“She hasn’t moved into the master yet. Maybe she has a bit of heart.”
“Maybe she’s just afraid Alice will haunt her,” suggested Mariska, poking in her head. “She certainly didn’t have any trouble emptying the room.”
Charlotte glanced into a hall bathroom and then moved to the only remaining bedroom. Clothes lay strewn on every available surface and the walls had been painted a vaguely disturbing deep maroon, which peeked out from behind posters obviously hung back when the girl was in high school. A large jewelry box lay on its side on top of the dresser, costume jewelry spilling from it.
“Looks like she was rifling through Alice’s keepsake boxes,” said Charlotte, shining her flashlight across the mess.
Darla took the light from her and entered as Mariska tapped Charlotte on the shoulder. “I don’t know how we’re ever going to find anything in this place. You never kept your room like this.”
“I know. I’m an angel.”
“You are. You just had piles of books—”
The sound of a door opening and a man and woman laughing echoed from the front room. Mariska gasped and Charlotte pushed her into Crystal’s bedroom, closing the door behind them without securing it. Darla had been hunched over a drawer searching through clothes for incriminating evidence, but now stood ramrod straight, her eyes so wide the whites nearly lit the room.
Charlotte took the flashlight from her and extinguished it. They could still see the shape of each other by the dim kitchen light slipping through the cracked-open bedroom door.
“She’s back! What are we going to do?” hissed Darla.
Mariska opened her mouth to say something and Darla slapped her hand over her friend’s mouth.
“Mariska, you don’t say a word. You are incapable of whispering.”
Mariska nodded and Darla dropped her hand.
Charlotte glanced at the window. There was no way they could open it and crawl outside without making a racket. Out front, Crystal and her male friend cracked open cans as they talked and laughed in the kitchen. They sounded drunk.
Charlotte made a decision.
“We might have a second to make it to Alice’s room. We’ve got a better chance they won’t go in there.”
She opened the bedroom door and guided Mariska and Darla past her into the hallway, where the ladies bolted for the other bedroom. Charlotte was about to follow when she heard voices growing closer, followed by a wet, sloppy noise that sounded like kissing.
Ick.
Fearing her chance to sneak into the hall had closed, Charlotte jumped back into Crystal’s room. She ran to the closet and opened it, flashing her light inside.
Full. She’d never fit inside without boxes raining on her head. Snuffing her light, she dropped to the ground on the far side of the bed as the smooching couple banged into the bedroom door, bumping it open. The light flicked on.
Flattening herself, Charlotte shimmied beneath the bed, both stunned and relieved to find the area clear of debris. No sooner had she slipped under, than the lovers collapsed on top of the bed above her.
Charlotte closed her eyes.
Oh no. Oh please no. Don’t let this happen.
“Ow! You’ve got a ton of crap on this bed,” said the man. Charlotte assumed it was Mark.
Crystal giggled. “Sorry. Hey, you want to smoke a little first?”
“You got some?”
Charlotte heard no answer but saw Crystal’s bare feet appear on the floor beside her. They walked to the closet, where she heard rustling as the young woman searched for what Charlotte assumed was marijuana. After hearing Mariska and Darla talk about the girl for two days, she had every reason to suspect worse, but Crystal’s drug problems were the least of hers right now. She had to get herself and the ladies out of the house. Preferably before the couple had sex on her head.
The rustling noise stopped, but Crystal’s feet remained planted in front of the closet.
“What are you doing?” asked Mark.
“Sshhh.”
“What are you shushin’ me for? You got the stuff or what? I don’t have all day.”
“Shut up!”
Charlotte heard Crystal’s voice crack. The vehemence with which she’d delivered her command and the sob in her voice sounded wildly out of synch with her previous mood.
“Did you just tell me to shut up?” roared the man. The bed shook and Charlotte guessed he’d sat up.
“I’m readin’ somethin’!”
“Well quit readin’ somethin’ and get over here.”
Crystal’s voice dropped. “Get out.”
“What?”
“I said get out!”
“Hey!” Something clattered and what looked like a small wooden pipe and a shoebox skittered across the floor where Charlotte could see them. She guessed Crystal had thrown her box of drug paraphernalia at the man.
Charlotte winced. Mark didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would take kindly to things being thrown at him. She feared his response.
Mark’s feet appeared on the floor as he marched toward Crystal.
“Who do you think you’re throwing things at?”
Crystal screamed and Charlotte heard slapping noises as the two wrestled. Charlotte’s heart raced. She couldn’t hide there while Mark killed Crystal. She was about to slide from her hiding space to help, when Mark spat a final profanity and stormed from the room.
A moment later, the front door slammed.
Crystal released a string of loud, racking sobs and the bed shook as she threw herself on it. “I’m sorry,” she moaned. “I’m so sorry.”
Charlotte released a long quiet sigh and lay still until Crystal’s crying stopped. Not long after that, she heard a snort. She recognized the sound.
Snoring.
Charlotte slid out from under the bed as quietly as she could and stood.
Crystal lay passed-out on the bed, her hands balled at her
