The Dark: A Collection (Point Horror) (9 page)

Harry mouthed the
words. "Who's that?"

She covered the
receiver with her hand. "Remember the guy you met at the movie
theater? The one with the fancy suit jacket, the white shirt and
pocket watch?"

"Are you still out
with that Fellini boy?" There was a tone of disapproval in Doc's
voice. Usually Doc sounded objective and neutral about everything.

"He's driving me
home right this minute." Bianca swallowed hard.

"Good!" Doc said
impatiently as if he were looking down at his gold pocket watch. "How
much farther do you have to go?"

Bianca whispered to
Harry. "How much longer until you get me home? The turn-off to my
house is up ahead."

Harry grabbed the
phone from her and shouted, "What business is it of yours when I
get Bianca home?"

Doc replied so loudly
that Bianca could hear him, though she wasn't holding the phone.
"I'm deeply concerned about Bianca's welfare, which seems to be
more than I can say for you. You're keeping her out late after
she's experienced severe trauma at the theater. I've talked with
her senior doctors at the hospital, gotten them all out of bed. They
want to see her first thing in the morning. They're as concerned as
I am."

"Why are you fancy
doctors filling Bianca's head with crap? You make her think she
can't pee without your permission," Harry snapped.

"What do you know
about it, Fellini?" Doc remarked coldly. "You and your brother
weren't brought up by a mother who cares about you the way Bianca's
parents care about her. Your mother let you both run wild. You were
allowed to commit murder, mayhem and—"

"So I'm a bad
influence, huh?" Harry drove with one hand on the wheel.

"The worst possible
influence!"

"Suppose we let
Bianca decide that for herself!" Harry fumed.

"In her condition
she is not fit to decide much of anything, and—"

"Look, I don't
know who hired you to butt into Bianca's business. She's got me
to look after her now. You're fired! Get it, buddy? Fired! You're
the bad influence — not me. In fact, you sound like poison."

"Oh no, Harry, no!"
Bianca reached for the phone. She couldn't let him talk like that
to Doc.

Harry pressed the end
button and tossed the cell phone at Bianca.

"But — but that was
Doc!" she protested. "Doc Ernie McCollough. He's so educated.
His father's a history professor. His mother's an Aubrey, one of
those blue bloods whose family goes back generations. They live
across the street from us, next to the Shipleys."

"I don't care if
he's rich. I don't like him putting you down." He chucked her
chin.

"I don't know
what I would have done without Doc for the past two years. At first I
was in complete denial about the murder. He helped me live with my
memory loss. I consult him all the time, and—"

"You don't need a
crutch like Doc. He seems more like a pain in the ass." Harry said
with a wave of dismissal.

"But—"

"You're strong,
not some ten-pound weakling." He pulled her against him until her
head was resting against his shoulder. He rubbed the top of her head
with his cheek.

Bianca felt an
invigorating sense of power flowing from his hand and cheek into her.
She'd never imagined that she could survive for the rest of her
life without Doc's help since she'd been psychologically crippled
by the horrific experience. At least Doc had always said she'd been
crippled. Harry gave her a new self-image. For a magical moment, with
Harry's arms around her, she imagined that anything was possible.

Her eyes started to
close. She might have drifted off for a second. The next thing she
knew Harry had stopped the car. She felt for him, and he was gone.
Now very much awake, she peered into the darkness behind her. There
stood Harry, next to the bumper, staring down the road the way they'd
come. He seemed alert, listening for the smallest sounds.

Finally he climbed
back into the car.

"Harry, is somebody
following us?" she asked straight out.

He started the car
up. "Those owls must be going crazy tonight making that racket. A
few alligators are swimming around in the swamp near the edge of the
road. This time of year they sleep during the day and come out at
night."

Bianca felt uneasy.
She wondered if Harry was trying to conceal something from her.

Br-r-r-r-ring!

"Don't answer!"
Harry warned. "It's that Doc pest again. I can smell him the way
I can smell a skunk."

She didn't want to
displease Harry. But the shrill ringing sound was getting to her. She
fiddled nervously with Doc's turquoise earrings.

