PART FOUR, CHAPTER 18
She knew the area around their house so well that she was certain where she would find her pets: under the foundation of the garage. There were some large cracks in the concrete where the structure met the ground, and the cracks led to a large dark space under the floor of the garage. She had once probed the space with a long stick and had not been able to find the sides. That, she was sure, was where she would find them.
When she emerged from the bushes, the first thing
she saw was Lucky sticking his head out of the crack and then
vanishing under the garage.
"Boy, am I glad to see you," she said,
emptying her pockets into the hole. "That ought to keep you guys
full for a while." The relief she felt made her giddy.
"I'll be back as soon as I can be, you can
count on that." She felt as wildly good as she had
horribly bad a moment before. "You guys are pretty
smart." She smiled, pulling her pockets inside out to get
every last sunflower seed. "This is a much safer place for you."
Rather than crawl through the bushes again back
into the yard, Sheridan skipped down the length of the lilacs toward
the end of the fence and the corner of corral. She planned to
turn and enter the yard through the same gate the monster had used.
As she turned toward the corral, she saw the face of a man in the
window of the pole barn, and it stopped her cold.
The man's face withdrew from the window into the
shadows of the barn and then reemerged in the doorway, so that she
could now see all of him. He stood in the light but didn't step
outside into the corral. He was motioning to her to come to him.
He was smiling. She had been right about being watched.
Sheridan couldn't move. She was terrified.
She didn't know whether to scream for her mom, run for the gate, or
run back toward the garage. If she ran back to the garage, the man
might follow her and maybe see the animals.
"Sheridan, right?" The man asked
softly. He spoke just loud enough for her to hear him.
"I need to talk to you for a second.
Don't be afraid," the man said. "I know your dad."
He did look familiar, Sheridan thought. She
had seen him before with her dad. She didn't know his name, and if
she had been told what it was, she had forgotten. There were a
lot of people who came to their house because it was Dad's office
also. There had been a lot of men at their house when the dead
man was found. She knew she shouldn't talk to strangers. But if
he knew her dad and her name, was he really a stranger? She
weighed going to the man against screaming or running to the house.
If the man saw her feed the animals, he might tell her mom. If
she ran screaming, she might embarrass her dad.
The man kept smiling and motioning for her to
come. She walked toward him on stiff, heavy legs. Her eyes were
huge. She walked past the gate and ducked through the poles of
the corral. Still, the man stayed in the pole barn. Sheridan
suddenly realized that he was standing there so he couldn't be seen
by anyone in the house, and she knew she had made the wrong
decision. She turned to run, but he was on her in an instant,
and he jerked her back roughly into a dark stall with him.
He swung, her around and pressed her against the
hay bales, and her scream was smothered by his hand. His face
was so close to hers that his hat brim jammed against her forehead
and his breath fogged her glasses.
"I'm sorry I had to do this, darling,"
he whispered when she had stopped struggling. "I really
am. I wished you hadn't come around the yard that way. I
didn't expect you and you saw me."
He kept his hand, massive and rough, crushed
against her mouth. Her breath came in quick little puffs from
her nose, and he didn't intend to let her answer.
"Before I take my hand down, there is
something you have to understand, Sheridan. Are you listening?"
She tried to nod her head yes. She was
trembling, and she couldn't make herself stop. She was suddenly
afraid she would wet her panties.
"Are you listening?" he asked
again. This time his voice was very gentle. "Are you
listening?"
She said with her eyes that she was.
"You've got some secrets, don't you little
girl? You've got some little friends in the woodpile, don't
you? I've been watching you. I saw you feeding them."
The big hand did not move from her mouth. "Do
your mom and dad know about them?"
She tried to shake her head no. Even though
he pressed her to the hay, he could tell what she was trying to say
because he smiled a little. "You're not lying to me, are you,
Sheridan?"
As forcefully as she could, she tried to say no.
He pressed his face even closer to her. His eyes were all she
could see of his face.
"Okay, then. That's good. We both
have a secret, don't we? And we're going to keep it our secret,
just between us. Just between us friends. You just keep this to
yourself and don't you ever say a word about this to anyone.
Look at me."
Sheridan had averted her eyes toward the door,
hoping her dad would be there.
"Look at me," he hissed. She did.
"If you say one thing about this to anyone,
I'll rip those pretty green eyes of yours right out of their
sockets. And I won't stop there."
With his free hand, Sheridan felt him reach back.
She heard a snap and a huge black gun filled her vision. "I'll
use this on your dad. I'll shoot him right in the face.
I'll do the same thing to your pretty mom and your itty-bitty
sister. I'll even kill that stupid dog. I'll blow her
head right off. Keep looking at me," he said.
She had stopped shaking; she was beyond it.
She was absolutely calm, and absolutely terrified.
"I'm going to take my hand down now and let
you go as soon as you can smile," he said. "Then you take
that smile right into the house and never, ever tell anyone what
happened here. Your little animals in the woodpile are going to
heaven, do you understand? Your family won't have to go to
heaven or anywhere else if you keep your little mouth shut."
He eased his hand down. Her face felt cold
as the air hit it. Her lips had been crushed against her teeth,
and she tasted a drop of salty blood from inside her mouth.
"Are you listening, Sheridan?"
"Yes." Her voice was thin, and it
nearly cracked.
"Then smile."
She tried. She didn't feel like smiling.
"That's not a smile," he chided, his
voice gentle again. "You can do better than that, darling."
She tried.
"Closer," he persisted. "Keep
working on it."
Her mouth smiled.
"We can live with that," he said,
stepping back. His crushing weight was now off of her.
She stood up. She winced as he reached over her shoulder, but
he was just brushing the hay off of her dress.
"Don't be scared of me," he admonished.
He sounded like a normal person now. She was as confused as she
was frightened. "Nothing bad will ever happen because we've got
a deal. I won't break it if you don't. Shoot," he
said, "we might even turn out to be friends someday.
That'd be nice, wouldn't it?"
"Yes," she said. But she was
lying.
"You might even get a little older, and I'll
take you to a movie. Buy you a Coke and some popcorn."
He smoothed her dress across her bottom, pressing his hand more
firmly than he needed to. "You might even like it."
They both looked up when they heard her mom call
her name.
"You had better go now, darling," he
said.
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