said.

Another car horn blared.

“Go ahead,” Paulette told the woman.

“Okay, then.” Paulette heard the woman hurry back to her car.

“What happened?” Brad asked. “Did you trip over something?”

“Someone pushed me into the street!” Paulette cried. “Do you see anyone? Maybe they are still around.”

“Pushed you? No one pushed you,” he replied. “I was down the block. You were all alone.”

“No!” Paulette protested. “I heard someone behind me. I felt someone’s hands—”

“You must have tripped,” he said. “There’s a hole in the sidewalk right near the corner.”

“No, I didn’t,” she replied. “I’m sure I was pushed. I guess you just didn’t see—”

“You’re in shock,” Brad said. He put his arms around her and pulled her to him. Holding her so tight. Too tight.

Paulette tried to move away. Brad placed his hands on both sides of her face. Forcing her closer to him. “I’m here for you, Paulette,” he whispered.

“Brad,” Paulette replied. “Let’s go—”

“I think about you all the time,” he interrupted in a hoarse whisper. “You think about me too, don’t you, Paulette? Don’t you?”

“No!” Paulette cried, jerking away. “Brad, what’s wrong with you?”

He was acting so strange. So intense.

“Here’s your cane,” Brad said. He shoved it into her hand. “See you later!”

Paulette’s fingers moved along the pages of her braille geography book. But she couldn’t concentrate. She’d already read the paragraph on Sri Lanka three times—and couldn’t remember any of it. This study hall is a total waste, she thought.

She couldn’t stop thinking about the strange way Brad had behaved that morning.

“Hey, Paulette,” Cindy whispered from across one of the long library tables. “You look spaced. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Paulette whispered back.

“I’m not,” Jonathan said. He sat next to Paulette. “I keep thinking about lunch.”

“You’re always thinking about lunch!” Cindy laughed. “No wonder you look like a beached whale!”

“I’d rather look like a beached whale than a sick guppy!” Jonathan shot back.

“Cut it out!” Paulette said. “Can’t you two stop insulting each other for three seconds?”

“Don’t look now, but your new boyfriend just came into the library,” Jonathan said sarcastically.

“If you mean Brad, he’s not my boyfriend,” Paulette answered. She wished Jonathan would get over this problem he had with Brad.

I’m glad I didn’t tell him and Cindy what happened this morning, Paulette thought. She didn’t want to give them more reasons to warn her about Brad.

Watching me almost get hit by a car probably scared Brad too, she thought. That must be why he held me so tight. Why he acted so weird.

Paulette felt a gentle hand on her shoulder, then warm breath against her ear. “Can you take a quick study break?” Brad asked.

“Sure,” she replied. She rose and followed him into the stacks.

“I came to get a book for history class,” he whispered. “I’m glad I ran into you. I wanted to ask you if you could come hear me play piano tonight.”

“I don’t know if I can …” Paulette answered. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be alone with Brad.

“Come on,” Brad said. “You told me you wanted to hear me.”

“Well, okay,” Paulette agreed. Brad seemed completely back to normal now.

“You know how sometimes you’re thinking about someone and the next thing you know you see them or they call?” Brad asked. “That just happened to me. I was hoping I’d run into you.”

“But you saw me this morning,” Paulette said.

“This morning?” Brad repeated. He sounded puzzled. “The librarian is looking at us,” he said. “I have to get back to class. I’ll talk to you later.”

Brad waited for Paulette at the Fear Street bus stop. He gave her a quick hug. “Thanks for coming,” he said.

“I can’t wait to hear you play,” she answered.

“Ready?” Brad asked. “The place is just down the street.”

Paulette placed one arm through his. “Careful,” Brad said. “There’s a big pothole coming up in the sidewalk.”

“I feel it,” Paulette replied. She probed the hole with the tip of her cane.

Fear Street had a deserted feel. Paulette knew that families lived in the houses that lined both sides of the street. But she didn’t hear any children playing or neighbors chatting.

The air smelled of dampness and decaying vegetation. Her own neighborhood always smelled of dinners being cooked at this time of day.

Paulette shivered and moved a little closer to Brad.

“Nearly there,” Brad said. “Watch your step—the sidewalk is completely gone here.”

Paulette automatically counted her steps as she tapped her way along the uneven ground. After seventeen steps, her cane came to the end of the small pieces of broken concrete.

Brad turned, and Paulette followed him onto a dirt lawn. Dead grass and weeds crunched under her feet. It took twenty-five steps to reach the creaking wooden porch stairs.

“This is one of the last houses before the graveyard,” Brad told her. “The Fear Street cemetery is just down the way.” He pulled the front door open. “There’s no electricity in here. But for some reason they left the gas connected, so we’ll at least be warm.”

Paulette heard a rustling noise, then the sound of metal scraping against metal. Gas hissed. The pilot light ignited the heater with a whoosh.

“I use a small flashlight so the neighbors won’t wonder why someone is in here,” Brad went on. “The piano is in the living room.”

He led her along the uneven floorboards. Every step raised clouds of dust. Paulette thought the house smelled as if it had been abandoned for years.

“Here it is,” Brad told her. He guided her hand to the piano bench. “Why don’t you give it a try.”

Paulette leaned her cane against the piano and sat on the bench. She opened the old instrument and ran her fingers along the keys. They were well-worn, but clean.

She played a few chords, then the opening section of the sonata she had been practicing. The rich notes of music filled the old house.

“That’s great!” Brad exclaimed when she stopped.

“It’s a little out of tune,” Paulette commented. “But it has a great tone. I wonder why someone left it here.”

“I don’t know,” Brad said. “I heard that the house once belonged to a music teacher. The story is that someone murdered him and his family in here one night. I guess nobody cared what happened to the piano.”

“How horrible,” Paulette murmured. She’d heard so many stories about awful things that had happened on Fear Street.

People said that a bunch of construction workers died while they were building the house at 99 Fear Street. And some kids swore they had seen a ghost in the old Simon Fear mansion.

Paulette hoped none of the stories were true. They can’t be, she told herself.

“You play something, Brad,” she urged.

He slid onto the bench beside her. “I’m not nearly as good as you are,” he told her. He sounded shy suddenly.

“Go on,” she insisted. “I told you I love bad piano playing.”

He played a song that had been popular a few years ago. Paulette liked the way he put feeling into it. But she noticed he stumbled over several of the notes.

“Do you ever play scales?” she asked him.

“Not really,” Brad replied. “Should I?”

“It helps you play smoother,” Paulette said. “Here, let me show you some exercises I do.” She began to play a set of scales.

Brad placed his hands on the keys, and played the same notes, an octave higher. His heavy ring tapped against the keys as his fingers moved. Every time Paulette moved her hand to reach a higher note, she brushed against Brad’s arm.

“Now let me show you something,” Brad said. He slid his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. She felt his warm breath on her cheek.

He’s going to kiss me, Paulette thought.

But a loud crash made her cry out and jerk away from him.

“Someone is upstairs!” she cried.

chapter 7

“Stay here,” Brad whispered. “Don’t move. I’ll go check it out.”

“But, Brad—”

“Don’t go anywhere!” he insisted. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Paulette sat very still on the piano bench. She reached for her cane. She wanted to be able to move fast if she had to.

She heard Brad’s footsteps climbing the stairs. “Who’s there?” he called. “Is anyone there?”

Silence.

What is going on? Paulette wondered.

The ceiling creaked. Soft footsteps passed overhead. A door slammed.

She heard a series of thumps. Someone running? Then muffled shouting.

Paulette strained to make out the words. But she couldn’t. Who is up there with Brad? What are they shouting about?

More footsteps. She heard someone run down the stairs. A door slammed again.

“Brad!” she called.

No answer.

Was that Brad running down the stairs? Paulette thought. Is he gone?

No, she told herself. He wouldn’t leave me here.

Would he?

“Brad! What happened? Are you okay?”

No answer.

She checked her braille watch. She didn’t know what time Brad went upstairs. But she was sure at least ten minutes had passed.

“Brad?” she called. “Brad!”

No answer.

I heard shouting up there before I heard someone run down the stairs, Paulette thought. Who was upstairs with Brad?

Maybe Brad’s hurt. Maybe he’s unconscious.

Paulette imagined him lying in one of the rooms upstairs. Bleeding. I’ve got to find him. Now!

Paulette braced herself on her cane and stood up. Then she slowly, carefully tapped across the uneven floorboards. I heard Brad go back this way, she thought. I should find the stairs any second.

“Brad?” she yelled.

No answer.

She hit something hard with her cane. She put her hand out—and touched a banister.

Good. She found the staircase. “Brad, are you up there?”

No answer.

Paulette’s stomach tightened. Brad had to be here somewhere.

And she was the only person who could help him. She had to go upstairs.

Paulette gripped the banister with one hand. With the other hand, she reached out with her cane to get an idea of the exact height of the first stair.

She carefully stepped up. The wood creaked, but the stair held her weight. She felt for the next stair.

Something rustled behind her.

Something was moving toward her.

Her heart began to beat faster. “Brad?” she called, turning toward the noise. “Brad, is that you?”

No answer.

The rustling sound came again. Louder.

Someone was in the house with her. Coming closer.

Paulette scrambled up the next stair. She had to get away.

Hands grabbed Paulette by the waist. She tried to jerk free. She heard her shirt rip.

The hands held her tighter. Digging into her skin.

“Let me go!” she screamed.

chapter 8

“No!” Paulette shrieked. She fought with all her strength. Twisting and kicking. “Let me go!”

The strong arms gripped her even tighter. It wasn’t Brad. The scent was wrong.

“Paulette! Paulette! Calm down!” a voice cried. A familiar, nasal voice.

“Jonathan!” she exclaimed.

“That’s right, it’s me,” Jonathan said. He relaxed his hold on her and she pulled away.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded. “And why did you grab me?”

“You were about to step on a missing stair,” Jonathan explained. “This staircase is about to collapse. You could have broken your neck.”

“Why are you here anyway?” Paulette asked. Her voice sounded high and shrill. Calm down, she told herself.

“I… I followed you,” Jonathan admitted. “I saw a flashlight waving around from room to room. Then it went out. I got worried, so I decided to see what was going on.”

“Brad and I were playing the piano,” Paulette explained. “Then we heard a sound upstairs. He went up there to check it out—and he never came back.”

She took a deep breath. “I think something happened to Brad. I heard yelling. I think he got into a fight with someone. I was on my way upstairs to find him when you grabbed me.”

“I’ll go,” Jonathan told her. “You wait down here. If you hear anything strange, don’t come upstairs. Just get out of here and get help.”

“But—”

“You can’t help me upstairs,” Jonathan interrupted. “You can’t see anything. Besides, the stairs are too dangerous for you to climb.”

Paulette knew Jonathan was right. “Okay,” she said. “But hurry.”

She heard Jonathan slowly climb the stairs. Then she heard him moving from room to room upstairs. Calling Brad’s name.

Brad didn’t answer.

“What do you see?” Paulette yelled.

“Nothing yet,” Jonathan called down. “I have a few more rooms to check.”

Paulette heard a door open. Then another.

Jonathan’s footsteps moved back down the hall. Then she heard him slowly climbing down the stairs.

“He’s not up there,” Jonathan reported.

“I thought I heard someone running down the stairs before you came in,” Paulette told him. “Maybe he’s somewhere else in the house.”

“I’ll check,” Jonathan replied.

She listened to Jonathan search the first floor. She hated waiting. She wanted to do something.

What could have happened to Brad? she asked herself over and over. Where could he be?

Jonathan has to find him. He has to.

Paulette heard footsteps hurrying toward her. “I’ve checked everywhere,” Jonathan said. “There’s no sign of him. Brad’s gone.”

chapter 9

“He can’t be gone!” Paulette cried. “He wouldn’t just leave me here!”

“He’s not in the house, Paulette,” Jonathan insisted. “I looked everywhere!”

“Something must have happened to him,” Paulette said. “He wouldn’t just leave me. I know he wouldn’t.”

“Well, he did,” Jonathan replied. “There’s nothing you can do here. Now, come on. Let’s go home.”

Paulette hesitated. Jonathan is right, she decided. She took his arm and followed him out of the old house.

She couldn’t stop thinking about Brad. What made him leave? Was there someone else in the house? Was Brad okay?

“Here’s my car,” Jonathan told her. He opened the passenger door and Paulette slid in.

Jonathan climbed behind the wheel and started the engine. “Good thing I showed up,” he murmured. The tires squealed as he pulled away from the curb.

“Slow down!” Paulette ordered. “What were you doing here anyway?”

