Wicked (10 page)

CHAPTER ELEVEN

“Good work, Eve!” Ryan was laughing so hard there were tears in his eyes. “I can hardly wait to see the expression on Jeremy's face when he comes down to breakfast.”

“Me, too.” Eve grinned. She'd just finished telling everyone what she'd done to cancel the practical jokes that Jeremy had attempted to play on them.

“Thanks, Eve.” Beth turned to Eve with a smile. “I'm so glad I didn't wake up to those spiders! I know it's silly, but I'm really afraid of them.”

“Do you still have that showerhead you took out of our bathroom?” Scott was curious.

“Sure.” Eve reached in the bag she was carrying and handed it to him.

Scott looked at it for a moment and then he shrugged. “I wonder what it does.”

“Let me see it.” Marc reached out for the showerhead and examined it closely. “I think it breaks apart somehow.”

Dean took the showerhead and started to loosen the part that should have adjusted the flow of water. Instead of stopping at the last setting, it screwed all the way off.

“What's in there?” Ryan peered over Marc's shoulder to look.

“It looks like . . . snakes. Rubber snakes all curled up. It's a showerhead that explodes when the water hits it and snakes come out.”

“Wonderful.” Eve rolled her eyes at the ceiling. “Just what you guys needed, first thing in the morning.”

“Thanks for taking it off, Eve,” Ryan said. “I was the first one in the shower this morning.”

“Are you afraid of snakes, Ryan?” Beth looked very sympathetic. “I am.”

“Not really, but I'd rather not take a shower with one. I probably would have yelled bloody murder if they'd all come out of the showerhead at once.”

“And that's exactly what Jeremy's waiting for,” Eve said. “He's probably sitting in his room right now, waiting for one of us to scream.”

Ryan grinned at Eve. “Thanks to you, we won't. It's going to drive Jeremy crazy, waiting for us to react.”

“How long do you think it'll take him to come down?” Angela glanced at her watch.

Eve shrugged. “I don't know, but I wish there was something we could do to him. He loves to play these stupid practical jokes. Maybe we should show him what it feels like to be on the receiving end.”

“Good idea!” Scott exclaimed. “What should we do?”

Eve sat back and let her mind wander as everyone suggested various ways of getting even with Jeremy. At least they were no longer puzzling over Tracie's death and trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for her drowning.

They'd all gone out to the pool this morning, hoping that something would give them a clue. But there had been nothing in the bottom of the pool except a few leaves and several dead bugs. Scott had taken pictures and then they'd swept out the bottom and filled the pool with water again. Tracie's death was still a mystery, and Eve doubted that even the police could solve it.

When Beth spoke, Eve tuned into the conversation again. She sounded very excited.

“I know what we can do to Jeremy! I've got a huge old armoire in my room.”

“A what?” Marc looked puzzled.

“It's like a chifforobe.” Beth explained, but Marc still looked puzzled. “You know, a huge, free-standing closet.”

“Oh. One of
those
! There's one in my room, too. Why didn't you say so in the first place?”

Beth looked a little embarrassed. “Sorry, Marc.”

“That's okay. Poets have to know all those obscure words. Anyway . . . what did you want to do with your armoire?”

“I thought we could back it up in front of Jeremy's door. When he opens his door to walk out of his room, he'll see nothing but a solid board. He'll think we boarded up his doorway because we were mad about his practical jokes.”

“That's a great idea, Beth!” Eve started to laugh. “But Jeremy might hear us moving the furniture and that'll tip him off.”

“That's true. Is there some way we can block his doorway without making noise?”

“Yes!” Eve clapped her hands as she got an idea. “We'll sneak up there and take off his outside doorknob. When Jeremy tries to open his door, the inside knob will come off in his hand and he'll have to call us to let him out.”

Ryan gave Eve an admiring glance. “Beautiful! I'll go up and do it right now.”

“I'll go with you.” Angela jumped up. “I'd better peek through the keyhole to make sure he's there. Our joke won't work if he's not.”

