Wicked (9 page)

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Authors: Joanne Fluke

BOOK: Wicked
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Eve picked up the spiders and carried them out of Beth's room. Jeremy would be waiting for their reaction in the morning. When he didn't hear screams, he'd be very upset. It served Jeremy right. Eve was going to retrace his steps and undo every trick he'd done.
Angela's room was next. Eve hesitated with her hand on the doorknob. She really wanted to leave Jeremy's spiders on Angela's pillow. But teaching Jeremy a lesson was more important than frightening Angela. Eve opened the door, retrieved the spiders, and hurried back out again.
What else had Jeremy done? Eve thought about it for a moment, and then she decided he wouldn't leave the guys out of his joke. Eve crept down the stairs and went into Ryan's room. Ryan was sleeping peacefully, but there were no spiders on his pillow. Jeremy must have done something else to the guys, but what?
The bathroom. The moment Eve thought of it, she headed straight for the bathroom at the end of the hall. There was nothing on the sink, nothing in the medicine cabinet, and nothing attached to the toilet. Whatever it was, it must be in the shower.
Eve stepped into the small cubicle, and then she began to smile. There was a washer on the floor, the kind that fit into a showerhead. Jeremy had changed the head on the shower.
It didn't take long to take off Jeremy's showerhead. It simply screwed out. Eve found the original showerhead in the laundry basket and reattached it. Then she carried the evidence of Jeremy's practical jokes back to her room.
Eve was smiling as she went back to bed. When morning came, Jeremy would be holding his breath, waiting for them to react. But no one would scream, or laugh, or yelp. Jeremy would wait and wait until he finally gave up and came down to breakfast. That was when she'd hand him the bag with the spiders and the showerhead and tell him, in no uncertain terms, to grow up and stop playing these stupid practical jokes.
CHAPTER TEN
Wicked was up very early, just as the sky was beginning to lighten to a thin, pale shade of grey. The printer had activated several times during the night, and the pages had dropped into the tray. Several students had worked before the sun had come up, and Wicked pressed the button to duplicate the pages.
The first chapter was Eve's, and Wicked read it as it came out of the printer. It was very good, all about the vampire Adonna's first appearance to Rochelle. Of course, Wicked recognized the vampire. She was modeled after Angela. Angela hadn't noticed. People never realized that a character was patterned after them. Perhaps that was because they never saw the negatives in their own personalities. It was almost impossible to see yourself as others saw you.
Ryan's chapter was next, and Wicked thoroughly enjoyed it. Ryan was an excellent writer, and he deserved to be one of the students that Professor Hellman submitted to his editor. Three out of ten. That was what the professor had decided. Ryan should be one, and Eve should be the other. And of course Angela should be the third.
Angela. Wicked smiled and stood by the printer, reading the work Angela had done. Angela's chapter was superb, so frightening that even Wicked shivered. It was all about Jeremy's murder, and it was extremely graphic. Jeremy had climbed up on the roof to fix the television antenna, and someone had pushed him to his death.
Of course they didn't have a television antenna. Wicked knew that. The Sutler Mansion had cable, but that didn't really matter. Wicked knew what Angela was trying to do. She was writing about Jeremy's death in a way that couldn't possibly happen. And now Wicked had to make sure Jeremy's very real death was accomplished in a similar manner.
* * *
The alarm went off at six in the morning, and Jeremy almost turned it off to go back to sleep. But then he remembered what he'd done last night, and he got up with a smile on his face. He had to think up the best and biggest practical joke of his life, one that would target all of them, especially Eve.
Jeremy grinned as he went through his bag of jokes again. Eve had never reacted to any of his practical jokes. The others got mad, or they cracked up with laughter, but Eve just stared at him as if he'd done something incredibly stupid.
So what could he do to really get to Eve? Jeremy tried to decide where she might be most vulnerable. It was clear she really thought there was a connection between Angela's story and the accidents that had happened to Cheryl and Tracie. That was a good place to start. Eve blamed Angela for the fatal accidents. Of course they weren't Angela's fault. Jeremy knew that. After all, he was Angela's next victim and he was still alive and kicking.