“I was worried about you,” Jonathan said.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Paulette demanded. “I can take care of myself, and you know it.”

Jonathan didn’t answer.

I can’t believe this, Paulette thought. “You were spying on me. Admit it, Jonathan!”

“I wasn’t spying!” he protested. He snapped on the radio and turned it up.

Paulette clicked it off. “Oh, sure,” she said. “You weren’t following me or anything. You just happened to be wandering past a deserted house on Fear Street.”

“All right, all right.” Jonathan sighed. “I was on my way to basketball practice when I saw you get on the Old Mill Road bus. I thought it was weird. I couldn’t figure out where you could possibly be going. So I followed you. I couldn’t believe it when you got off on Fear Street.”

“So you must have seen me meet Brad at the bus stop,” Paulette said. “You knew I wasn’t out here alone—but you kept on following me.”

“I’ve already told you what I heard about him,” Jonathan replied.

“And I’ve told you that I don’t believe it!” Paulette shot back. “I have a right to be with anyone I want! I don’t need your approval.”

“And I have a right to care about my friends,” Jonathan grumbled. “You’re going to get hurt if you keep hanging around that guy.”

“Did you see anyone else while you were out there?” she asked. “I know there was someone else in the house. Did you see anybody leave?”

“No. There’s a back door, though. I wouldn’t have seen them if they went out that way,” Jonathan told her.

Could it have been Jonathan upstairs with Brad? Paulette thought suddenly. Maybe Jonathan followed us into the house. Maybe it was Jonathan I heard shouting at Brad.

Paulette squeezed her hands around the top of her cane. Jonathan wouldn’t do something like that, she told herself.

But he did follow me. That was a really weird thing to do. And he is so suspicious of Brad.

Paulette twisted her head from side to side, trying to loosen the muscles in her neck.

I’m making myself nuts, she thought. Jonathan is my oldest friend. I can trust him.

That night, Paulette lay in bed—staring at the phone. Ring, she ordered it. Ring!

Why didn’t Brad call? He had to know she was worried about him. And he owed her an explanation for what happened. A big explanation.

She checked her braille alarm clock. After eleven. Give it up, she told herself. He’s not calling.

Paulette rolled over on her side. She closed her eyes. And the phone rang.

Brad! Paulette sat up and grabbed the phone. “Hello?” she said breathlessly.

It was a wrong number.

Maybe I should call the police and tell them about Brad disappearing, Paulette thought.

Not tonight, she decided. She would wait and see if he showed up at school the next day.

Paulette hurried toward the cafeteria. Maybe Brad would be there.

“Hey, Paulette!” Randy Harris called. “I guess you heard I’m in charge of the Shadyside Follies this year.”

“That’s great,” Paulette said. She smiled at him and kept walking.

“Have you decided what you’ll play in the show this year?” Randy continued.

Paulette stopped and turned back to face him. She had completely forgotten that she’d agreed to play the piano for the annual fund-raiser.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” she admitted. She tried to move past him into the lunchroom, but Randy grasped her arm.

“I really liked that medley of TV theme songs you played last year,” Randy said. “It was really funny, how you made them sound like classical music. You should do something like that again.”

“I’ll think about it,” Paulette told him, not really listening. “Can you do me a favor? Can you tell me if Brad Jones is anywhere in the lunchroom?”

“Sure,” Randy replied. “I see him in the far corner by the outside doors. Want me to take you to him?”

“That’s okay,” Paulette replied.

Paulette decided to get her lunch before she went over to Brad. She needed a minute to figure out what to say to him.

She moved through the lunch line, not even noticing what the servers placed on her plate. Then she took a deep breath and headed for the far corner of the cafeteria.

“Paulette! Come sit with me,” Brad called. He stood and took her tray, then guided her to the table. “I was hoping I’d see you today.”

Paulette waited. She wanted to hear what explanation he had to give before she said anything.

“About last night,” he said. “I’m really sorry I left you in the house. I didn’t mean it to happen that way.”

That’s it? What kind of explanation is that? Paulette wondered.

“I totally panicked,” Paulette said. “I was sure you’d gotten hurt or something. You could have at least called and told me you were okay.”

“I … I’m sorry,” he repeated. “I don’t know what else to say. Something came up. Something that I had to take care of.”

“That’s not good enough. You left me alone in a deserted house!” Paulette cried.

“I know,” he said softly. “There’s no excuse for what I did.”

Brad took both of her hands in his. “You’re so great, Paulette. I’m really glad I met you. But … but I can’t see you anymore,” he said in a rush. “I’m sorry.”

“Will you please make sense?” Paulette demanded. “What are you talking about? Brad, please, just tell me the truth. Tell me what’s going on!”

For a long moment he didn’t answer. Then he took a deep breath. At last, Paulette thought, I’m going to get some answers.

But Brad abruptly dropped her hands. She heard his chair scrape back from the table.

“No!” he said in a choked voice, almost to himself. “No! It’s no good! I can’t let this happen again!”

He rose from the table so quickly that he knocked his chair over. Paulette heard his footsteps rushing away from her.

chapter 10

“I hope you’re ready for the grossest movie they had in the whole store,” Cindy exclaimed. “At least the grossest one they had left,” she added. “On Friday nights, the good movies are always already rented.”

“Grossness doesn’t bother me,” Paulette pointed out. “I can’t see it.”

“But you can hear the blood gush!” Cindy teased.

“This is a really cool movie,” Jonathan added. “I already saw it twice.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cindy demanded. “I would have rented something else.” Paulette heard her pop the movie in the VCR.

“I wanted to see you and Paulette get all scared,” Jonathan answered.

Paulette tried to concentrate on the video, but her mind kept wandering. Usually she enjoyed movies. Even though she couldn’t see the action, she could usually figure out what was going on from the sound effects and dialogue. During quiet scenes, one of her friends always told her what was happening.

Paulette heard Cindy squeal. Guess I missed something scary, she thought.

Paulette knew the movie had something to do with a teenage psycho killer. But that was about it.

All she could think about was Brad. It had been two days since their conversation in the cafeteria. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t come up to her at school.

He could have been sitting at the next table in the library, she thought. I could have passed him in the hall. But it’s pretty easy to avoid a blind girl.

Brad said she was great—but that he couldn’t see her again. What was that about?

“Oh, no!” Cindy suddenly shrieked. “I can’t believe he’s going to do that! Where did he get the hatchet?”

“See?” Jonathan laughed. “I told you it was a cool movie!”

“Paulette, he’s getting ready to chop up both the counselors!” Cindy went on. “While they sleep!”

“Really?” Paulette said, barely listening. “Too bad.”

A few minutes later the music told Paulette the movie was ending. “Great film!” Jonathan said.

“If you like swimming pools full of blood,” Cindy commented. “I can’t believe you’ve seen this movie twice!”

“Three times now,” Jonathan replied. “But who’s counting?”

“Paulette didn’t seem to like it too much,” Cindy said. “I hope you’ll like the next one better,” she added.

“I don’t know,” Paulette said. “I’m not in much of a movie mood tonight. Maybe I’ll call my dad to come get me.”

“No way!” Cindy exclaimed. “You can’t leave now. It’s still early.”

“I just don’t feel like I’m much fun to be around tonight,” Paulette went on.

“What’s wrong?” Jonathan asked. “You’ve seemed a little down all week.”

“Problems with Brad?” Cindy guessed.

Get ready to hear them both say “I told you so,” Paulette thought. “Brad told me he didn’t want to see me again,” she admitted.

“What?” Cindy exclaimed. “What happened?”

“I don’t know,” Paulette answered. “Everything seemed to be going great …”

“Did he say why?” Cindy asked.

“No.” Paulette swallowed hard. “It was so weird. We were talking. Then all of a sudden he said, ‘I can’t let this happen again.’ He ran off. And I haven’t seen him since.”

“Couldn’t let what happen again?” Jonathan asked.

“I don’t know. He didn’t say. I don’t know what’s going on. Maybe he just decided he didn’t want to be with a girl that’s … that’s handicapped.” Paulette felt tears sting her eyes. She blinked them away.

“Or maybe he just didn’t want to get involved with anybody,” Cindy said gently.

“Maybe he realized he’s a geek!” Jonathan added.

“Jonathan, don’t,” Paulette said. “I don’t want to listen to that!”

“I don’t understand why you think he’s so great. Especially after he took off and left you in that house on Fear Street,” Jonathan said.

“Yeah. I would be furious if any guy did that to me,” Cindy agreed.

“Sometimes Brad is so fun to be around,” Paulette told them. “So easy to talk to. But sometimes …”

“Sometimes what?” Cindy asked.

“Sometimes, I don’t know, there is something different about him. I was walking to school and someone shoved me off the curb and into traffic.”

“He did that? Why didn’t you tell me?” Jonathan demanded.

“Oh, no! Were you hurt?” Cindy cried.

Paulette shook her head. “I didn’t mean Brad pushed me,” she answered. “He came running up after it happened. I asked him who shoved me—and he said no one did. He said he could see me from down the block, and that no one came near me.”

“Maybe you just tripped,” Cindy suggested.

“That’s what Brad said,” Paulette replied. “But I felt hands on my back. I know someone pushed me. I just can’t figure out why Brad would lie about what he saw.”

“Whoa!” Jonathan exclaimed. “You’re much better off without that guy.”

“Jonathan’s right,” Cindy said firmly. “I still can’t believe he left you in that house—and couldn’t even give you a good reason. I think Brad is dangerous.”

“But most of the time he was so great,” Paulette protested. “I really liked him.”

“Did you have a good time, dear?” Paulette’s mother called.

“Sure,” Paulette said. She took off her coat and hung it in the hall closet. Then she joined her parents in the living room. “We watched a couple of videos.”

Paulette didn’t feel like talking to her parents about Brad. She knew they would tell her the same thing Cindy and Jonathan did—stay away from him.

“We had some bad news this evening,” her mother told her. “Your grandmother fell and broke some ribs. We’ll need to go into the city the next couple of nights to help her out.”

“Is she okay?” Paulette asked.

“She’s in some pain,” her father replied. “But she’s going to be all right.”

“Tell Grandma I hope she feels better,” Paulette said.

“We will,” Mr. Fox replied. “Your Aunt Jo says you’re welcome to stay over there while we’re gone. Or she can come over here.”

“No,” Paulette replied. “I’ll be okay.”

“We know that,” her mother responded. “But … well, we’ll probably get home really late the next few nights.”

“I don’t mind being alone,” Paulette said. She tried not to sound annoyed. Why did they always treat her like a baby?

“Are you sure?” her mother persisted.

“I’m positive,” Paulette replied. “It’s only for a few hours, anyway.” She turned toward the stairway. “I’m tired. I’m going up to bed.”

Paulette started up the stairs, then paused. “By the way,” she asked, trying to sound casual. “Did I get any calls?”

“None,” replied her mother. “It was a very quiet evening.” She hesitated. “Is there anything you want to talk about, Paulette?”

They know something is wrong, Paulette thought. “No,” she said. “I’m just tired. Thanks anyway. Good night.”

Paulette hurried up to her room and shut the door. They just want to help me, she thought as she got ready for bed. My parents, Cindy, Jonathan. But there’s nothing they can do. There’s nothing anyone can do.

She climbed into bed. When am I going to stop thinking about Brad? she wondered.

Maybe it will be like the time I broke my arm, she decided. It took weeks—but eventually the pieces of broken bone grew back together. Once in a while she still felt a little ache in the spot. But it was easy to ignore.

Paulette began to drift off to sleep. Then a sharp noise jerked her awake. It sounded like wood scraping on wood.

There it was again, louder. Coming from near her window.

Probably just the wind blowing a branch against the side of the house, she thought.

But there wasn’t any wind tonight, she realized.

Paulette heard the scraping sound again. Then a loud thump.

Maybe it’s a squirrel, she thought.

Or maybe it was something else.

Someone has already broken in once, she reminded herself.

She got up and crossed to the open window. She stood there quietly, listening. She didn’t hear anything out of the ordinary.

I’ll shut the window. Just to be on the safe side.

She reached up—and a strong hand seized her by the wrist.

chapter 11

Paulette shrieked.

She tried to pull her arm away. But the intruder tightened his grip on her wrist.

“No!” she cried. “No!”

The intruder yanked her forward. Pulling her halfway out the window.

Paulette grabbed the window frame with her free hand. She dug her fingers into the wood.

The intruder jerked her wrist again.

She held on to the window frame as hard as she could. One of her nails ripped away, shooting pain up her arm.