"Maybe it's my
parents. I'm out late, you know." Bianca couldn't keep herself
from answering. "Hello?"

"Ditch Fellini as
quickly as possible," Doc hissed very low. "I've just heard the
most dreadful news."

The blood drained
from Bianca's face. "What — what do you mean?"

Harry was slowing
down, pulling up along one side of the road. He scooted across the
seat and put his ear up close to the phone. Her heart was thudding
against his chest. Harry's heart was thudding against hers. They
were in this thing together.

"It's Mike. The
news is worse this time — much worse," Doc informed her.

Bianca could feel
Harry's muscles tensing. Her hand found his and squeezed it. This
was too much all in one day — losing his job at the Island Theater,
then having his brother break out. Now — what?

"What — what is
it?" she croaked.

"Mike escaped from
the state penitentiary this afternoon."

"We heard about
that from the police chief at the theater."

"Yes, well now he's
broken into the Shipleys' house. Your parents called me over. I'm
with them now in your living room. The Shipleys are here along with
the police chief and the rest of the police department."

Bianca could make out
her parents' voices in the background. Worse, Bianca's hair stood
up on end hearing Mrs. Shipley's sobs. It reminded her of that time
two years ago. It was part of the memory that had come back to her
this evening.

It was very odd that
Mrs. Shipley should be weeping over a lost crystal vase or a silver
candlestick that was insured twice over. She was such a rich woman
that she could buy another.

"You're —
you're not telling me everything, are you?" Bianca guessed.

"I didn't want to
have to tell you all the details over the phone — and in the
presence of certain people," Doc said with emphasis.

Harry grabbed the
phone. "You'd love nothing better than to scare the wits out of
Bianca. You don't care who's listening. You'd like the National
Enquirer to be on the other end of the line. Maybe CNN so they could
put it on as breaking news. Shooting your mouth off makes you feel
important."

"Jump out of the
car and run, Bianca! I could get in my car and meet you out on the
road. Harry Fellini's not safe company," Doc shouted.

"But — but you
said it was Mike. Harry hasn't done anything. Harry hasn't broken
into any houses." Bianca took the phone back.

"All right, Bianca.
Have it your own way." Doc sounded displeased. "I wanted to be
with you when you found out what really happened tonight. There might
be certain . . . serious complications. I might have to administer
certain . . . ah . . . first-aid treatments."

Harry snatched the
phone. "You should see Bianca's face. Even in the dark she looks
like a ghost. What are you trying to do — kill her off on the
spot?"

Doc explained. "Mike
didn't take the TV sets or the stereo system. If that had been all
he'd done, the police wouldn't have dropped every other petty
robbery or larceny on their dockets tonight. The Shipleys wouldn't
have canceled their big trip."

Bianca's heart came
to a dead stop as she took the phone with her trembling hands. "You
— you said that the Shipleys were at my parents' house. Where —
where is Little Katie?"

"Where indeed? It
looks as if Mike's kidnapped her. He's left a ransom note for one
million dollars."

"Oh my God, no!"
Bianca dropped the phone and burst into tears. Not Little Katie all
over again! She couldn't stand it.

Harry forgot his own
pain about his brother to take Bianca into his arms and comfort her.
He stroked her hair and whispered soothing words. He rocked her back
and forth.

"I didn't want to
have to tell you about it this way." Doc's voice was clearly
audible from the phone lying on the floor. He had one of the loudest
voices that Bianca knew. "Now you'll have to get back here
quickly. I need to give you one of your sedative pills."

Harry picked up the
phone. "I figured you for a selfish, heartless bastard who likes to
hear yourself talk. I didn't figure you for an absolute sadist. You
like to make Bianca suffer? Go to hell!"

Harry hurled the cell
phone out the window. He kissed Bianca's head as he cradled her in
his arms until she couldn't cry any more.

"Remember what I
said? Don't let them get to you! Don't give in like this, no
matter what."

"Why do they always
pick on Little Katie?"

