Rebecca awoke choking. She
turned onto her side and spat out the popcorn. She felt around her mouth with
her tongue for any more kernels. The long hair fell forward and she swatted at
it as if she were being attacked by a furry animal. She yanked it off her head
and threw it across the room. What was going on?
Light, sounds, and smells
were sifting in through the open window. Someone had been in the room! She
leaped up and stumbled over the backpack as she reached for the window. She changed
her mind about closing it and grabbed the bag instead and headed for the door.
It wasn’t locked!
She had to be careful now.
She thought that Mike must be in the house. And what about Ed? Mike must have
done something to Ed!
She felt woozy and her mouth
was dry. Why would he stuff her cheeks with popcorn? Her mind flitted back and
forth. She was groggy. Why was she groggy? How did Mike do this to her?
She ran her hands down her
clothing. She was still wearing the same outfit. She hadn’t been molested, thank
goodness, and she still had her shoes on.
She opened the door and
listened. Stepping out, she could see into the living room. The front porch
fixture was on and it shot feathered arrows of light under the drapes. She
listened some more.
There was a peephole in
the front door and she had to get on her tiptoes to press her eye against it.
The front steps were littered. Mike must have sat here and gloated after
drugging her. How did he do it? It must have been the orange juice. And if Ed
drank some, too?
She turned from the door
and crept to Ed’s bedroom. The door was open and she could see that it was
empty. The bed wasn’t even slightly mussed.
What time was it? Twelve?
Two? Three? Well, whatever time it was, she was on the run again. She took
another look through the peephole and studied the dark shapes of the trees,
some of the leaves clearly visible in the glow from the porch light. A few
leaves moved and suddenly . . . there was Mike Sylver’s face in their place.
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