“Help!” she screamed. “Mom! Dad!”

The intruder loosened his grip. Paulette jerked her arm away. She shoved herself back through the window.

She leaned against her bedroom wall, trying to catch her breath. She heard someone scramble across the porch roof, then drop to the ground. Footsteps pounded down the sidewalk as the intruder ran away.

A moment later her bedroom door burst open. “What’s wrong?” Paulette’s mother cried.

“Paulette—are you all right?” her father demanded.

Paulette slammed the window shut. “I’m … I’m fine,” she said, her voice shaking.

She knew she should tell her parents what had happened. But if she did, they would make her stay with Aunt Jo. What if Brad called while she was there?

“I had a bad dream,” Paulette explained as calmly as she could. “A really bad nightmare. But I’m okay now.”

“Are you sure that’s all it was?” her mother asked. She rushed over and placed her hand on Paulette’s forehead. “You don’t seem to have a fever,” she remarked.

“I’m not sick!” Paulette exclaimed. “Really, everything’s all right.”

“Why are you over by the window?” her father asked.

Paulette blurted out the first thing that came to her head. “When the dream woke me up, I was cold,” she lied. “I must have left the window open. That’s probably why I had the bad dream in the first place.”

She locked the window, then returned to her bed. “I’m sorry I upset you,” she told her parents. “But everything’s all right now. Really.”

Paulette’s mother followed her to her bedside. “Would you like me to stay here with you until you go back to sleep?” she asked. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks anyway, Mom,” Paulette replied. “You guys go on back to bed now.”

“I’m going to check out that window,” Paulette’s father muttered. She heard him opening and reclosing the lock. “Seems to be all right,” he said. “But I wonder why—What’s this?” he exclaimed.

“What?” Paulette asked.

“Let’s see, John,” Paulette’s mother said. “Hey—it’s a man’s ring. Where did you find it?”

“It was on the floor by the window,” Mr. Fox replied. “I wonder how it got here. Paulette, do you recognize this ring?” He pressed the ring into Paulette’s hand.

The ring was still warm from the hand that had worn it. Paulette began to explore the face of the ring with her fingers.

It is a signet ring, she realized. Paulette traced the initials carved on it.

B.J. The initials were B.J.

B.J.—Brad Jones.

Paulette felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle. It’s Brad’s ring. Brad was outside my window.

What was he doing out there? Why didn’t he tell me who he was?

What is going on with him? He told me he couldn’t see me again. Then he shows up here and practically pulls me out the window.

What if he comes back? she thought. What will he do next?

chapter 12

“Do you recognize the ring?” Mr. Fox repeated.

Paulette could hardly think. “It … uh … it belongs to a friend of mine,” she said.

She knew she should tell her parents the truth. But she couldn’t. They would call the police, and Paulette didn’t want that to happen. Not until she figured out what was going on with Brad.

“Anyone we know?” her mother asked.

“My friend Bobby,” she blurted out. “He … he asked me to keep it for him when he went swimming last week.” She hated to lie to her parents, but she had no choice. “I forgot to give it back to him. I think it must have fallen out of my jeans pocket.”

“You’re sure you’re not secretly engaged to some boy, now?” her mother joked.

“Of course not, Mom,” Paulette said. She forced a laugh. “I promise I’ll let you know if I get engaged to anyone. I know you’ll need time to plan the wedding!”

Her parents both leaned down and kissed her good night. Paulette turned over. “Good night,” she said, trying to sound as if she were about to fall asleep.

After her parents left the room, Paulette ran her fingers over and over the face of the ring. Memorizing the marks in it.

Brad’s ring. It was Brad’s ring. And that meant …

It meant that the person at the window had been Brad.

Why did he come here? she thought. He practically jerked me out of the window.

Paulette couldn’t believe Brad wanted to hurt her. I know he likes me, she thought. I could tell how upset he was when he said he couldn’t see me anymore.

This doesn’t make any sense! What’s going on with him? she asked herself again and again.

Maybe Jonathan and Cindy are right, she thought. Maybe Brad is dangerous.

“So how was the first student council meeting?” Jonathan asked the next day after school.

He and Cindy had dragged Paulette over to Pete’s Pizza. They can tell I’m upset, she thought. They’re trying to cheer me up. But it’s not working.

“It was kind of fun,” Cindy replied. “We’re going to make some big changes in the school. You guys should have run for council too.”

“My grades aren’t good enough,” Jonathan said.

“Paulette could have run,” Cindy went on. “She has practically straight A’s. You could still get on, Paulette,” she added. “Jamie Martin’s family is moving to California. There will be an opening.”

“I don’t want to,” Paulette said.

“Why not? You’d get to help plan all kinds of cool activities. It’s fun,” Cindy answered.

“Here comes the pizza,” Jonathan announced.

The smells of hot peppers, mushrooms, and tomato sauce filled the air. Paulette loved mushroom pizza. But today she had no appetite.

Paulette heard the pie tray slide as Jonathan cut into the pizza. He thunked a plate down in front of her.

“Here’s yours,” he told her. “And here’s yours, Cindy. The rest of the pie is for me.”

“Ha-ha,” Cindy said. “You probably would gobble down the whole pie if we let you. Paulette, we’d better eat fast.”

“Ow! I burned my tongue!” Jonathan complained.

“Aren’t you going to eat, Paulette?” Cindy asked.

“I’m not hungry,” she replied.

“Hey, if you were any more down, you’d be under the floor,” Jonathan commented. “Come on, cheer up.”

“You can’t just tell someone to cheer up,” Cindy told him. “That’s like telling someone who is short to get taller.”

“Yeah, but Paulette has been down all week. Am I just supposed to pretend I don’t notice?” Jonathan argued.

“Don’t talk about her like she’s not even here,” Cindy scolded. She reached over and touched Paulette’s arm. “Want to talk about anything?” Cindy asked gently.

Paulette shook her head.

“It’s Brad, isn’t it?” Cindy said.

Paulette didn’t answer. She didn’t feel up to having another conversation about Brad.

“How long has it been since you talked to him?” Jonathan asked.

“Not since that day in the cafeteria I told you about,” Paulette replied.

“I guess you haven’t heard, then,” Jonathan said.

“Jonathan—” Cindy warned.

A cold feeling tightened Paulette’s stomach. What now? she thought. “Tell me, Jonathan!” she demanded. “You guess I haven’t heard what?”

“He dropped out of school,” Jonathan said.

“Oh, no!” Paulette gasped. “When?”

“I just heard about it today,” Jonathan told her.

“It’s going to be okay,” Cindy said. “I know you really cared about him. But he turned out to be a weirdo. The best thing is just to forget about him.”

“I guess,” Paulette answered.

But how can I forget about him? she thought. He was so perfect for me. He loved music as much as I do. And he really understood about my blindness. He knew he didn’t have to feel sorry for me.

The front door of the restaurant slammed. Jonathan grabbed Paulette’s hand and held it so hard that his short fingernails cut into her skin. “What’s wrong?” she demanded.

“Everybody freeze!” shouted a hoarse, rough voice from the front of the store. “This is a holdup!”

chapter 13

“I mean it!” the hoarse voice called. “Stop moving! All of you! Everyone stop what you’re doing and listen to me!”

Paulette heard a couple of chairs scrape back. Someone ran toward the door.

“I said freeze!” the voice repeated.

The footsteps stopped abruptly. The room grew still. Paulette heard a soft whimper from a girl behind her.

“This is a joke, right?” she whispered to her friends. “Someone playing a trick?”

“Shh!” Jonathan whispered back. “It’s real. He’s wearing a mask and he’s got a gun. Be quiet!”

“I want everyone to stay calm and do what I say,” the gunman ordered. “That way no one will get hurt.”

The gunman spoke again. “You, over there. Waiter! I want you to empty the cash register. Put the money in a bag and bring it to me. Move it!”

Paulette heard someone rushing to the counter. The cash register gave a beep and the drawer popped open. A moment later Paulette could hear money dropping into a bag.

“I don’t believe this,” Cindy moaned.

“Quiet!” the gunman shouted. “Now, the rest of you. Empty your pockets on the tables. Take off your watches and jewelry. Now!”

Paulette sat still, stunned. She heard rustling as everyone opened backpacks and pocketbooks. For a moment the loudest sound was that of jewelry and money being placed on the Formica tabletops.

She felt Jonathan squirm as he pulled his wallet from his pocket and placed it on the table. Across from them, Cindy sniffled. Paulette heard her unzip her pack and empty it.

“Go on!” the gunman demanded. “Do it! All of you!”

“Paulette!” Jonathan whispered. “You too!”

Her hands shaking, Paulette reached up and removed her earrings. She took off her braille watch and placed it on the table. Then she began feeling around for her backpack. It had slipped from the seat beside her and was somewhere under the table.

“Hurry up!” the gunman shouted. “I don’t have all day!”

Paulette bent down and groped beneath the table for her backpack.

“You!” the gunman yelled. “The girl with the long hair! What are you doing?”

“Paulette!” Cindy whispered. “He means you!”

Paulette ran her hands over the floor. “I’m trying to find my backpack!” she cried.

“You don’t need to climb under the table!” the gunman shouted. “Just look for it.”

She continued to feel around. Where was it? The guy was going to go crazy if she didn’t find it.

“Hurry up!” the gunman told her.

“She can’t see it!” Jonathan cried. “She’s blind!” Paulette heard him stand up.

“What are you doing? Sit back down!” the gunman yelled.

“I’m just trying to explain—” Jonathan began.

“Shut up,” the gunman interrupted.

Paulette’s hand brushed against one of the straps of her backpack. She heard a loud click. Then a deafening explosion filled her ears.

Jonathan screamed and fell against her.

Paulette’s ears rang. She heard Cindy give a long, high shriek. But her friend’s voice sounded so tiny. So far away.

“He shot him!” Cindy screamed. “He shot Jonathan!”

chapter 14

Jonathan’s body sprawled heavily against Paulette, pinning her to the back of the booth.

“You shot him!” someone shouted.

Jonathan’s dead! Paulette thought.

She wrenched one hand free and placed it on his face. Cold drops of sweat covered his forehead.

“Is he breathing?” Cindy asked.

“I’m trying to tell,” Paulette answered. She positioned her fingers in front of Jonathan’s lips. Nothing.

“I’ll shoot all of you if you don’t do what I say!” the gunman yelled. “You—the girl in red! Take this pack. Go around the room and put all the valuables in it!” he ordered.

“Me?” asked a quavering voice. That’s Ann Johnson, Paulette realized. The shy girl from her Spanish class.

“Yes, you!” the gunman barked. “Move!”

Paulette moved her fingers closer to Jonathan’s lips. She felt a tiny puff of air against her skin. “He’s still breathing,” she whispered to Cindy.

Jonathan gave a low moan. Paulette wrapped her arm around him. “Where did the bullet hit you?”

Jonathan didn’t answer. She felt something warm and wet against her arm. Blood. Jonathan’s blood.

“Hurry up!” the gunman shouted to Ann. Paulette noticed how scared he sounded. How close to panic himself.

“I just have a couple more people to go,” Ann cried.

When is he going to leave? Paulette thought. We have to get Jonathan to the hospital.

Paulette grabbed a handful of napkins off the table. Her fingers shook so hard she dropped them. She felt around for the metal napkin holder and grabbed some more.

She ran her hands over Jonathan. She found the wet spot on his T-shirt. Then she felt his blood spurting under her fingers. She pressed the napkins over the wound and pushed down as hard as she could.

He’s bleeding so much, she thought. She felt blood soak through the napkins. The thin paper shredded under her fingers.

I need something else. My jacket! She pulled it off and jammed it in place.

In the distance she heard the first wail of sirens. Yes! she thought. Someone in the mall must have called the police.

“Hang on, Jonathan,” Paulette whispered. “The police will be here in a second. They’ll take care of you. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

“Give me that!” the robber shouted. She heard his footsteps hurrying across the floor.

Crash! Something heavy hit the floor. Paulette heard a metal pizza plate clatter.

“I’ve got the gun!” someone yelled.

“What’s happening?” Paulette cried.

“Two guys just knocked over a table in front of the robber,” Cindy answered. “They got the gun away from him. Now they’re ripping off his mask!”

“Brad!” someone cried. “Brad! It’s Brad Jones!”

chapter 15

Paulette heard another crash. Someone cried out in pain.

“Brad got away from them!” Cindy told her.

Footsteps pounded past Paulette.

“Stop him!” someone shouted.

Paulette heard the front doors slam. “He’s gone!” a girl cried.

