Spirit Seeker Read Free Page B

unaware of what had happened, were to return home, what would he think? What would he do? I couldn’t let him walk into that house alone!
    I abruptly stopped my pacing and grabbed a bedpost for support. I knew what I had to do, even as a voice in my head asked,
Go to Cody’s house? A murder scene? In the middle of the night? Are you crazy?
    If I really believed that Cody was innocent—and I had to! I had to!—then I couldn’t let this boy I cared about take the shock alone.
    I scrambled through my closet, pulled on jeans and a T-shirt, and brushed my tangled hair. I reached for the wide silver and amber barrette Mom had given me on my last birthday. But as I picked it up from the top of the dresser, thesmooth, usually cool amber suddenly felt so warm against my palm that I jumped at the touch. It seemed to glow with a red-gold heat.
    S tartled, I dropped the barrette on the dresser top, where it lay under the table lamp, reflecting the light. I realized it must have picked up the heat from the lamp, so I picked it up again, pulled back my hair, and fastened the barrette in place.
    As silently as possible I opened my door and crept down the stairs. In the kitchen, using only the glaring green light from the clock on the microwave, I scribbled out a note telling Mom and Dad where I’d be, before I slipped out of the house through the back door, the keys to Mom’s gray Camaro in hand. It was Saturday, so Mom wouldn’t be going to school, and she wouldn’t need her car—at least not for a few hours.
    I drove almost a mile to West University, to the street on which Cody lives. I drew nearly opposite his house and parked the car, prepared to wait. Cody would be coming home—he
had
to be coming home—and I was going to be there for him when he arrived.
    It was a hot, sticky September night, yet I was so frightened, my body was cold. I tried not to look at the house, but it loomed like a dark demon, demanding my attention. The police had left the drapes open, so the front windows gaped with blank, glassy eyes. The house was empty, yet, as I looked at it, it throbbed like a heartbeat.Strange, shivery pinpricks of light appeared, then vanished.
    Is someone already inside the house? Could it be Cody?
I wondered.
    I had to know.
    Although I realized the wish was totally unreasonable—surely Cody would have reacted to the crime tape—I slipped out of Mom’s car, quietly shut the door, and walked across the street, ducking under the crime scene tape. Close to the living room windows I could see the reason for the tiny flashes of light. The VCR on top of the television batted out a consistent
12:00
,
12:00
,
12:00
, a mindless robot waiting for someone to arrive and reset it.
    I cut across the front lawn, ducking under the tape again, and circled toward the back of the house. If the door to the unattached garage was unlocked, at least I could find out whether Cody’s car was there.
    Moonlight was merely a pale shimmer, scarcely enough to light the way. But over the years I had visited Cody’s house often, and I knew I could walk down the driveway to the back of the house, where it met the high board fence that enclosed the backyard, then follow the fence to the narrow door that opened into the garage.
    Once past the brick, I reached out to steady my steps. My fingers touched the rough boards and slid across to the cold metal latch. To my amazement the latch suddenly moved, and I jumped back to keep from being struck as the gate whipped open.
    A dark shape stepped through the opening, and a goggle-eyed face peered into mine. “Don’t you know there was a murder here?” a voice whispered, and strong fingers gripped my shoulder.
    I tried to scream, but my throat was so paralyzed with fear, all that came out was a choking gurgle.
    Squinting behind thick glasses, the man leaned forward so that his nose was just inches from mine. “Are you here because of the murder?” he asked. “It’s not a safe place to be. He might come