There must be a way to make Eve stop picking on Angela. Jeremy thought about it for a long time, and then he began to smile. He'd play a joke that would make Eve look like a fool. She'd fall for it. Jeremy was sure of that. Everyone was freaked about the accidents, and every one of them would fall for his joke.
He'd brought his expensive tape recorder with him and Jeremy began to rig it on a timer. It was lucky that he was so good at impersonating voices. He'd do Cheryl and Tracie, speaking out from the grave. They'd say they'd been murdered. That would give everyone goose bumps. And then they'd accuse Eve of reading Angela's pages and arranging accidents to duplicate the murders in
Ten Little Writers
. They'd say that Eve had wanted to get Angela in trouble, to make her stop writing so that she'd flunk the class. But Eve had gone too far and they had died. They'd call Eve a murderer, and they'd vow to get revenge.
Jeremy chuckled. Anyone who'd had a run-in with Eve might believe it for a second or two. Eve had a nasty temper, and she wasn't above pulling a dirty trick to get even with Angela. Of course she wouldn't go as far as murder, and everyone would realize that when they took time to think about it. But Eve would have a few anxious moments when everyone eyed her with suspicion.
He'd let it go on for a moment or two, and then Jeremy would admit that it was only a joke. He'd show them how he'd rigged his recorder, and everyone would have a good laugh. Everyone except Eve. She'd probably slap his face for setting her up, but it would be worth it.
Jeremy did his best to keep a straight face as he impersonated Cheryl and Tracie on the tape. He'd set the recorder to go off at ten-fifteen, when they were all gathered in the library. Of course he'd be there and no one would suspect him of setting his recorder on a time delay. They would totally freak when they heard Cheryl and Tracie's eerie voices.
Where would the voices come from? Jeremy thought about it for a moment, and then he remembered that there was a fireplace in the library. They hadn't used it because the weather was so hot, and it was the perfect place. He'd carry his recorder up to the roof and tape it inside the chimney. The voices from the grave would come from above, echoing off the walls of the brick chimney. It would be absolutely chilling!
Jeremy put his tape recorder in a backpack and hurried down to the laundry room, where he'd noticed a long extension cord. He stuffed it in his backpack and climbed the staircase to the fourth floor. All he had to do was pick the padlock on the room next to the fire escape, plug in the extension cord, and trail it up to the roof.
The padlock wouldn't present much of a problem. Jeremy's older sister had padlocked her bike when he was a kid, and he'd learned how to unlock it. Jeremy was grinning as he climbed the stairs. If he could pull this off without a hitch, it would be the best practical joke he'd ever played!
* * *
Wicked was still trying to think of a way to get Jeremy on the roof when there was the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Three students had worked, and there were three chapters in the printer tray. The person climbing up to the fourth floor would be Eve, Ryan, or Angela.
Wicked picked up the duplicate pages and turned to find a place to hide. Heavy floor-length drapes covered the window at the end of the hallway. Wicked ducked behind them and stood perfectly still. Would anyone notice that the drapes were a little bulkier on the left side of the window? Wicked didn't think so, not if the person coming up the stairs was only here to collect a chapter from the printer.
But it wasn't Eve, Ryan, or Angela. Wicked took a quick peek and gasped as Jeremy appeared. What was Jeremy doing here? He hadn't written his chapter yet. As Wicked watched, Jeremy headed down the hallway, straight for Wicked's other room.
He was picking the lock! Wicked swallowed hard. What would Jeremy think when he saw the furniture? Would he realize that Wicked was using the room?
* * *
It took a few minutes, but Jeremy knew exactly what he was doing. He grinned as the padlock clicked and popped open. He hadn't lost his touch. You never knew when knowing how to pick a lock might come in handy.
Jeremy was smiling as he let himself in the room, but he stopped short as he realized that it was furnished. There was a desk, and a lamp, and a cushioned armchair. It looked as if someone was using this room. Of course, that was impossible. The servants' quarters were off-limits, and the room had been locked. This furniture must have belonged to one of the former servants who'd left it behind for some reason.