Cindy leaned over Paulette. She gasped. “Jonathan’s bleeding so much!”

“I know,” Paulette answered. She could feel the warm blood soaking through her jacket. “I can’t stop it!”

“The police are here,” Cindy exclaimed. “Our friend got shot!” she yelled.

“You’re going to be okay,” Paulette whispered to Jonathan. It was the only thing she could think of to say. “Don’t worry, Jonathan. You’ll be fine.”

I wonder if he can even hear me, she thought.

Paulette heard people rush toward her. The table scraped back. Then someone lifted Jonathan away from her.

He moaned.

Paulette grimaced. He sounded like he was in so much pain.

She heard one of the police officers radio for an ambulance. “We’re going to get him to the hospital,” he told Paulette.

“How is he?” she asked.

“He’s lost a lot of blood. But it looks as if the bullet hit him high enough to miss his lungs. Maybe he got lucky,” the officer answered.

Paulette released a long sigh. She rubbed her hands on her pants. They felt sticky with Jonathan’s blood.

“Everyone stay in your seats,” another officer called. “You’re all right. You’re safe now. But we’ll need to ask you all some questions.”

The room filled with sounds: sobbing, excited talking, the squawks of radios, a rolling noise as Jonathan was taken outside on a gurney. A moment later a shrill siren split the air.

“He’ll be fine, Paulette. I know he will!” Cindy cried, hugging her.

“I just can’t believe it,” Paulette said. She felt tears burn her eyes. “I can’t believe Jonathan got shot.”

She heard the police officers begin to ask the kids at the table next to the door some questions. “Were you at this table when the robber came in?” asked one officer.

“We were finishing our pizza,” a girl answered. Paulette didn’t recognize her voice. “We were just getting ready to pay. We wouldn’t have been here if it happened five minutes later.”

“Can you tell us what happened?”

“The door slammed open,” the girl said. Paulette could hear her voice shaking. “This guy with a mask came in. He had a gun. He started yelling at us to stay calm and give him our money and jewelry and stuff.”

“Did you recognize him?” the officer’s voice continued.

“Not at first,” the girl replied. “Not until after he shot Jonathan. Then two guys pulled off his mask. And I recognized him. It was Brad—Brad Jones.”

Wait, Paulette thought. It can’t have been Brad. I would have recognized his voice.

She concentrated, remembering every detail of the robbery. As if she were listening to a tape, she heard the gunman’s hoarse voice. Again, she heard Jonathan defending her and his scream when the gunman shot him.

She remembered the gunman’s final words, and his faint scent as he ran past their table. He smelled like cinnamon, she thought.

No, she told herself. It wasn’t Brad. It hadn’t been Brad’s voice. It hadn’t been Brad’s scent. I’m absolutely positive, she thought. It wasn’t Brad.

“Who is this Brad?” the officer continued. “A friend of yours?”

“He’s a guy from school,” the girl answered. “I think he dropped out, though.”

“Did anyone else recognize the gunman?” the other officer called out.

“I did,” a boy answered. “It was definitely Brad.”

Brad. Everyone thought it was Brad.

“Anyone else?” the officer continued.

Three or four other kids spoke up. All of them said that it was Brad. Brad. Brad. Brad.

No, Paulette thought.

“Are you sure it wasn’t just someone who looked like Brad?” the police officer asked.

Paulette heard Cindy shift in her seat. “It was him,” Cindy said. “I’ve seen him at school a bunch of times. It was Brad.”

“Anyone else?” the officer asked.

Paulette took a deep breath. “Excuse me—” she said. She had to stop and clear her throat. It was so dry she could hardly talk. “They’re wrong,” she declared. “It wasn’t Brad.”

“You seem to be the only person who thinks so,” the officer answered. “Can you tell me why?”

“I didn’t see him,” Paulette admitted. “I’m—I’m blind. But I heard him. It wasn’t Brad’s voice.”

“It wasn’t his voice?” the policeman repeated. He sounded doubtful.

“I can recognize voices the way other people recognize faces,” Paulette told the policeman. “It’s one way I tell people apart. I know that it’s Ann Johnson you were talking to a few minutes ago. I could tell by her voice.”

“You’re right,” Ann called out. “It is me, Paulette.”

“Maybe so,” the policeman said. “But all these other people saw the gunman. All of them are quite definite as to his identity.”

“There was one other thing,” Paulette said. She knew that the others would laugh, but she also knew she was right. “When he passed by the table, I … I smelled him. And he didn’t smell like Brad.”

“He didn’t smell like Brad?” a guy asked. He laughed. Several of the others snickered too.

“I know it sounds ridiculous,” Paulette told the officers. “But I’m a hundred percent certain that it wasn’t Brad.”

“I understand,” the officer said. “And thank you for your input. We’ll consider it along with the other evidence and information.”

But Paulette knew that he didn’t believe her. She heard him use his radio to request an arrest warrant for Brad. It was obvious that the police were sure Brad had committed the crime. It was obvious that they wouldn’t even consider any other possibility.

And it was obvious to Paulette that Brad was in terrible, terrible danger.

chapter 16

“I still can’t believe it,” Paulette said that night. She sat on Cindy’s bed, waiting for Jonathan’s mother to call. Mrs. Maddox promised she would let them know what the doctors said.

“Jonathan was only trying to protect me,” Paulette moaned.

“Don’t feel guilty, Paulette,” Cindy said gently. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“If I had just moved a little faster,” Paulette went on. “Or if my backpack hadn’t slipped under the table …”

“Brad is crazy,” Cindy said angrily. “There’s no way you could have stopped him.”

“It wasn’t Brad!” Paulette insisted.

“How can you say that?” Cindy cried. “I saw him do it! So did a dozen other people!”

“I know you think you saw him,” Paulette said. “But you saw someone who looked like him. It wasn’t Brad.”

“Paulette, Brad shot Jonathan!” Cindy cried. “I can’t believe you’re defending him!”

“I’m defending him because he’s innocent!” Paulette shouted back.

Paulette leaned against the pillows on Cindy’s bed. Suddenly she felt exhausted. She wanted to forget that any of this had happened.

The phone rang. Cindy snatched it up. “It’s Mrs. Maddox,” she told Paulette.

Let Jonathan be okay, Paulette prayed.

Cindy smiled. “That’s terrific news,” she said into the phone. “Thanks for calling.” She hung up.

“He’s going to be all right!” Cindy exclaimed. “Jonathan’s mom said the bullet didn’t hit anything vital. He’ll be fine after a few weeks.”

“That’s so great!” Paulette sighed. “If … if anything had happened to Jonathan, I’d never forgive myself.”

“Mrs. Maddox said we could visit Jonathan on the weekend,” Cindy said.

“I can’t wait,” Paulette replied. “I was so worried about him.”

“Me, too,” Cindy said. “I never saw anyone get shot before. The worst thing I ever saw was when my brother broke his ankle skiing.”

“Thanks for letting me come over tonight,” Paulette told her friend. “Somehow I just couldn’t face an empty house after everything that happened.”

“What time did you say your parents will be home?”

“After eleven,” Paulette answered. “They went to see my grandmother.”

“Are you going to tell them what happened?” Cindy asked.

“Well, sure,” Paulette replied. “I mean, it will be on TV and in the papers.”

“I mean are you going to tell them about you and Brad?”

“There is no me and Brad,” Paulette said. “There’s nothing to tell.”

“Well, he’ll probably be arrested soon anyway,” Cindy said. “The truth will come out then.”

Paulette took a deep breath. “He probably doesn’t even know,” she whispered. “He doesn’t know that he’s wanted by the police.”

“Of course he does!” Cindy answered. “He was there. He robbed Pete’s Pizza. He shot Jonathan. When are you going to believe me?”

“Cindy, I’ve got to warn him!” Paulette exclaimed.

“Are you completely crazy?” Cindy cried.

“Cindy, it’s not fair. The police are after him and he might not even know! I’ve got to tell him.”

“Why? So he can run away?” Cindy asked.

“So he’ll—he’ll be prepared,” Paulette said.

“Why does he need to be prepared if he’s innocent?” Cindy demanded.

“I don’t know,” Paulette replied. “I just know I have to do something to help him. If I don’t, I think I really will go crazy.”

“But you told me you don’t even know where he lives,” Cindy reminded her.

“He works nights at the Academy,” Paulette said. “I’ll have to go down there. Can you drive me?”

“Now I know you’re nuts!” Cindy said. “The Academy is closed. You want me to drive you there now?”

“It’s the only way I can find Brad!” Paulette cried.

“Paulette, you’re not making any sense!” Cindy exclaimed. “I mean, you’re a smart girl. But you’re—like someone else where Brad is concerned.”

“I have to help him,” Paulette told her.

“Well, you shouldn’t!” Cindy exploded. “You should be hoping the police catch him!”

Paulette knew Cindy couldn’t accept the fact that the sound of a voice and a smell told Paulette as much as seeing a person told Cindy.

“You’ve said yourself how weird Brad acts sometimes,” Cindy went on. “What about the phone call he made? What about leaving you alone in that deserted house?”

“Cindy, you think I’m saying Brad is innocent because I like him. That’s not it at all. I’m saying he’s innocent because I know it wasn’t him. I know.”

“I’m not taking you,” Cindy said.

“If you don’t drive me, I’ll go by myself. I’ll take the bus or walk if I have to.”

“All right, I’ll do it,” Cindy reluctantly agreed. “But I think you’re making a big mistake.”

“The Academy is almost completely dark,” Cindy said. They hurried up to the old building. “I see only a few lights on in some rooms over on the side.”

“Those are the practice rooms,” Paulette told her. “People can rent them at night.”

Paulette tried the front door. Locked. She led Cindy around the building and through an unlocked door to the practice rooms and office.

“I don’t see anyone,” Cindy said.

“Shh!” Paulette whispered. “I hear someone coming. Maybe it’s Brad!”

“I don’t see anyone, but—oh, wait, it’s an old man.”

“May I help you, ladies?” the man asked.

“Hi, Professor Chapin,” Paulette said, recognizing his voice. “We were looking for a friend of mine who works here, Brad Jones. Have you seen him?”

“Not today,” Professor Chapin said. “In fact, Brad didn’t show up for work today. The head janitor was angry.”

“Are you sure?” Paulette gasped. “I mean—did he call in or anything?”

“He didn’t get in touch at all. You’d have to talk to the janitor about that, though. And he’s gone for the evening.”

“Oh,” Paulette said. “Well, thank you.”

“Come on, Paulette,” Cindy said gently. “Let’s go home.”

“I can’t believe it,” Paulette whispered when Professor Chapin walked away. “I was sure Brad would be here.”

“He wasn’t here because he was out robbing Pete’s Pizza,” Cindy said.

Paulette ignored her. “Let’s check out the locker room before we go. Maybe we can find his address, or his phone number, or something.”

“Paulette—give up! There’s no way Brad didn’t do the robbery, and there’s no way you can help him!”

“Please, Cindy,” Paulette said. “We’re already here. Let’s at least check out his locker. If we don’t find anything, I’ll give up.”

“Okay,” Cindy agreed with a sigh. “Not that I really have a choice.”

“Come on.” She pulled Cindy down the hall. Paulette knew that the staff lockers were in a small room next to the students’ lockers.

She knocked on the door. When there was no answer, she turned the doorknob, praying it was unlocked. The door swung open and Paulette led Cindy into the tiny alcove. The small space had a musty smell, like old sweat socks.

“Let me find a light,” Cindy muttered. Paulette heard a click. “It’s really filthy in here,” Cindy remarked.

“Do they have names on the lockers?” Paulette asked Cindy anxiously. “Can you tell which one is Brad’s?”

“Just a minute,” Cindy said. She took Paulette’s hand and placed it on a locker. “Here, this one. It says Jones. And it doesn’t have a lock on it.”

Paulette hesitated, then pulled it open. She reached inside, felt around. Her fingers closed on a file folder. There was nothing else inside the locker.

She handed the folder to Cindy. “What’s in it? What does it say?”

Paulette heard paper crinkling as her friend examined the contents. “It’s a bunch of old newspaper clippings,” Cindy said. “They’re from Springfield papers. They …” She stopped. “Oh, no!” she gasped. “I don’t believe it!”

chapter 17

“What?” Paulette cried. “What is it? Cindy, tell me what the papers say!”

“Oh, Paulette,” Cindy moaned. “I almost don’t want to tell you, but … but the clippings prove that you were wrong about Brad.”

“What do you mean?”

