Part 15 (1/2)

Mary Anne tried. I tried again. We all tried together.

The door didn't budge.

”The windows,” said Mary Anne. We made a mad dash for the big windows. But security locks were built into the latches, the kind that have to be opened with a key. Of course there was no key around anywhere, not on the shelves, not in the desk.

”The phone,” I said. ”We can use the phone to call someone to come let us out.” I grabbed the receiver.

But the phone had been disconnected. I guess since Karl Tate wasn't in business anymore, he didn't need it.

Mary Anne went back to the door and tried again to open it. But it was no use.

We were trapped.

Chapter 19.

Claudia.

”The phone is still dead,” I said, putting down the receiver. ”Way, way dead.”

”Could you put it some other way, Claud? Please?” asked Stacey, glancing nervously at the broken ski poles that were leaning in the corner. (Kristy had insisted we bring them in and use gloves to touch them ”in case there were fingerprints.”) The blizzard had reached full roar - literally - outside. The wind was howling, driving the snow almost parallel to the ground, at blinding speed.

And it was getting later and darker by the minute.

”Are the doors and windows all locked?” I asked. ”Tell me they are.”

”If they're not, they will be,” said Kristy. ”Let's go.”

”We can't split up!” I practically shrieked. ”That's what happens in horror movies, so the people can be picked off one by one.”

Everyone looked at me. Then Abby said, ”We can split up into teams and each take one side of the house.”

We walked around the house. Some of the windows had locks. Some didn't. Abby and Kristy went outside and closed the shutters on the ones that didn't. Which of course made it even darker inside.

And we were too late anyway.

We'd just settled in by the fire when Stacey came back from the bathroom with a funny expression on her face. ”Kristy,” she said. ”Could you come here a minute?”

A moment later, I heard Kristy exclaim, ”Oh, no! Stacey . . .”

Stacey's insulin was missing. It had been taken right out of the little case in the inside pocket of her suitcase.

”Ohmigosh, Stacey!” I exclaimed.

”Don't worry,” she said quickly. ”I always carry a spare case in my backpack. But someone had to come in and take it out. I've looked everywhere.”

I sat down heavily on the bed.

And saw the feathers.

I leaped up with a little gasp.

I don't know what I thought. Maybe that someone had killed a small animal on my bed.

It wasn't that. But it was just as creepy.

My pillow had been slit open, end to end. Its insides were spilling out across my bed. Claudia's red nail polish had been emptied on top. It was still sticky.

I put my hand over my mouth. I felt sick with fear. Someone had been here, in this room, maybe even while we were sitting in the next room by the fire.

The stalker had found us at Shadow Lake. And he was getting doser.

Dangerously close.

Okay. It was me. I insisted that we search the house to make sure the ”maniac” wasn't inside. We checked out every possible inch. Subtly. So that Sam and Charlie kept playing checkers without noticing.

Kristy said, ”That's it. No one under the sink or behind the garbage can. Unless there's a secret door - ”

The knock made us jump.

It was Woodie, covered to his eyebrows with snow.

”How did you get here?” demanded Kristy suspiciously.

Woodie pointed to his showshoes. ”I found a little extra wood in my bas.e.m.e.nt, so I thought I'd bring some over.”

Kristy looked ashamed.

Charlie said, ”Thanks. It doesn't look as though Watson and Mom are going to make it back from town anytime soon. Maybe not before tomorrow.”

”You might want to head up to the lodge,” said Woodie. ”Before it gets worse.”

The words sounded innocent enough, but they made me shudder inwardly. How much worse could it be?

”Not yet,” said Charlie, glancing from Sam to Kristy and then back at Woodie. ”We want to stay here in case they do try to make it back. You want to come in and warm up?”

”Thanks, but I need to head back to my own cabin,” said Woodie. ”I left the fire burning. Wouldn't want the whole place to burn down.” He shook his head. ”That's a little too warm for me.”

He turned to leave. We stepped back inside. But as I was closing the door, something made me stop. I frowned. From the back, Woodie looked familiar. Very, very familiar. In a chilling kind of way.

Then I remembered Stacey's words: ”Mary Anne said something about Karl Tate before the lines went dead.”