Eve frowned as Angela left with Ryan. Why hadn't she thought to say that? Then she should be the one who was going with Ryan. Angela had gotten the best of her
again.

* * *

Scott looked surprised when Angela and Ryan came back to report that Jeremy wasn't in his room. “But where could he be?”

“He's probably rigging another practical joke.” Marc offered a possible explanation. “You know Jeremy. He's not happy unless he's playing a joke on somebody.”

Eve started to nod, and then a very unpleasant and frightening thought crossed her mind. She turned to Angela and blurted out a question. “Did you write your chapter yet?”

“Yes. I couldn't sleep so I worked late last night.”

“And did you kill off Jeremy's character?”

Angela looked a little worried. “Yes, but . . .”

“How did you do it?” Eve interrupted.

“I had Jeremy's character fix the television antenna. The killer followed him up to the roof and pushed him off the edge.”

“Thank goodness!” Beth looked very relieved. “We've got cable so Jeremy couldn't possibly have done that!”

Eve shuddered. The thought of someone falling from that height terrified her, but she hid her fear. “That's true, Beth. But we didn't have a lamp by the pool, and Tracie still died there. And Cheryl wasn't stabbed with a butcher knife, but we found her body in the kitchen.”

“Wait a second, Eve,” Ryan said. “Are you saying Jeremy might have fallen off the roof?”

“I'm willing to bet on it. I hope I'm wrong. I really do. But I think we'd better go out and check the grounds.”

* * *

Eve sighed as she took her place at the library table. Of course they'd found Jeremy's body, and they'd put it in the walk-in cooler with Cheryl and Tracie. Ten students had enrolled in the workshop and now there were only seven, the exact number of writers that were left in Angela's book.

Everyone thought it was a coincidence, everyone but Eve. As they all took their places, Eve glanced at the empty chair and she thought about Jeremy. Jeremy had been a royal pain with his adolescent practical jokes. Perhaps he had been rigging another big joke, but he hadn't deserved to die.

At least one thing had turned out perfectly today. Eve smiled slightly. She'd made dinner with Ryan, and it had been delicious. Ryan's incredibly rich pasta dish had lifted everyone's spirits. And Eve had received nothing but raves for her Parmesan garlic bread. Cooking was fun if you did it with someone you cared about. It was exactly what Cheryl had always said, and Eve wished that there were some way to tell her that she'd been right.

It took almost an hour for everyone to read their chapters. They'd started early, at nine o'clock instead of ten. No one had felt like sitting around, and they'd hoped that the reading would take their minds off what had happened to Jeremy.

The clock had just struck ten when Eve finished reading. It had been very silent as she'd read her chapter, and Eve knew that everyone had liked it.

“Great job, honey!” Ryan grinned at her. “I think that's your best chapter yet.”

Eve smiled. “Thanks. It's your turn, Angela. Read your chapter.”

Angela looked a little nervous. “Do you really want to hear it? I mean . . . after everything that's happened?”

“I want to hear it.” Eve glanced around the table. “How about the rest of you?'

“So do I,” Scott said. “Come on, Angela. I want to hear what you wrote about Jeremy.”

“But it's not about Jeremy.” Ryan stepped in the defend Angela. “It's about Jeremy's character, and we have to be smart enough to recognize the difference.”

Eve tried to keep silent, but she couldn't help it. She blurted out what she was thinking. “Maybe it's not about Jeremy, but Jeremy's character dies in Angela's chapter. And now Jeremy's dead. Three out of three, Ryan. Isn't that too many to be a coincidence?”

“Not necessarily.” Ryan turned to Angela. “Go ahead, Angela. Read us your chapter.”

Angela's voice was shaking as she started to read, and Eve found herself feeling a bit sorry for her rival. It was clear that Angela was upset about what she'd written. Eve had always believed that words couldn't translate to actions, but Angela's story was turning into a reality and that was truly frightening.

Of course Angela's chapter was good. She was one of the best writers in the group. Eve found herself holding her breath as Angela read about the killer who was stalking Jeremy. Powerful arms were reaching out for him, to push him off the roof. Angela stopped to take a breath, and then they all heard it, a wail that seemed to be coming from the ceiling above them.