“Listen to this,” Cindy went on. “‘Southside police announced a new lead in the string of armed robberies of small businesses,’” she read. “‘They are reportedly looking for a high school senior who attends Dewey High School in the area.’”

“Does it give a name?” Paulette asked, feeling a chill creep down her back.

“No, but the next article does,” Cindy answered. “‘Honor Student Arrested In Southside Robberies,’” she read. “‘Southside police arrested Brad Jones, an honor student at Dewey High School, in a string of armed robberies dating back to February first. Jones, apprehended at his home, gave up without a struggle, but maintained his innocence.’”

“Oh, no!” Paulette cried. She sank onto the bench below the lockers. “I don’t believe it,” she uttered in a small voice.

“There’s more,” Cindy continued. “According to the articles, Brad was also a suspect in a bunch of house break-ins.” Paulette heard the papers rustle as Cindy scanned through them.

“If he was arrested in Springfield, then how did he get to Shadyside?” Paulette asked. “Why isn’t he in jail?”

“That’s here too,” Cindy said. “According to the last article, they let him out on bail because he was an honor student and had no previous record. He jumped bail and disappeared. The article says it happened just before the beginning of the school year.”

“No,” Paulette murmured.

“I’m sorry,” Cindy said. “For your sake, I wish it wasn’t true.”

This is a nightmare, Paulette thought. This isn’t real, none of it.

But she knew that it was real, knew that everything Cindy said must be true.

“How could I have been so wrong?” Paulette moaned, her voice breaking. “I’m so good at recognizing voices and smells.”

“You really liked him,” Cindy said comfortingly. “You just didn’t want to believe Brad could do something like that. I wouldn’t either.”

“In other words, I was stupid.”

“No, you just believed what you wanted to believe. Everyone does that sometimes,” Cindy replied.

Paulette stood. Her legs felt as if they wouldn’t hold her. “I want to go home now,” she told Cindy.

“Me too,” Cindy agreed. “It’s been a long, long night.”

Paulette could not fall asleep. It was late when she heard her parents come home. She started to check her braille watch, but then remembered it had been taken in the robbery.

She heard a soft tap on her door. “Paulette?” It was her mother’s voice. “Are you asleep, honey?”

For a moment she considered answering, telling her mother everything that had happened. But she didn’t want her parents to know how upset she was.

She turned over, as if she were in deep sleep. A moment later she heard her mother move away down the hall.

Mom would agree with Cindy and the police, Paulette thought. She would believe what people saw. No one really understands how strong my other senses are.

Except Brad, she remembered. He really did seem to understand.

The phone rang, jarring her from her thoughts. She snatched it up. “Hello?”

“Paulette?”

It was Brad. “H-hi,” she cried, shocked and relieved.

“I’m sorry to call so late. It was my only chance. I—I had to talk to you.”

“Brad, the police—”

“I know,” he said. “I know all about it. I know about the robbery, and that they think I did it. I guess … I guess I should have known all along.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

He didn’t answer for a moment.

What is he thinking? she wondered. Is he trying to decide if he can trust me?

“Brad, are you still there?” Paulette said.

“I’m sorry. I wish I could tell you everything. Someday, maybe I’ll be able to. But for now—I just want you to know that I’m innocent.”

“I told the police that, and—”

“I know how things look,” he interrupted her. “And they might get worse. A lot worse. But no matter what happens, please believe in me. Please believe that I didn’t do it. Promise me.”

“I promise, Brad,” she whispered.

“I have to go now,” he said. “I don’t know when I’ll be able to talk to you again. But I promise I’ll be in touch again, as soon as I can.”

“All right,” she agreed. There were a million things she wanted to ask him. But there was no time.

“There’s one more thing, Paulette. It’s very, very important.”

“Yes?” Paulette asked.

“I don’t quite know how to say this, but … things may happen in the next few days. I can’t say more. Except … you must be careful, Paulette. Please—be very, very careful.”

chapter 18

“We’re getting ready to leave,” Paulette’s mother called from the back porch. “Your father and I really wish you’d come along.”

“I know, Mom,” Paulette answered. She was stretched out on a lounge chair in the backyard. “But I’ve got a ton of homework. Tell Grandma hi for me and I hope she feels better.”

“We will,” Mrs. Fox agreed. “But … well, we don’t like to leave you alone, after the robbery.”

“The robbery happened in another part of town. And it wasn’t even a house that got robbed,” Paulette reminded her.

“Well, all right,” her mother said. “But be careful. And if you need anything, Aunt Jo is just a phone call away.”

“Thanks,” Paulette answered. “I’ll see you guys tonight.”

“We shouldn’t be much later than ten,” her father called.

“That’s fine,” Paulette replied. “Stay as long as you want.”

She heard her parents hurry down the steps. Then she heard the sound of the car doors opening and slamming shut, and the engine revving up.

She leaned back in the lounge chair and let herself relax. She’d been afraid that her parents would make her stay with her aunt. And she didn’t want to be anywhere but at home, near her phone. Even though Brad said he might not be able to call her for a while, she wanted to be here in case he did.

She tilted her face up to the sun. It was a warm day for fall, and the heat felt good on her skin. Too bad she couldn’t just sunbathe and daydream. But she really did have homework.

With a sigh, she reached for her portable tape recorder. She slipped in a tape and pressed the play button.

“Rivers and the Western Expansion,” a tinny male voice began. “In North America, most of the largest rivers flow from North to South. In the United States, the Mississippi River system includes the Missouri …”

Paulette punched the stop button. Then she hit rewind and began to play the tape again from the beginning. Pay attention, she told herself. She held a topographic map in her hands and she tried to follow the rivers the narrator described with her fingertips.

But it was no use. She couldn’t make herself concentrate. American history was one of her best subjects. But today the tape might as well have been in Martian.

It’s too nice a day to study, she thought. She loved it out in the backyard. I bet Brad would really like it here too, she thought. She realized that he had never even been over to her house. Now, maybe he never would be.

Where was he? she wondered. Did he leave town to get away from the police? Maybe he ran off to some big city where no one knew him. Maybe she’d never see him again.

But he had promised he’d be in touch. He told her that he would call her again when he could. He asked her to believe he was innocent.

And she did. She felt sure he had not been the robber. But she didn’t know what to think about his strange behavior.

She slipped her hand into her pocket and grasped Brad’s signet ring. She’d been carrying it with her since the night her father found it on the bedroom floor.

Could it have been Brad trying to break into her room that night? Was he dangerous? Paulette had never been so confused in her life.

Paulette clicked on the tape recorder again. She tried to concentrate on the facts and figures about the western rivers.

Crunch!

She jumped. What was that? She clicked off the tape. She lifted her head, straining to hear.

The sound was not repeated. Maybe a walnut fell out of the tree, she thought. She turned the tape back on.

Crunch. Crunch.

Footsteps, she realized. Footsteps moving through the dry grass. It must be one of the neighbors, Paulette thought.

“Who’s there?” she called. “Mr. Bevelman, is it you?”

The footsteps continued. They moved around the yard. She heard what sounded like something being dragged.

Paulette’s stomach tightened. “Please,” she repeated. “Who’s there? I’m blind. I can’t see you.”

The footsteps stopped. But no one answered.

Maybe it’s a dog, she thought. Or a stray cat.

“Are you still there?” she asked again.

She didn’t hear anything now.

“This isn’t funny,” she called. She hoped she sounded braver than she felt.

She switched off the tape player. She stuffed the player and map into her tote bag, then stood. “If you want to say something to me, say it,” she said. “If not, I’m going inside.”

She hadn’t brought her cane with her, because she didn’t need it here. She knew every inch of her backyard. She headed along the flagstone path that led to the porch. She reached out for the guide railing that her father had placed alongside the path years ago.

The railing wasn’t there. Was she in the wrong place?

She turned back to the lounge chair, reoriented herself, and started over. When she arrived at the spot where the railing should be, she reached out and felt for it.

It wasn’t there. Maybe I went a few steps too far, she thought. She groped around. But there was no railing.

She stretched her arms out in front of her and reached for the wooden picnic table that stood to one side of the porch.

She couldn’t find it.

She was totally disoriented. She felt her heart begin to race.

Don’t panic, she told herself.

She reached out, seeking the feel of something familiar. Anything that would help her find her way back into the house.

Paulette took a deep breath and headed in the direction she thought the house was. Her ankle struck something hard. And she felt herself falling.

She landed on the grass. The dry blades scratched her bare skin.

And then she heard it.

The sound of someone breathing.

Someone very close.

chapter 19

Paulette froze. Too frightened to do anything. Too frightened to say anything.

Someone is after me! she thought. And I can’t find my way to the house. I’m trapped!

But then a calmer part of her took over. I can’t start feeling sorry for myself, she thought. I’m blind, but I’m not helpless.

I know this yard perfectly well. I’ve lived here since I was a baby. All I need to do is find something familiar. One thing. And then it will be easy to get into the house!

She turned toward the sound of breathing. “Who’s there?” she demanded. “I hear you. Who are you?”

The breathing continued.

“I’m not afraid of you!” she declared.

She began to crawl, very slowly, very carefully. Her hands and fingers alert for anything familiar.

Her hand touched a smooth paving stone. The back walkway, she realized. It led directly to the back porch.

She pushed herself to her feet, her legs trembling. Slowly she made her way toward the house.

She tried to appear confident. But she knew that whoever was in the yard could grab her, could trip her. Even follow her into the house.

She continued along the walk.

There was nothing in her way.

Nobody tried to stop her.

She climbed the porch steps. She gripped the railing so tightly that it shook.

Then she reached the doorway. Unlocked the door. Entered.

Slammed the door shut and locked it.

She was inside.

She was safe.

She slipped the safety chain on the door, then rushed to the front of the house and did the same with the front door. She made sure every window was locked.

If only she could see who was in the backyard. If only she could know who it was.

She sank into the soft cushions of the family room couch and punched in Cindy’s number.

“Paulette, what’s wrong?” Cindy cried as soon as Paulette said hello. “You sound terrible!”

“Someone was in the yard!” Paulette gasped, trying not to sound hysterical. “I think he was stalking me! Can you come over? Now?”

“I’m on my way!” her friend replied.

Paulette switched on the TV for company. Cindy will be here in a couple of minutes, she thought.

A minute later, she heard her friend hurrying up the front steps. Cindy must have run the whole way, Paulette thought.

Paulette let her in, then closed the door behind her and locked it. She quickly slid the chain in place.

“What’s wrong?” Cindy asked. “Paulette, what happened? You sounded so scared on the phone.”

“Before I tell you, Cindy, please look out the window into the backyard. Tell me what you see.”

Cindy crossed to the window. “Nothing special,” she announced.

“Is my guide rail in its regular place?” Paulette asked.

“Everything looks totally normal,” Cindy replied. “Why? What’s going on?”

Her voice still shaking, Paulette told Cindy exactly what had happened.

“I don’t believe it!” Cindy cried. “He must have put everything back!”

“I guess,” Paulette agreed.

“Paulette, you have to call the police,” Cindy said.

“Why? I don’t know who it was. And they didn’t hurt me,” Paulette reminded her.

“But they were showing you that they could hurt you,” Cindy said. “Besides, I think you have a good idea who it was.”

For a moment, Paulette didn’t answer. “You think it was Brad, don’t you?” she finally asked.

“What’s that?” Cindy cried. “Do you hear that sound?”

“It’s sirens,” Paulette said. “Really near here. Only about a block away.”

“I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here alone,” Cindy went on. “It’s getting dark. I think you should come spend the night at my house.”

“You sound like my parents,” Paulette muttered.

“I’d stay with you, except I have to baby-sit my brother,” Cindy continued.

“I’ll be all right,” Paulette exclaimed. “I made sure all the windows are locked. And I’ll lock the door behind you.”

Now that she was inside and Cindy was with her, she felt perfectly safe.

“I really appreciate your coming over,” Paulette said to Cindy. “But I’m fine now.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” Cindy said. Then she gasped. “Hand me the remote,” she ordered. Paulette passed it over. She heard Cindy click it.

The volume on the TV grew louder. “—A special bulletin from News Center Nine,” said a calm woman’s voice. “Channel Nine has just learned that there’s been an armed robbery at Uncle Sandy’s Convenience Store on Highland Street.”

“That’s just a couple of blocks from here!” Cindy cried.

“According to the police, the descriptions match those of the person who held up Pete’s Pizza yesterday afternoon. Police have released the name of the suspect. It is former Shadyside High School student Brad Jones.”

chapter 20

“No!” Paulette whispered, as if she could somehow change what she had just heard.

