But he didn’t know what to say to make her feel better. Was there anything anyone
“Weez …”
She took a deep, shuddering breath, then seemed to pul herself together. She looked back toward the Barrens.
“Somebody took it, Jack. Someone sneaked into my room last night while we were out and stole it.”
“But you’re on the second floor.”
“I know.” She crossed her arms across her chest. “It gives me the creeps. But how did they
“Maybe because they couldn’t find it in my room.”
Her head snapped around.
“When I came back from Steve’s Thursday night, I sensed some stuff in my room had been moved. I thought it was Tom, looking for a way to get even
for the pistachios. But now … I wonder.”
“But only a few people knew we had it. Mister Rosen is the first one we showed it to.”
“Yeah, but he wouldn’t tel anybody. I mean, he hasn’t got anyone
Weezy’s eyes narrowed. “What makes you so sure? I mean, what do we know about him
“Right, with dozens of antennas on the roof and the biggest satel ite dish I’ve ever seen. I mean, that thing belongs at Lakehurst.”
“He can’t get cable out there so he pul s in the signals with the dish.”
“How do we know al that stuff’s just for receiving? Maybe some of it transmits. Who’s he communicating with?”
Jack saw Weezy’s new suspicions as good news and bad news. The good was she seemed to have pul ed back from the meltdown point and returned
to her old off-the-wal -conspiracy-theory self. The bad was she was talking down Mr. Rosen, and he didn’t like that.
“He’s a good guy, Weez, and he’s not communicating with aliens.”
“Who said anything about aliens? He could be—”
“He’s not doing anything but watching TV. Trust me. But I’m not so sure about Steve’s old man.”
“Mister Brussard?”
“Yeah. Add it up: I showed him the box and mentioned that we’d found it. Since he saw me with it, wouldn’t it be natural to assume we were keeping it at
my place? And if he wanted it, wouldn’t my room be the first place he’d look?”
“But since he didn’t find it in your room,” Weezy said in a soft voice, “mine would be the next best choice.” She shook her head. “But wait—I can’t see
him climbing up on my roof to get to my room.”
“Maybe he used the back door. Isn’t that what you used going in and out? And you said no one heard you.”
Jack realized whoever had been in her room could have used the front door as wel . He wondered if maybe it wasn’t such a good thing that most folks
in Johnson never locked their doors at night, or even when they went away for a weekend. On hot nights they’d leave al the doors and windows open to let
the air through.
“Yeah, but—”
“Wouldn’t even have to be him. Could have been someone else from the Lodge.”
“The Lodge?”
“Yeah. The Lodge. Every time I turn around lately it’s
the-Lodge-the-Lodge-the-Lodge. Mister Sumter and the other two dead guys were Lodge
members, and the body we found right next to the cube was another. Mister Brussard’s a Lodger—
Lodge is definitely involved.”
“Oh, wow.” Her eyes were wide. “Do you think whoever kil ed that man buried the cube with him? Maybe both were supposed to stay buried, but we
found them.” She looked at Jack with even wider eyes. “We could have had a kil er in our bedrooms!”
Jack had been thinking the same thing, but hadn’t wanted to mention it. The thought of any stranger in his room gave him a major case of the wil ies. But a kil er …
He kept up a calm front for Weezy.