As he walked toward the window, Jeremy happened to glance down and he stopped in his tracks again. There were footprints in the dust. Someone had been here recently.
For a moment, Jeremy was thoroughly freaked. Was it possible that someone was living up here, someone they didn't know about? But then Jeremy remembered that a technician from the computer lab had been up on the fourth floor to hook their workstations to the printer. They'd probably given him the keys to the padlocks so that he could run wires down to the rooms below.
The explanation made sense. Jeremy drew a deep breath of relief. For a second there, his imagination had been working overtime. He'd conjured up visions of criminals hiding out from the law, or homicidal maniacs who'd found a deserted house to live in.
Jeremy plugged his extension cord into the socket by the window. Then he opened the window and stepped out onto the fire escape, unrolling the cord as he climbed up to the roof. He was almost there when he thought he heard something behind him and turned back to look. But there was no one else on the fire escape.
He always got nervous when he rigged a big joke. Jeremy laughed at his fears and continued to climb. He stepped out onto the flat surface of the roof and gasped as he saw the view. The Sutler Mansion was taller than the surrounding houses, and he could see all the way across the campus to the football field on the other side.
Someone had built a roof garden, and Jeremy walked over to examine the potted plants. They were all dead now, just dry sticks poking up from the dirt, but it must have been pretty at one time. The garden was partially covered by wooden slats and half was in the shade. Jeremy was sure the owners of the house hadn't built the garden. The Sutlers had been rich, and there was no way they would have climbed up a fire escape to the roof. It had probably been the servants' hideaway, a place where they could relax after the Sutlers had retired for the night. They'd even brought up some patio furniture to sit on so they could enjoy the view.
Jeremy perched on the edge of an old chaise longue and looked out, over the city. The sun was shining brightly, but there was a nice cool breeze up this high. The view was incredible, and that made Jeremy smile. The Sutler servants had enjoyed a much better view than the Sutlers. That was an irony that pleased Jeremy very much.
His parents were working-class people, and Jeremy tended to dislike the rich. Most of them thought they were better than anyone else, just because they had money. Eve was like that. The only exception Jeremy had found was Angela Adams. Angela was a regular person even though she came from a rich and famous family. If all rich people could be more like Angela and less like Eve, it would be a much better world.
Jeremy stood up and walked to the chimney. It was time to rig his joke. He took a roll of duct tape from his backpack and taped his recorder to the inside of the chimney. He checked his watch and set the digital timer for the current time, and then he plugged the timer into the extension cord.
There was a smile on Jeremy's face as he turned on the recorder and bumped the volume up all the way. When the clock on the timer reached ten-fifteen, electricity would flow to the recorder and it would begin to play. Cheryl's voice would seem to come from the heavens, accusing Eve of causing her death. Cheryl would be followed by Tracie, saying that Eve had killed her, too. And when they were through talking, the recorder would shut itself off because it had reached the end of the tape.
Of course Jeremy would be right there in the library, sitting at the table next to Angela. No one would suspect him of rigging the joke since he'd be there with them. It would be fantastic. Jeremy could hardly wait to see their expressions. He'd let it go on for a couple of minutes, and then he'd lead them all up here to show them the source of the ghostly voices.
One final check and the deed would be done. Jeremy added one more strip of duct tape and then he stepped back to admire his work. He was feeling very proud of himself when he thought he heard stealthy footsteps behind him.
Before he could turn to look, a shadow loomed over him, arms extended, and Jeremy gave a startled yelp. But that was the last sound Jeremy would ever make. Something hit him in the middle of his back, knocking him off his feet. And then he was falling over the edge of the roof, his mouth open in a silent scream, plunging down four floors through the early morning air to the unyielding ground below.
* * *
Wicked put the padlock back on the door and smiled. No one had seen Jeremy fall and there would be another search when he didn't come down for breakfast. Wicked loved searches. It was almost like playing hide-and-seek. The bright side would take part, not knowing what Wicked had done. And Wicked could sit back and watch, taking malicious pleasure in the bright side's horror as Jeremy's body was found.

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