“It’s Brad!” Cindy cried. “They’re showing his picture on the screen!”

Paulette leaned forward in her seat, straining to hear the rest of the news report.

“When police checked the address Jones had given school authorities,” the newswoman went on, “they found that the address didn’t exist. Police have issued an all points bulletin for Jones. Anyone who sees him should phone the special number you see at the bottom of your screen. Citizens are warned not to approach the suspect. He is armed and believed to be dangerous. We repeat—”

Paulette grabbed the remote and clicked it off. “No,” she murmured. “No, please no.”

“It’s definitely Brad,” Cindy said. “The police are after him, Paulette. They’re after him for both robberies.”

“I just can’t believe …”

“I know,” Cindy said. “But you have to believe it now. He’s committed two crimes. And he shot Jonathan! Let’s just hope they find him before he hurts someone else.”

“Or gets hurt himself,” Paulette muttered.

“You’ve got to come home with me now,” Cindy went on. “I can’t let you stay alone after this.”

“I don’t want to leave,” Paulette insisted. “What if Brad calls?”

“What makes you think he’ll call?” Cindy asked. “If he wanted to speak to you, he could have said something when he was in your backyard.”

“I don’t believe that was Brad,” Paulette said. “Anyway, I don’t want to be away from the phone.”

“Well, I can’t stay here,” Cindy said. “How about if I call you later?”

“Fine,” Paulette answered. “And thanks for coming over, Cindy. I really appreciate it.”

As soon as her friend left, Paulette quickly locked the door and reset the security chain. She checked the rest of the house, making sure each of the windows was locked.

Then she returned to the living room and switched the television back on. The special news bulletin had ended. A talk show host was interviewing men who dated their wives’ best friends.

She turned the TV off, stood, and paced around the living room. Finally she sat at the piano and opened it. Since she was a child, playing the piano had helped calm her when she was upset.

Maybe it will work now, she thought.

She played a few scales to loosen up, then began to work on her piece for the recital. For a few moments she began to relax, to lose herself in the music.

She was running through the piece for the third time when the phone rang.

“Must be Cindy,” she said. “Checking up on me.”

She grabbed the portable handset and switched it on. “Hello?”

“Paulette … it’s me.”

Brad. But his voice was hoarse and faint. It sounded as if he were calling from very far away. “Brad!” she cried.

“You sound … surprised to hear from me.”

“I—I am surprised,” she admitted. “Surprised and relieved. Where are you? What’s going on?”

“Never mind where I am for now,” he said. “I … I’m calling to apologize.” The last word was choked out. She heard what sounded like a weak gasp.

“Apologize? For what? Brad, you sound so weak. Are you all right?”

“Now that I’m talking to you, I’m fine,” he said. But his voice sounded so faint. Paulette had to strain to hear him at all.

He didn’t say anything else. “You … you told me you wanted to apologize,” she reminded him.

“That’s right,” he said. “I should have told you the truth before.”

“The truth? The truth about what?”

“About my brother.”

“Your brother?”

“I have a twin brother, Paulette,” he admitted. “An identical twin.”

“A twin …” Paulette repeated.

“We look alike, Paulette. We sound a lot alike. People can’t tell us apart.”

This explains so much, Paulette thought.

“His name is Ed,” Brad said weakly. “Ed is disturbed. He’s … he’s been jealous of me our whole life. He’s always wanted anything that I had. He’s made trouble for me everywhere we’ve lived.”

“No,” Paulette murmured.

“It’s true. I didn’t want to tell you,” Brad said, his voice sounding weaker.

“But, why?” Paulette demanded. “I would have understood.”

“No,” Brad murmured. “It’s not that. The truth is that I didn’t want Ed to be a part of my life anymore. I moved to Shadyside because the police were after me in Springfield. They were after me for something Ed did.”

Paulette remembered the newspaper clippings she and Cindy had found in Brad’s locker. “Oh, Brad,” she cried. “How terrible!”

“I thought when I came here I’d be through with him. That I could start over. I even forged transcripts so I could go to school here,” Brad told her. “But I was wrong. There’s no way I can get away from Ed. No way.”

“He followed you here?” Paulette asked.

“I don’t know how, but he arrived here almost as soon as I did. And he … he saw you first.” Brad hesitated. “He decided he wanted you for his girlfriend.”

“But I don’t even know him!” Paulette protested.

“That doesn’t matter to Ed,” Brad replied. “As far as he was concerned, you were his. Then, when you and I started seeing each other, he couldn’t stand it. He told me he’d never let me have you. He said he’d rather see you dead.”

“I don’t believe it!” Paulette gasped.

“I realized I had to break it off with you, to protect you,” Brad went on. “But by that time it was too late. Ed had become obsessed with you. And he was furious with you for choosing me over him.”

“All those times I thought you were acting strange …”

“It was Ed,” Brad said. “He told me he called you. He told me he’s been following you. Spying on you. I’m sorry, Paulette, so sorry.”

“Ed was the one who did the robberies, then?” she asked.

“Yeah,” Brad replied. “When I heard about them, I knew I would be blamed. Ed always set it up so that I would get blamed for things he did. I knew I had to get away. But Ed followed me. We fought.”

“Where is he now?” Paulette whispered.

“I don’t know,” Brad admitted. “He hurt me. I … I need help.”

“You need a doctor?” Paulette cried. “I’ll call the police. Then I’ll—”

“No!” Brad rasped, his voice hoarser than ever. “The police can’t know! If they find me, I’ll be arrested. I’ll never straighten it out. I’ve got to find a way to stop Ed first. Then I can call the police.”

“But he’s dangerous, Brad. You—”

“I understand him,” Brad interrupted. “I know how to deal with him. But I need your help, Paulette. I can’t do it alone. Will you help me?”

Paulette didn’t answer for a moment. She could hear her blood pounding in her ears. “Yes,” she whispered. “Yes, I’ll help you.”

“I knew I could count on you,” he said.

“Brad—I can hardly hear you!” Paulette cried.

“I feel weak,” he murmured. “So weak … Please come here … to the house on Fear Street …”

“Brad, I—”

“Please come,” he repeated. “I’m waiting for you, Paulette. I’m …”

But he didn’t finish the sentence. There was a click, and the line went dead.

chapter 21

“Brad!” Paulette called frantically. “Brad, are you there?”

No answer. Only the steady hum of the dial tone.

Paulette hung up. I was right about Brad all along, she thought. I knew he didn’t hold up Pete’s. And I knew there was something strange about the way he acted.

She shivered as she remembered the times she’d spoken to Ed, thinking it was Brad. She thought back to the day when she’d fallen into the street.

No, not fallen, she told herself. Pushed. Ed pushed me. He tried to kill me!

She remembered how he had pulled back when she tried to touch his face. He hadn’t wanted her to touch him. He was afraid I would realize he wasn’t Brad.

And I would have, Paulette thought. Ed wouldn’t have that little scar by his eye that Brad does.

Brad. She needed to get to the house on Fear Street right away. She would have to take the bus. There was no one around to drive her.

And even if there was, she didn’t trust anyone not to turn Brad in. I have to do this alone, she decided.

I hope Brad is all right, Paulette thought as the bus rumbled down Old Mill Road. She remembered how weak his voice had sounded. How weak and hoarse.

He sounded like Ed! Paulette realized. Every time I thought Brad was acting strange, his voice sounded huskier. That’s because it wasn’t Brad at all.

“Fear Street!” the driver called out. The bus creaked to a stop and Paulette climbed out and started down the sidewalk.

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

She moved slowly, carefully. She remembered what Brad had said about the rough spots, the potholes. She had to be especially careful not to fall or lose her way. If anything happened to her, she wouldn’t be able to help Brad.

It’s taking me forever to get to the house, she thought. It seemed so much quicker that night with Brad.

Paulette thought of all the stories she’d heard about Fear Street. About the murders, the ghosts, the strange happenings. She hated walking down the street all alone.

It’s just a street! she told herself. People live here. Ordinary, normal people.

Paulette crossed the street. Only one more block to go, she told herself.

She heard someone cough behind her.

She felt the back of her neck prickle. Was someone watching her?

Was it Ed? Watching her? Following her?

Ed had been in her backyard. I know it, she told herself. Gazing at her, knowing that she could not see him. That he could do anything he pleased. That there was no way she could protect herself.

Was he following her now?

No, she decided. You’re nervous being out here on Fear Street all alone. Don’t imagine things.

She held her breath and listened carefully, straining every sense. She didn’t hear another cough. No footsteps. No one breathing.

Paulette picked up her pace. What if I went too far? she thought. What if I passed the house? I’ll end up in the Fear Street cemetery.

Tap. Tap-tap. Tap-tap.

Her cane struck something soft. The sidewalk had ended. Again Paulette felt a moment of panic. Did I reach the cemetery?

She forced herself to relax. This must be the broken stretch of pavement in front of the house where Brad is staying, she told herself.

She picked her way along the broken sidewalk for seventeen steps, then turned into the yard. She felt the weeds and dried grass brush her ankles. It’s twenty-five steps to the front porch, she remembered.

Her cane told her she had reached the front steps. She stopped and listened. She didn’t hear any sounds from the house. The entire neighborhood felt deserted.

Could Brad really be inside? she wondered.

He must be.

She tapped her way up the five steps, then carefully crossed the splintered porch to the door.

It stood slightly ajar. Taking a deep breath, Paulette pushed it open and stepped inside.

“Brad?” she called out. “Brad, I’m here!”

Her own voice echoed back to her from the emptiness of the house.

“Brad, where are you?” she called, louder. “Brad, it’s Paulette! Tell me where you are!”

No answer.

He must have passed out, she thought. He sounded really weak on the phone.

She paused a moment, trying to picture the house from the last time she had been there. The staircase is down the short hallway, she remembered.

She began to tap her way toward the staircase. She could hear the banging of a loose shutter. A breeze told her that a window was open somewhere.

“Brad!” she called again. “Brad! Please, answer me!”

She heard a high, pained cry.

The sound came again. She realized it was only the squeaking hinges of a rusty shutter. “Brad!”

Her cane struck a large obstacle. She reached out. It’s the banister, she thought. I reached the stairs.

She stood, listening carefully. She didn’t hear anything but the creaking of the old house.

Maybe Ed came back. Maybe he found Brad unconscious and dragged him away. Maybe …

Stop, Paulette ordered herself.

“Brad! Brad!” She knew her voice was beginning to sound panicky, but she couldn’t help it. Where was he?

She heard a moan. Faint, but definitely a moan. It came from above her. From somewhere upstairs.

“Brad!” she called again. “It’s Paulette! I’m here! I’m by the staircase!”

“I’m up here,” he called. So softly she could barely hear him. “Help me, Paulette!”

“I’m coming!” she responded.

She reached out with her cane and climbed to the first step. She remembered what Jonathan had told her about the staircase, that it was crumbling and dangerous.

She stayed to one side, one hand on her cane, the other holding the banister for support. The banister was loose. It wobbled under her hand.

She moved her hand along the banister inch by inch. Climbing slowly, step by step.

Her cane told her that one whole step was missing. She tapped upward. The next step felt firm. She carefully climbed onto it.

At last she reached the top of the stairs. A musty scent filled her nostrils. She wondered how long this house had been deserted.

“Brad?” she called.

“In here,” he moaned. “Down the hall.”

She followed his voice. She reached a doorway.

“Here,” Brad cried weakly. “I’m in here. Come on in.”

Paulette pushed through the door.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t come,” he murmured. His voice was so hoarse, she could hardly make out his words. “I was afraid Ed would come back before you got here.”

“Brad, you’re hurt. We have to get help for you!” She began to move toward him, tapping along the dusty, uneven floor.

“No!” he cried. “Not now!”

“Where are you hurt? Let me see if I can help.” She reached toward him. “Brad, let me help you!”

“Later,” Brad said, his voice hoarser than ever. “We can’t waste any time.”

“What are you talking about?” she demanded. “The most important thing is to get a doctor. How did you call me? Do you have a cell phone?”

“Yes,” Brad replied. “But it won’t help us now. We have to do it ourselves.”

“Do what?” she cried. “You’re not making sense, Brad. Where are you hurt?”

“Never mind that now,” Brad said. “Listen to me! Ed hid the money and jewelry from the robberies somewhere in this house. He told me he’d be back for them.”

“Oh, no!” Paulette cried. “How long ago did he leave?”

“About an hour. He’ll be back any minute. You have to help me trap him, Paulette.”

“Forget that!” Paulette exclaimed. “We have to get out of here! Can you walk?”