"Because she's a
rich little girl, I guess, the richest on the island. But you're
the one who's suffering the most, getting so strung out about her.
Be kind to yourself. Tell yourself you can tough it out. I know you
can. I'll help you."

"I saw your face
when Doc said it was Mike. You looked crushed. How will your family
ever live this one down?"

"I — I don't
know, to tell you the truth." He hugged her fiercely. "But I know
you'll help me, just as I'll help you. Together we'll make it
somehow."

Only the thought that
Harry needed her as much as she needed him kept Bianca from going
totally to pieces. She needed to be needed. It was the only thing
that kept her sane. The raw desperation she felt in his hug made her
wipe her eyes.

"I'll get you
home." Harry flicked on the car radio. "We're almost to your
house. All we have to do is take the next left."

The local announcer
broke in:

St. Simons Island
reels with shock late tonight with the kidnapping of the Shipley
heiress, two-year-old Little Katie. A neighbor from across the street
in the Churchyard Oaks Subdivision immediately called the police and
reported seeing the notorious Mike Fellini drive up in a blue van.
She watched in horror as he shinnied up a tall live oak tree in the
front yard right outside Little Katie's bedroom window. The window
was wide open. It was a hot night. With her parents still downstairs
on the telephone (the neighbor tried to call them to warn them, but
she couldn't get through), Katie was taken from her crib by the
nineteen-year-old who has a crime record miles long, stretching back
to when he was ten. The neighbor observed that Fellini had tied a gag
around Little Katie's mouth. He climbed back down the tree with the
child in his arms. The neighbor would have run outside screaming, but
she could see a glint of metal in Fellini's hand and feared that he
was armed with a knife.

The parents didn't
find out what had happened to their only child until the same
neighbor ran screeching across the street as soon as Fellini had
left. She woke up all the neighbors in the Churchyard Oaks
Subdivision, the scene two years ago of the brutal unsolved slaying
that still has our tight-knit community up in arms. The Shipleys
raced upstairs to find their child missing and a ransom note for one
million dollars pinned to her mattress.

The police are asking
anyone who has information leading to the arrest of Mike Fellini to
call them. As everyone knows, he's a brute of a guy, nearly seven
feet tall and built like a football player with big, broad shoulders
and a big chest. He weighs over two hundred pounds. He has dark brown
hair and brown eyes and is believed to be armed with a knife, and
very dangerous. Approach him only with extreme caution. He is
desperate and capable of anything. He's already kidnapped a little
girl. He's willing to attack you next.

The Shipleys are
offering a one million dollar reward to anyone who can bring their
daughter back alive.

Harry flicked off the
radio. He drove on without saying a word. In the darkness of the
front seat he looked heartbroken. All the life had been sucked out of
him.

He had been trying so
hard for so long, but one person could only take so much. If no one
wanted to hire the brother of a bank-robber, surely no one would want
to hire the brother of a kidnapper. Mike had sunk as low as he could
possibly go, and had taken his family with him.

Harry was staring
straight ahead, clutching the steering wheel so hard that Bianca
could hear his knuckles crack. He didn't trust himself to speak, or
he might break down. She could feel what he was feeling. It made her
body tremble and her own fingers ache.

Every so often Harry
would sniff and rub his eyes. Then he bit his lip. Harry was trying
hard to be brave! He thought that if he acted sad, he would make
Bianca even sadder. Every so often he would dart little glances in
her direction, then look back at the road.

Against his will, a
moan escaped his lips. "They'd" gotten to Harry Fellini no
matter how brave he tried to be. He stopped the car and collapsed
against the steering wheel. His whole body shook with sobs.

Bianca took him into
her arms. "It's all right!" She hugged him. She felt a little
bit stronger. It had been the same way she'd felt two years ago
when she'd had Little Katie in her arms and she'd been fleeing
from the murderer.

"It's strange,"
Harry groaned hoarsely. "I know we never talked to each other
before tonight. But I think I'm in love with you, Bianca."

She answered with a
kiss.

He put his finger
under her chin. "This whole thing proves my point. You're one
brave girl."