“What was
that
?!” Angela's face turned very pale.

“I don't know.” Eve's eyes widened as they heard it again. “I think it's coming from the fireplace!”

There was another wail, and everyone turned to stare at the fireplace. And then a voice started to speak, a voice that sounded very much like Cheryl.

“It's your fault!”
The voice was accusing, resonating strongly in the cavern of the fireplace.
“Now I'm dead and it's all your fault!”

Angela's mouth dropped open in surprise. “It's . . . it sounds like Cheryl!”

“That's impossible.” Eve didn't think. She just reached out to take Angela's hand. “Calm down, Angela. Cheryl's dead and dead people can't talk.”

“But . . . but her voice could be coming from the grave!” Angela looked totally freaked.

“Don't be stupid, Angela.” Eve gave a short laugh. “Cheryl's not even buried yet so she doesn't have a grave. Her body's still in the cooler, and the voice isn't coming from there.”

“You killed me!
Cheryl's voice spoke again.
“I know you didn't mean it, but I'm dead all the same. You were trying to get Angela to stop writing so she'd flunk the class. You're jealous because Ryan likes her, and this time you went too far. You killed me, Eve!”

Eve's mouth dropped open in surprise.

“You killed me, too!”
This time the voice sounded like Tracie's.
“You pushed me in the pool, and then you walked away. You knew I could swim and I'd get out, but I got a cramp and I drowned. It's your fault, Eve! You murdered me!”

Everyone gasped, but Eve was calm. Dead people didn't talk, and voices didn't come out of thin air. Eve smelled a rat, and she walked over to the fireplace to peer up, into the chimney.

“Tracie's right. Give it up, Eve.”
It was Cheryl's voice, again.
“Confess what you did or we'll get revenge. And bring back my clothes! I don't care if we were sorority sisters, you stole them from me!”

Eve frowned as she stood at the fireplace. Someone knew she'd taken Cheryl's clothes! And then she remembered that Jeremy had seen her coming out of Cheryl's room, and she started to laugh.

“This isn't funny, Eve!” Angela was shaking so hard, her teeth were chattering.

“Yes, it is! It's a trick, Angela. That's Jeremy. He got to us, one last time!”

“Jeremy?” Angela stared at Eve in utter disbelief. “What do you mean?”

Eve took a deep breath and turned to face everyone. “Look . . . Jeremy played one final joke, and this is it. He knew we were all freaked about Cheryl and Tracie, and he decided to take advantage of it.”

“That sounds like Jeremy,” Scott said. “But why did he accuse you of murdering Cheryl and Tracie?”

“Because I turned him down for a date last year. It was right after he put the dead lobster in our pool, and I told him I wouldn't even consider dating someone with such a childish sense of humor. Jeremy rigged this joke to get even with me.”

“You think that's what Jeremy was doing, up on the roof?” Ryan began to look as if he believed her.

“That's right. The voices were coming from the fireplace. Jeremy must have hidden his tape recorder by the top of the chimney.”

Scott looked thoughtful. “Eve could be right. I know Jeremy was good at impersonations. He always did them at parties. One time he called the frat house and pretended to be President Graham, and everyone believed it.”

“But how could Jeremy play a joke on us?” Beth looked completely puzzled. “He's dead!”

Dean shrugged. “He could have set it up before he died. He probably hooked a timer to his tape recorder and it went off, right on schedule.”

“Are you sure?” Angela shivered slightly. She still didn't look convinced.

“I'm positive,” Eve said. “Let's go up to the roof and look for Jeremy's tape recorder. That'll prove it was just a joke.”

“Good idea.” Ryan stood up. “Come on, guys.... We'll climb up the fire escape and check it out.”

Ten minutes later, the guys were back with Jeremy's tape recorder. Ryan sat down next to Eve and put his arm around her shoulders. “Good for you, honey. The rest of us were basket cases when that tape started to play. You were the only one who kept a clear head and figured it out.”