“No,” Brad said. “At least not far. Not fast. We’ll have to deal with him here.”

“If we can’t leave, let’s call the police!” Paulette cried. “Tell them what you told me. They can handle it.”

“He’s too tricky,” Brad responded. “He’ll find a way to make me take the blame. We have to trap him first. Then we’ll bring in the police.”

“I understand how you feel,” Paulette said. “But—”

“No!” Brad interrupted. “You don’t understand. You don’t know what it’s like to go through your whole life with someone jealous of you. Someone who hates you so much he’d do anything to ruin your life. He can’t be trusted, Paulette. I need your help to stop him.”

“But what can I do?” Paulette protested.

“When we hear the front door open, you call to him. Tell him that you’re up here,” Brad said. “He’s obsessed with you. As soon as he hears your voice, he’ll run in here. He won’t stop to think about where I am. I’ll overpower him and we’ll tie him up.”

Paulette hesitated. Somehow it seemed much more important to get help for Brad than to trap Ed.

“Please, Paulette. Please say you’ll do it,” Brad begged.

“Okay,” Paulette agreed. “But how can you fight him? You’re hurt.”

“It’s not that bad,” Brad replied. “I’m feeling much better now.”

“But—”

“Shh!”

Paulette heard the front door creaking open. Then footsteps coming into the house.

“Paulette? Paulette, are you here?” a husky voice cried.

“Now!” Brad whispered.

chapter 22

“I’m moving right next to the door,” Brad whispered. She heard him quietly cross the room and shut the door. “I’ll be able to knock him out as soon as he opens it,” Brad went on. “Go on—tell him you’re up here!”

“But—”

“Do it!” Brad insisted.

“Here!” Paulette croaked. She cleared her throat and shouted, “It’s me, Paulette. I’m up here!”

She heard footsteps running up the stairs, then the pounding of feet in the hallway. She backed against the far wall. She held her breath.

I hope Brad is fast enough, Paulette thought. Ed will go crazy when he figures out I helped trap him.

“Paulette!” Ed called from outside the room.

“In here!” Paulette repeated. “Hurry!”

Bang! The door burst open.

Paulette heard a sickening thwack! Then the thump of a body hitting the floor.

“I got him!” Brad cried hoarsely. “That was perfect! Now all we have to do is tie him up.”

“Is he—is he badly hurt?” Paulette asked.

“Who cares?” Brad said. “The important thing is that he won’t cause me any more trouble.”

Ed moaned, and Paulette felt sick. Brad had to do it, she reminded herself. Ed attacked him first.

She heard Brad cross the room again. He took her hand and led her to the doorway. He pressed a length of rope into her hand.

“Take this,” he said. “I’ll watch him while you tie his hands and feet. That way if he comes to, I can hit him again. Do you think you can do it?”

“Yes,” Paulette murmured. She knelt beside Ed. She could hear his raspy breath. She reached out to touch his head to see how badly he was hurt.

“You only have a few seconds!” Brad urged her. “Tie him before he wakes up!”

Paulette remembered how dangerous Ed was. I can find out how badly he’s hurt after I tie him up, she decided.

She grabbed his hands and pulled them together. She shivered. They felt exactly like Brad’s hands.

“Hurry!” Brad called.

Paulette looped the rope around Ed’s wrists several times in a figure eight.

“Good!” Brad exclaimed. “Now tie a tight knot.”

Paulette’s hands had begun to shake, making it harder to maneuver the rope. But at last she finished. “I’m done,” she said.

“Tie his feet,” Brad directed.

Ed moaned loudly. “Go on!” Brad said impatiently. “Good—now tie a good, strong knot.”

“Done,” Paulette announced. Brad pulled her to her feet.

“I’m going to move him to the other side of the room,” Brad said. “Then we’ll tie him to the heater.”

Paulette heard thumping as Brad dragged his brother across the wooden floor. Ed moaned again. Then he gasped. “Oh, no!” he cried. “It’s you!”

It’s incredible, Paulette thought. He sounds so much like Brad now that Brad’s voice is so weak and husky.

“That’s right,” Brad told his brother. “It’s me. We’ve been waiting for you.”

“Paulette!” Ed exclaimed, his voice weak. “What are you doing here?”

“I told her everything,” Brad said.

“What do you mean?”

“I told her who we are, all about our past,” Brad answered.

“Does she know you were responsible for the robberies?” Ed demanded. “Does she know you’re the one who shot her friend? Does she know—”

“I’ve told her everything, Ed,” Brad replied. “Everything. And she agreed to help me trap you.”

“No!” Ed cried. “No! Paulette, he’s lying to you!”

“Shut up—” Brad began.

“Listen to me!” Ed shouted weakly. “Paulette, he’s tricked you! He’s Ed! I’m Brad!”

chapter 23

He’s Ed. I’m Brad.

No! Paulette thought. No, that can’t be true!

“Paulette, listen to me!” the boy on the floor cried again. “He’s been lying to you all along! I’m Brad!”

The boy who was standing laughed. “Don’t listen to him, Paulette,” he said. “I told you how crazy he is. Now he’s trying to make you think that he’s me.”

Paulette backed away from both boys. Her knees shook. She leaned against a wall.

The boy on the floor, the one she’d tied up, sounded like Brad.

But so did the other boy, the boy she’d been talking to.

They both sounded like Brad.

“Don’t listen to Ed,” the standing boy said. “He’s dangerous. He’s always been able to get his way by lying.”

“That’s true!” shouted the boy on the floor. “And he’s lying now! He’s trying to trick you!”

“Ed is evil,” the standing boy cried. “He’s evil, Paulette. He’s so jealous. He wants to kill you because he knows you like me.”

Which one is the real Brad? she wondered. Which one?

If I make the wrong choice, Ed will kill me, she thought. And he’ll kill Brad too.

“Listen to me, Paulette,” the standing boy called.

“Don’t listen to him!” the other boy shouted. “Listen to me!”

“I’m Brad!”

“No, I’m Brad!”

Which one should she believe?

I spent more time with the first boy. The one who is standing. He didn’t do anything strange. Every time I’ve been with Ed, he’s done something to make me uncomfortable.

The boy who is standing is Brad, she decided. Ed is lying to get me to untie him.

But how can I be sure? she thought.

I know! The scar. Brad has the scar over his eye. Ed doesn’t.

“Let me touch your face,” Paulette said to the standing boy. “Then I’ll know if you’re telling the truth.”

“Go ahead,” the standing boy answered.

“Don’t go near him!” yelled the boy on the floor. “He wants to hurt you!”

Paulette hesitated. They both sounded so sincere.

I have to do this, Paulette thought. She took a step toward the standing boy.

Her heart pounded so hard, her chest ached. She moved closer to the boy she thought was Brad. Close enough to touch him.

Close enough for him to grab her.

“No!” shouted the boy on the floor. “Paulette, you’re making a terrible mistake!”

Paulette reached out. She ran her fingers lightly over the standing boy’s eyebrow. Over the skin next to his eye.

Now she knew the truth.

chapter 24

No scar. The skin was smooth. “Ohhh,” Paulette moaned.

I helped Ed trap Brad. I even tied Brad up.

She stumbled away from Ed. He grabbed her. Spun her around. He wrapped his arm across her throat and jerked her against him.

“I tried to warn you!” Brad gasped from the floor. “I tried to tell you.”

“I sound almost like him, don’t I?” Ed asked. Paulette could feel his hot breath against her hair. “I can look like him, sound like him, act like him. It’s so easy for me.”

It’s true, Paulette thought. There’s just a slight difference.

She held still. She didn’t try to get away.

Ed is too strong. I need a plan, she thought.

“So many times, when you thought you were with Brad, you were really with me,” Ed told her. “You were easy to fool, Paulette. So easy. You’re so trusting. Too trusting for your own good.”

“That was you outside my window that night, wasn’t it?” she asked. It hurt to speak with Ed’s arm pressed against her throat. But she wanted to keep him talking. She needed time to come up with a way to escape.

“That’s right,” Ed said. “Did you find the souvenir I left for you?”

“You mean Brad’s ring?” Paulette answered.

“That’s right,” Ed said. “I took it from him just so I could leave it there.”

“That day in the street—when I fell in front of the traffic. That was you too, wasn’t it?” Paulette went on. What am I going to do? she thought.

“Very good,” Ed said. “You’re finally catching on. That was me. I was the one who painted the message on your wall. And I was the one who moved the things in your backyard. It was almost too easy, Paulette.”

“How could you do those things?” Brad cried from the floor. “Paulette never did anything to you!”

“She fell for you!” Ed replied. “Just like everyone else. Everyone always thinks you are so perfect. It’s time someone found out I exist too!”

“I didn’t know,” Paulette said. “I never knew. Brad, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m so sorry.”

Now that she was so near to Ed, she could smell the faint scent of cinnamon. The same odor she smelled when the robber ran past her table at Pete’s Pizza.

She should have known before today, Paulette told herself. She should have known the truth.

Ed bent down, taking Paulette with him. She heard him pick something up off the floor.

He straightened up. Then he grabbed both her wrists in one of his big hands. He released his grip on her neck as he began to tie her hands together.

Paulette panicked. I’m not going to be able to do anything if I’m tied up, she thought. She jerked to the side—and managed to pull one arm free.

“Hold still!” Ed shouted. He slapped her.

Paulette gasped.

“Leave her alone!” Brad shouted.

Ed ignored him. He pushed Paulette down, planted his knee on her back.

Paulette choked on the dust from the floor. “Stop!” she cried. “Stop, you’re hurting me!”

“Well, isn’t that just too bad!” Ed answered. “But don’t worry. It won’t be for long. It’s time for our little game to come to an end!”

“Let her go!” Brad cried. “This is between you and me!”

“Not anymore, it isn’t!” Ed replied. He jerked Paulette to her knees. Then he forced her hands together and wrapped the rope around them. He tied a knot, yanking the rope so tightly that it burned her skin.

“Please,” Brad begged. “Please, Ed, please let her go.”

“I can’t do that,” Ed replied. “She knows too much. Besides, if I can’t have her, why should I leave her for anyone else?”

Ed started tying Paulette’s feet together.

I waited too long, she thought. Now there’s no way to escape.

“She didn’t know about you,” Brad went on. “She thought I was the only one.”

“But that’s the way it has always been, brother,” Ed replied, sounding even angrier. “Everybody thinks that you’re the one. You. Brad. The perfect boy. Well, soon the perfect boy will be gone.”

“I understand how you feel,” Brad continued. “But please, Ed. Please leave Paulette out of it. She’s innocent. The only thing she did wrong was to like me.”

“That’s why I’m going to kill her,” Ed said coldly.

“You won’t get away with this,” Brad said. “You’ll be caught this time.”

“Don’t bet on it,” Ed responded. “By the time they find your body, I’ll be long gone.”

Paulette managed to roll onto her side. “But what—what about your parents?” she asked. “They must know the truth.”

“Our father died when we were babies,” Brad told her. “Our mother did the best she could, but she was sick for a long time. She finally died last summer. When I got arrested for the burglaries Ed did, I jumped bail and came here. I thought I could start a new life.”

“And it almost worked, didn’t it?” Ed asked. “But not quite. And now there’s no way I can be caught. No one in Shadyside even knows that Ed Jones exists.”

“You can’t do this!” Paulette exclaimed. “Please, Ed—please, let us go!”

“Too late,” Ed said. Paulette heard him cross the room, then she heard the scrape of metal against metal.

“No!” Brad cried. “Ed, don’t—”

A hissing noise filled the room. A moment later Paulette smelled the sour odor of unlit gas.

“Turn it off!” Brad called.

“Like this?” Ed asked. Paulette heard the metallic sound again, then a sharp click.

“Whoops!” Ed said. “I broke the handle. I guess there’s no way to turn it off now.”

The hissing continued. The smell of gas began to fill the room.

“I’m going to go get the money now,” Ed told them. “It’s hidden in another room. By the time I get back you should both be unconscious. When you are, I’ll untie you, Brad. It would look kind of strange if Paulette’s kidnapper was tied up too.”

Paulette heard Ed cross to the door. The smell of escaping gas was overpowering. It filled her nose, her throat, choking her.

Soon, it would kill her.

Unless …

“Wait!” Paulette cried. “Ed, wait!”

“What?” he said. “What do you want?”

Paulette took a deep breath. “Don’t leave me here!” she cried. “Take me with you!”

chapter 25

“What?” Ed demanded. “What did you say?”

“Take me with you, Ed!” Paulette cried. “Don’t leave me here!”

