her hands up onto the bottom of the fifth tread, then pulled them toward her. For a second she thought nothing was going to happen, but then — just as she was about to give up — she felt a slight movement. Pressing even harder, she pulled again, and for a moment it seemed as if the entire tread was moving toward her.
“Wow,” Seth breathed. “Look at that!”
Angel kept easing the wood forward, until Seth, who was crouched down low so he could peer up at the bottom of the tread, said, “Hold it — I see something!”
“What?” Angel asked.
“It’s like the whole back and bottom of the tread is fake,” he said, poking his fingers up into some kind of cavity that had appeared in the bottom of the tread. A second later, his voice trembling, he whispered, “There’s something in it. See if you can pull it a little farther.”
Angel reached back so her fingertips curled around the edge of the false bottom, and she pulled. The panel slid stiffly for a moment, then suddenly came loose, sliding entirely free of the tread.
Something dropped from the cavity that had been concealed above the sliding panel, falling into Seth’s hands.
Neither of them said a word, but simply stared at the object. It was a book, bound in leather that was embossed with faded gold lettering. The letters were so ornate that even if the gilt had not all but vanished, neither of them could have made out what they said. Though the leather of the cover looked almost new, there was still something about it that told them it was far older than it appeared.
And its color was exactly the same as the color of the lipstick Angel had found on the floor that morning, and on her fingers, and on the sheets.
Red.
Bloodred.
Chapter 22
ET’S TAKE IT UPSTAIRS, SO WE CAN AT LEAST SEE IT,” Seth said. “And so I can stand up straight too,” he added, awkwardly scuttling out from under the stairs and standing up to stretch the muscles that had begun to ache as he crouched beneath the steep staircase.
Houdini rose to his feet too, stretched, then darted up the stairs to the kitchen.
Angel paused only long enough to replace the sliding panel that hid the compartment carved out of the bottom of the fifth stair. Fitting the two dovetailed tongues on the panel into the matching grooves on the stair step, she pushed it forward until it was exactly as they’d found it a few minutes ago. Shining the light on it one more time to make certain that nothing betrayed its secret, she turned off the two basement lights and followed Seth up to the kitchen, where he was standing at the table, staring down at the book.
Houdini was on the kitchen table, sniffing at it, and as Angel came near, he looked up at her, placed his right forepaw on the volume, and mewed softly.
In the full light of day, the cover looked even redder, but they could also clearly see how old it was. The gilt was all but gone on the ornate symbols, and though the leather itself was uncracked, parts of its polished surface were worn to the texture of suede. Seth was about to open it when Houdini whirled to face the front of the house, his back arched and the hairs on his body standing on end.
As a hiss of warning erupted from the cat’s throat, Seth yanked his hand away from the book.
“What’s wrong with him?” he asked, staring at the cat. “He’s acting like he’s going to bite me!”
“It’s not you,” Angel said. “It’s my dad! I hear his car!”
Seth’s eyes widened. “Maybe we better put the book back!”
“And have him find us in the basement? He’d want to know what we were doing!” Her eyes flicked around the kitchen. “Where can we hide it?”
Seth picked up the book, shoved it in his backpack, and headed toward the back door. “Come on!”
Waiting only long enough to return the flashlight and grab her own backpack so her father wouldn’t know she’d been home, Angel darted out the back door just as she heard the roar of the old Che-velle’s engine cut off. She caught up with Seth as the car door slammed, and when her father would have gotten to the front door, they were running down a narrow path that wound into the forest. By the time her father might have glanced out the back window, they were deep enough into the woods that he wouldn’t be able to see them at all.
And Houdini was with them every step of the way.
“Where are we going?” Angel asked when Seth finally slowed down.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Have you ever come back here since you moved in?” Angel shook her head. “This path leads to the old crossing, where the ferry used to be.”
Suddenly, Houdini let out a howl, then veered off the narrow path, heading into the trees.
“Houdini!” Angel called. “Come back!”
The cat paused, looked back, meowed, then continued moving deeper into the woods.
“Where’s he going?” Angel asked.
Seth shrugged. “How should I know? But I’m not going with him — there isn’t even a path there.”
Turning away, he started once more along the path that led to Black Creek Crossing. Angel, after another anxious glance at the cat, followed.
Less than half a minute later Houdini appeared on the path a few yards ahead of them. Once again his back was arched and he was hissing and spitting.
Seth stopped so fast that Angel almost bumped into him. “Jeez, what’s wrong with him?” He took a step toward the cat, but jerked back when the cat’s paw shot out, swiping at his leg.
Angel stooped down and extended her hand, but once again the cat took a swipe with his paw.
“Maybe he’s rabid,” Seth suggested.
Angel rolled her eyes. “He was fine a minute ago.”
“Then let’s just go around him.” Seth stepped off the path, starting around Houdini.
The cat moved, blocking his way, and hissed again.
Seth moved the other way.
The cat countered, hissing angrily.
“All right, all right,” Seth said, holding up his hands and backing off. He turned to Angel. “So now what do we do? Your dad’s back at your house, and your cat won’t let us down the path.”
Then Houdini was at Seth’s feet, rubbing up against his legs as if nothing had happened. Seth stared down at the cat, mystified. “What’s going on?” he asked Angel. “Is he crazy?”
“How should I know? He’s not my cat!”
But now Houdini was rubbing up against her legs as well, and a moment later he bounded back down the path the way they’d come, but stopping a few yards away to turn, mewing plaintively.
When neither Angel nor Seth moved, he darted toward them, meowed, then turned back.
“If he was a dog, I’d think he wants us to follow him,” Seth said. “But cats don’t do that, do they?”
Now it was Angel who shrugged. “Maybe we should try it.” She glanced around at the dense forest of maples and oaks and pines. “What if we get lost?”
“I’ve been poking around here all my life,” Seth told her. “I’ve never gotten lost yet. Come on — let’s at least try it.”
Houdini stayed on the path until they came back to the point where he’d left it a few minutes ago, and once again he veered off, pausing a few yards into the woods and looking back as if to see whether Angel and Seth were following.
“Are you sure we won’t get lost?” Angel fretted.
“We can’t — the road’s a few hundred yards to the left, and the creek’s off to the right. No matter where that stupid cat goes, we’ll be able to find one of them or the other.”
They followed the cat as it moved through the woods, down a path neither of them could see. But the cat nevertheless seemed to know where it was going. After a few minutes they came to the creek, which was no more than twenty feet wide, and shallow enough that many of the rocks lining the bottom cleared the surface and
