stared at the wall, sometimes for as long as an hour, just thinking. And planning.
When he left the house early the next morning, the sky was high and bright and cloudless. He intended to meet Heather at twelve o‘clock, spend the afternoon at the beach, and be home by nightfall; nevertheless, he took a flashlight with him.
He rode his bicycle down to the beach, then to the harbor, even though he didn’t have any immediate business in either of those places. He was taking a roundabout route to his real destination in order to make certain that he wasn’t followed. He could see that Roy wasn’t close behind him, but perhaps the boy was watching from a distance through the same pair of high-power binoculars they had used when they were spying on Sarah Callahan. From the harbor, Colin cycled to the tourist information center at the north end of town. Satisfied that he had no tail, he finally struck out directly for Hawk Drive and the Kingman place.
Even in bright daylight, the abandoned house loomed threateningly at the top of the hill. Colin approached it with uneasiness that changed to quiet fear by the time he entered the gate and started up the broken flagstone walk. If he had been the state official in charge of the property, or the mayor of Santa Leona, he would have called for the complete and immediate destruction of the place for the good of the community. He still thought the house exuded a tangible evil, a menace that could be felt and seen as clearly as the California sunshine that now dazzled his eyes and warmed his face. Three large, black birds circled over the roof and finally perched on a chimney. The house seemed to be aware, watchful, infused with a malignant life force. The weathered gray walls looked scabrous, diseased, cancerous. Rusting nails resembled old wounds: stigmata. Sunlight seemed unable to penetrate the mysterious spaces beyond the missing windowpanes, and from outside, at least, the inside of the mansion appeared to be as dark now as it would be at midnight.
Colin put his bicycle down in the grass, climbed the sagging porch steps, and looked through the shattered window where he and Roy had stood one night not long ago. On closer inspection, Colin saw that some light did reach into the house. The drawing room was visible in every detail. At one time it must have served as a clubhouse for a group of boys-for candy wrappers, empty soda cans, and cigarette butts were strewn across the bare, scarred floor. A faded and tattered
The front entrance was unlocked, but the corroded hinges squealed as Colin pushed on the warped door. The wind rushed in around him and stirred up a small cloud of dust in the foyer. Inside, the air was heavily tinted with the odors of mildew and dry rot.
As Colin prowled from room to room, he saw that vandals had been at work in every comer of the huge house. Boys’ names, obscene words, dirty limericks, and crude drawings of male and female genitalia were scrawled wherever there was bare plaster or fairly plain wallpaper. Ragged holes-some only as large as a hand, others nearly as big as a door-had been knocked in the walls. Piles of plaster and splintered laths littered the place.
When Colin stood perfectly still, the old house was ethereally quiet. But when he moved, the arthritic structure responded to each step he took; its joints groaned on all sides of him.
Several times he thought he heard something creeping up behind him, but when he looked he was always alone. For the most part, he moved through the ruins without a thought for ghosts and monsters. He was surprised and pleased by his newly acquired bravery-and just a bit uncomfortable with it. Only a few weeks ago, he would have refused to cross the Kingman threshold by himself, even if there had been a million-dollar prize at stake.
He was in the mansion more than two hours. He did not overlook a room or even a closet. In those chambers where all the windows were boarded shut, he used the flashlight that he had brought along. He spent most of the time on the second floor, exploring every nook-and planning a surprise or two for Roy Borden.
36
There was, after all, something that Heather could do to help him. In fact, she was perhaps the most essential part of the revenge plot that he concocted. Without her co-operation, he would have to find another way to get Roy. Colin didn’t intend that she fight at his side. He wasn’t relying on her strength or agility. He wanted to use her as bait.
If she agreed to help him, she would be in some danger. But he was certain that he could protect her. He was not the same weak and ineffectual Colin Jacobs who had moved to Santa Leona at the beginning of the summer, and his new aggressiveness would come as a surprise to Roy. A nasty surprise. And surprise was very definitely to his advantage.
Heather was waiting at the beach, in the shadow of the pier. She was wearing a one-piece blue swimsuit. She didn’t like two-piece suits or bikinis or anything like that because she didn’t think she looked good enough in them. Colin thought she would have looked as appealing as any other teen-age girl on the beach, better than many of them, and he told her that. He could see that the compliment pleased her, but it was equally obvious that she did not really believe it.
They chose a spot on the hot sand to spread their beach towels. For a while they lay on their backs, in companionable silence, basking in the sun.
At last Colin turned on his side and rose up slightly, supporting himself on one bent elbow, and said, “How much does it matter to you that I’m Roy Borden’s friend?”
She frowned, but she didn’t open her eyes or turn away from the sun. “What do you mean?”
“How much does it matter?” he persisted, his heart beginning to pound.
“Why should it matter to me?” she asked. “I don’t understand.”
Colin took a deep breath and plunged ahead. “Would you still like me if I wasn’t Roy’s friend?”
Now she turned her head toward him and opened her eyes. “Are you serious?”
“Yeah.”
She rolled onto her side and rose on one elbow to face him. The wind stirred her hair. “You mean you think maybe I’m interested in you only because you’re the best friend of the school big shot?”
Colin blushed. “Well…”
“That’s a terrible thing to think,” she said, but she didn’t sound angry.
He shrugged, embarrassed but still anxious to hear her answer.
“And it’s insulting,” she said.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, placatingly. “I didn’t mean it that way. It’s just… I had to ask. It’s important to know if you-”
“I like you because you’re you,” Heather said. “I’m here right now because you’re fun to be with. Roy Borden doesn’t have anything to do with it. Actually, I’m here in spite of the fact that you’re his buddy.”
“Huh?”
“I’m one of the few people at school who doesn’t really care what Roy does or says or thinks. Most everyone wants to be his friend, but I don’t particularly care if he even knows I exist.”
Colin blinked, surprised. “You don’t like Roy?”
She hesitated, then said, “He’s your friend. I don’t want to talk against him.”
“But that’s just it,” Colin said excitedly. “He isn’t my friend any more. He hates me.”
“What? What happened?”
“I’ll tell you in a minute. Don’t worry about that. I’ve been just about bursting to tell someone.” Colin sat up on his beach towel. “But first I’ve got to know what you think of him. I thought you liked him. One of the first things you said to me was that you’d seen me with Roy. So I figured-”
“I was just curious about you and him,” she said. “You didn’t seem like the kind of guy who usually hangs around with him. And the better I’ve gotten to know you, the stranger it seems.”
“Tell me why you don’t like him.”
She sat up, too.
The ocean wind was warm and salt-scented.
“Well,” she said, “I don’t exactly dislike him. Not a lot. I mean, not actively or passionately or anything. I