Ed didn’t answer for a moment, then he laughed. “Why should I take you with me? You’re in love with Brad.”

“No, I’m not,” Paulette said. “I’m in love with you!”

“What?” Brad exclaimed.

“You’re lying,” Ed accused her.

“It’s not a lie,” Paulette replied. She realized her voice was shaking. She took a deep breath and went on, as calmly as she could. “I’m sorry, Brad. I’m sorry, but it’s true.”

“Why should I believe you?” he snapped. “You’d say anything to save your life. To save Brad’s life.”

“How can I convince you?” Paulette went on. “I didn’t know the truth till tonight. All these weeks, I’ve thought the only boy was Brad. I didn’t realize there were two of you.”

“That doesn’t matter,” Ed interrupted. “Brad was the one you picked.”

“But some of the time I was with him, I was really with you,” Paulette insisted. “Even though I didn’t know it was you. I see now that you were the one I loved all along. Whenever I was with you, I felt more alive. There was always something a little dangerous about you. Something exciting.”

“You really expect me to believe this?” Ed asked.

“It’s the truth,” Paulette replied heatedly.

“I don’t believe it!” Brad cried. “You’re upset. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know exactly what I’m saying,” Paulette told him. “I know you believed you were the one I cared about. But I didn’t know about Ed.”

She forced herself to ignore the hurt in Brad’s voice. She had to concentrate on Ed. She had to convince him that she was really in love with him.

Ed didn’t reply.

“Are you listening?” Paulette asked.

“Yeah,” he muttered from the hallway.

“What else can I say to convince you?” she went on.

“I don’t know,” he exclaimed. He sounded confused.

“Please, Ed,” she said. “Give me a chance. I can tell that you’ve been hurt a lot in your life. I can understand that people have always ignored you because of Brad. But I won’t do that, Ed. I’ll put you first. You just have to give me a chance.”

He didn’t answer.

“Please, Ed, take me with you,” Paulette pleaded. She held her breath, waiting for his decision.

“All right,” Ed muttered. “All right, I’ll take you.”

I did it! Paulette thought. I made him believe me!

She heard Ed cross back into the room, then kneel beside her on the floor. He untied her ankles. Then he gripped her arms in his strong hands and pulled her to her feet. “I still don’t completely trust you,” he said. “I’ll leave your hands tied.”

“That’s all right,” Paulette told him. “I’ll earn your trust. You’ll see.”

“Paulette—” Brad cried weakly from the floor. “Are you really going with him?”

Paulette felt her heart breaking, hearing the hopelessness in Brad’s voice. But she knew that what she was doing was her only chance. Her only chance to save them both.

“I’m sorry, Brad,” she said. “Ed is the one I want to be with.”

“Come on,” Ed told her. He guided her into the hall and along the rough floorboards. She heard a door creak open. “This is the master bedroom,” Ed told her. “It’s got a fireplace. I hid the money under some loose bricks.”

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Paulette said.

“I’m going to hand you my flashlight. I’ll point it at the bricks.”

“Fine,” Paulette agreed.

Ed pressed a large, heavy flashlight into her bound hands. She gripped it tightly. “There,” he told her. “Now how it steady while I work on the bricks, all right?”

He moved away from her. She heard the sound of stone scraping against stone.

“Is this where you want it?” Paulette asked.

“Yes, that’s perfect,” Ed said. “Just keep holding it. It’s really dark in here.”

Paulette listened carefully to Ed’s voice. She paid close attention to the scraping noises, carefully building up a mental image of where he was.

She flung the flashlight onto the hearth. She heard it smash against the stone. She imagined the sudden darkness enveloping the room.

“Hey—!” Ed cried out in surprise.

“Now we’re even!” Paulette shouted. “Now you can’t see either!”

chapter 26

“I believed you!” Ed screamed. She heard his fingernails scrabbling against the floor. Then the sound of small pieces of metal rolling on stone.

She heard Ed scramble to his feet and lurch toward her. She backed away.

Darkness is no problem for me, Ed, she thought. But it is for you. Now I have the advantage.

But not for long, she reminded herself. Ed’s eyes would adjust to the darkness. Soon. Very soon.

“Where are you?” he shouted.

Paulette didn’t answer. If she spoke it would make her easier to find.

“You’ll be sorry!” he muttered. “I’ll make you sorry!”

Paulette remembered how big Ed was, and how mean. But that doesn’t matter, she told herself. Not if he can’t catch me!

“I’ll get you!” he snarled.

Paulette formed a mental picture of the room and began to move toward the door. She could hear him lurching after her, several steps behind. He was helpless.

“You’ll never get away with this,” Ed snarled. “You can’t stay away from me forever, you know. I’ll catch you!”

Paulette didn’t answer. She stretched out her hands. She should be almost to the doorway. She took another step. Her fingertips brushed against the wooden door frame.

She darted into the hallway. The pungent smell of gas filled her nostrils.

Her plan had been to lead Ed away from Brad. Then to escape from the house, run to the neighbors, call the police.

But it might not be so easy, she realized now.

Time was running out. The smell of gas was strong, so strong. And she was feeling light-headed.

Paulette started down the hall. She ran her fingers across the wall. Using it to guide her.

Her toe hit a bump in the carpet—and she stumbled.

She heard Ed moving toward her. “I heard that,” he said. “I’m right behind you.”

Paulette pushed herself to her feet and kept going.

“My eyes are getting used to the dark,” he told her. “I can see you, Paulette. You’re just a shadow, but I can see you.”

She didn’t answer. As quietly as possible, she moved down the hallway.

She heard Ed’s footsteps. He was only a few feet behind her.

“It’s no good, Paulette,” he told her. “I see you. I’ll catch you. And that’ll be the end of you and Brad.”

Paulette headed toward the stairway. This wasn’t going as she had planned. Somehow, she had to get downstairs. Get out the door. Go for help.

But before she could reach the stairs, Ed’s strong hands grabbed her arm. Held her tight.

“It’s all over for you,” he told her, his voice shaking with fury. “It’s all over now.”

chapter 27

“No!” Paulette screamed. She tried to wrench away.

“You lied to me!” he shouted. “You tried to make me think you cared about me! Now I’m going to kill you!” He shook her.

Paulette felt weak, tiny, helpless. Ed was so much bigger, so much stronger.

Don’t fight your enemy, a voice sounded in her head. Ms. Tillotson. From self-defense class.

The lessons of the class came flooding back to her.

Don’t fight your enemy, the teacher had said. Don’t resist. Instead, use your enemy’s strength against him.

Paulette began to feel stronger. I know what to do, she told herself. I must stay calm. Calm and strong.

“Come on!” Ed snarled. “You’re going back in the other room. Back to die with your boyfriend.”

Paulette didn’t answer. She pictured herself and Ed, side by side. She concentrated on remembering the layout of the hallway.

The stairs were only a foot or two from where she and Ed stood.

“You don’t have so much to say now, do you?” Ed barked.

Wait, Paulette told herself. Wait for him to make his move. You have to surprise him.

“I can’t believe I thought you were Brad for one second,” Paulette cried. “You’re nothing alike. Brad is the greatest guy I’ve ever met. And you—”

Ed growled low in his throat. He yanked Paulette toward him.

Now! Paulette thought. She threw herself in the same direction.

“Hey!” Ed cried in surprise as Paulette crashed into him.

He pushed her away—toward the stairs.

Paulette grabbed his wrist and pulled him with her.

They flew forward—straight toward the rotted-out staircase.

chapter 28

Paulette imagined the long, steep staircase. The rotting stairs.

Paulette let go of Ed. She landed hard on the moldy carpet.

“Noooo!” Ed shrieked.

Paulette heard his hands hit the banister.

The banister collapsed with a deafening cracking sound.

Paulette heard Ed scream as he plunged onto the staircase. She heard hard thumps. And finally a heavy thud.

Then she heard nothing. No cries, no breathing.

Silence.

Paulette took a deep breath. She felt her heartbeat begin to slow down. It worked, she thought. I’m safe.

She pushed herself to her feet. She stood at the head of the stairs for several moments.

There were no sounds from Ed.

Brad! she thought. I’ve got to get him out of here.

She rushed to the back bedroom where Brad lay tied up.

The smell of gas choked her. She began to feel dizzy.

Paulette dropped to her hands and knees. She crawled along the floor, where the air was clearer.

“Brad!” she cried. “Brad, are you all right?”

At first there was no answer. Then she heard a moan.

“Brad!” she screamed.

“Yes …” His voice was weak, but at least he was conscious.

“We’ve got to get out of here. I’ll explain what happened later,” she told him.

“I … I thought I’d never see you again,” he murmured. He sounded drugged.

Quickly, Paulette untied Brad’s feet. She helped him to crawl out of the room, into the hall.

She pulled him up. They started toward the staircase. He stumbled. She heard him fall.

“I can’t,” Brad mumbled. “So tired.”

Paulette swayed on her feet. The floor felt as if it were rocking back and forth underneath her.

Stay focused, she ordered herself. She had to get both of them out of there before she passed out.

“Come on, Brad,” she called. “It’s not much farther. You can do it.”

Paulette hauled Brad to his feet. She wrapped her arms around his waist and staggered toward the stairs.

Brad was heavy. Every step took so much strength.

“You have to help me now,” she said when they reached the top of the staircase. “Some of the steps are rotten. Look at the first one. Is it okay?”

Brad didn’t answer. She felt his head drop against her shoulder.

She shook him. “Brad! I need you to look at the stairs. Is the first one safe?”

“Yeah,” Brad answered. He spoke slowly. His voice sounded thick.

“Good,” Paulette answered. She helped him onto the first stair.

Slowly, carefully, they made their way down the staircase.

At the bottom of the stairs Paulette felt a heavy obstacle.

Ed.

She knelt down, touched his face. She felt a trail of blood running out of the corner of his mouth.

“His head. It’s … all twisted,” Brad said. “His neck is broken. He’s dead, Paulette.”

“I … I had to do it!” she cried. “I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to get away.”

“I know,” Brad said. “You saved both our lives. Don’t ever forget it.”

The smell of the gas was much fainter at the bottom of the stairs. Paulette felt her strength returning. They hurried to the front door.

When they stepped outside, Paulette pulled in a long, deep breath of the cool night air. She heard sirens in the distance.

“Is anyone hurt?” a man’s voice called from the lawn. “I saw flashlights moving around in there and called the police. Is everything all right?”

“Yes, sir,” Brad replied. He sounded much better. He squeezed Paulette’s hand. “Yes. I think everything will be all right.”

He turned to Paulette. “I feel as if I’m finally coming out of the dark,” he told her. “I really do.”

About the Author

R.L. Stine is the best-selling author in America. He has written more than one hundred scary books for young people, all of them bestsellers.

His series include Fear Street, Ghosts of Fear Street and the Fear Street Sagas.

Bob grew up in Columbus, Ohio. Today he lives in New York City with his wife, Jane, his teenage son, Matt, and his dog, Nadine.

Dear Readers,   Summer 04

Welcome to Fear Street— where your worst nightmares live! It’s a terrifying place for Shadyside High students—and for YOU!

Did you know that the sun never shines on the old mansions of Fear Street? No birds chirp in the Fear. Street woods. And at night, eerie moans and howls ring through the tangled trees.

I’ve written nearly a hundred Fear Street novels, and I am thrilled that millions of readers have enjoyed all the frights and chills in the books. Wherever I go, kids ask me when I’m going to write a new Fear Street trilogy.

Well, now I have some exciting news. I am writing a brand new Pear Street trilogy right now. The three new books are called FEAR STREET NIGHTS. The saga of Simon and Angelica Fear and the unspeakable evil they, cast over the teenagers of Shadyside will, continue in these new books. Yes, Simon and, Angelica Fear are back to bring terror to the teens of Shadyside.

The new FEAR STREET NIGHTS will be published in summer 2005! Don’t miss it. I’m very excited to return to Pear Street—and I hope you will be there with me for all the good, scary fun!

Table of Contents

- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- prologue
- chapter 1
- chapter 2
- chapter 3
- chapter 4
- chapter 5
- chapter 6
- chapter 7
- chapter 8
- chapter 9
- chapter 10
- chapter 11
- chapter 12
- chapter 13
- chapter 14
- chapter 15
- chapter 16
- chapter 17
- chapter 18
- chapter 19
- chapter 20
- chapter 21
- chapter 22
- chapter 23
- chapter 24
- chapter 25
- chapter 26
- chapter 27
- chapter 28
- About the Author
- Dear Readers, Summer 04