One Tiny Secret

Chapter Thirty Four

I kick off my slippers and put on the pair of red Chucks resting next to the front door. After hearing a few trick-or-treaters outside ransacking the bowl of candy, I decide to wait until they leave before I go out. When the coast is clear, I open the door and step onto the front porch. I slowly maneuver down the gravel path in front of our house, my eyes never leaving Janice’s window.

I draw out my cell and dial Parker’s hospital room, which I saved in my contacts earlier. I want to hear his voice one more time and tell him how I feel, just in case this is the last chance I get. My heart squeezes when I hear his strained hello.

“Parker? It’s Dani.”

“Hey, how are you?” he asks, and I wish I was able to continue with the small talk instead of saying what I have to tell him.

“Unknown has Phoebe tied up in Janice’s house, and I’m going to get her.”

“What? No! Dani, don’t do anything stupid, please.” The desperation in his voice tears at my heart.

“I have to, Parker.” When he tries to argue again, I simply say, “I love you,” and hang up.

I try my dad’s phone again, but it still rolls to voicemail. Disconnecting, I stuff the phone in my pocket. The thought of this possibly being the night I’m going to die enters my mind the closer I get to Janice’s house. I know I’m walking right into a trap, but there are really no alternatives. I have to do this. There’s no turning back now.

Making my way around the hedgerow that separates our houses, I run my fingers along the top of its abrasive leaves. I come to a sudden stop when I reach the beginning of the driveway. Hattie’s car is parked there. I fear the worst has happened to her.

Taking a few deep, calming breaths, I move forward. I find myself counting the steps it takes to reach the front door, trying to distract my nerves. I feel for the gun in the back of my pants, just to make sure it’s still there. The touch of the cold metal gives me a small sense of comfort.

Peering in through the little window on the front door, I can’t make out anything. It’s too dark. I take a hold of the handle and try to turn it, but it’s locked. Moving around to the side of the house by way of the wraparound porch, I stop at the door leading into the kitchen. Testing the knob, it turns, and I quietly open it. I step over the threshold and tiptoe a few feet into the kitchen, all the while staying aware of my surroundings.

The house is quiet and everything is still. I pull out the gun and hold it stiffly in my right hand, cupping my left one underneath it for stability. Feeling fortified, I head toward the foyer of the house and the main staircase. I have to restrain my gasp when I see Hattie lying at the bottom of the stairs. Her body is twisted in an awkward position.

I rush over to her side as quietly as I can and feel for a pulse. I pull back when I discover her skin is ice-cold. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s dead.

I aim the gun up the stairs before I take my first step. I try to tread softly on the old wood so as to not make them creak under the pressure. Reaching the second floor, I post up in the corner of the wall adjacent to the stairs. Janice’s room is across the hall. I notice the door is propped wide open. There’s a lamp on in the room, casting the space in the soft glow of its dim light.

My heartbeat quickens as I take a step toward her room. Passing the open door that leads into the bathroom, I quickly point the gun through the doorway while scanning the area inside. When I see no one, I continue moving to Janice’s room.

I draw in a deep, quiet breath when I feel my lungs start to burn from holding one in. Creeping forward, I enter the room and see Phoebe by the window. Her back is to me and she’s tied to a chair. Her body is limp, seeming like it’s only being held upright by the rope around her midsection. A shiver of worry runs through me when I fear she might already be gone.

Before I check on her, I do a quick visual sweep of the room with my gun in ready position. Seeing no sign of Unknown, I quickly turn to shut the door. I shriek when I unexpectedly come face to face with the red reaper mask.

The moment I raise the gun, he grabs my hands and forces me to point it into the air. It goes off and a shower of white dust from the ceiling rains down on us. He grabs my wrist and twists it back, causing the gun to fall to the ground as I cry out in pain.

His fist connects with my chin. I stagger backward, crashing into the bed. Before I can react, he tackles me. He straddles me as I try to struggle free from the chokehold he has on my neck. I pound on his chest in a frantic manner, fighting to take in air. Grabbing his hands, I attempt to pull them from around my neck, but can’t. His grip gets tighter as he shakes me back and forth.

I reach wildly around for anything to hit him with. My hand connects with something and I’m not even sure what it is, I just grab it. Thrusting it toward his head, I see that it’s an alarm clock. As it connects with the side of his face, he groans in pain and his grasp loosens. But he doesn’t let go. I swing again with more force, causing him to fall off the front of the bed onto the ground.

I sit up and scan the floor for the gun. Spotting it, I lunge for it and snatch it up. I leap to my feet and turn, aiming the gun right at the area Unknown landed on the floor.

He stands up and stops, staring at me. I watch him clutch his hands to his side, looking like he’s about to rush me. I pull the trigger, but no bullet fires. I rapidly click the top of the barrel back when he moves toward me.

I scream as I pull the trigger again, bracing for his impact. A loud bang deafens me. Unknown stops in front of me, bringing his hand up to the bullet hole in his shoulder. He turns his focus back to me and starts to lurch forward. I pull the trigger again and slug a bullet right through his chest, sending him falling to the ground.

I release a huge, shaky breath. Slumping against the wall, I try to regain my composure.

“It’s over,” I say. “It’s finally over.”

Unknown lies motionless on the floor. I kick his boot just to make sure he won’t move. When he doesn’t, I kick it again, making absolutely sure.

I have to find out who’s under the mask. I reach down to pull it up, then pause and move back. Hesitation comes over me and I aim the gun to his chest. I’m not taking any chances. Firing another shot, I see his body twitch from the force of the bullet.

I bend down to remove his mask. Pushing it back with the barrel of the gun, I’m shocked to see who’s underneath.

“Kevin?” Anger and sorrow hit me all at once. I kneel down next to him and pound on his chest. “Why?” I scream. I feel so betrayed…so stupid.

A moan from the chair next to me draws my attention to Phoebe. Her head rises up, and she begins looking around aimlessly, clearly dazed. As she starts to struggle, I jump to my feet and move closer to her. She looks so happy to see me. I slowly remove the tape from her mouth so she can speak.

“Dani!” she cries out the moment the tape is removed.

“I’m here, Phoebe. I’ve got you. Have you seen my father?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t remember much. I feel drugged or something.” She pauses for a second, then seems to become hyperaware. “Where is he?”

“He’s dead. Unknown’s dead,” I reply, starting to untie her. “It was Kevin.”

“Kevin? No. No way. That doesn’t make any sense.”

“Look,” I say, pointing to Kevin’s body after loosening the final knot in the rope.

“Oh my God! It was Kevin,” she says, covering her mouth in surprise.

A thud sounds from the closet on the opposite side of the room. “What was that?” I ask, standing up quickly.

“Let’s just get out of here, please?”

“Yeah, let’s go,” I respond, turning my attention to her.

The thud sounds again and I spin around to look at the closet door. When I go to move toward it, Phoebe grabs my hand.

“Don’t. Let’s just go, okay?”

“But something’s in there. There’s no more danger. Unknown’s gone,” I point out, shaking free of her hand.

Even with the killer’s body there on the ground, I still approach the closet with some apprehension. Turning the handle, I pull it open.

“Dad!” I shout when I see him propped up in the closet, bound and gagged. His eyes meet mine and they widen with shock. He tries to say something, but it sounds muffled behind the tape over his mouth.

“You should’ve listened to me,” Phoebe says behind me.

“What?”

“I told you not to look in the closet,” she replies.

As I turn to face her, pain blasts through the side of my head. My vision blurs and I stagger into the open closet door, trying to brace myself in order to keep upright. I fall to the ground, fading in and out of consciousness until there’s nothing around me but darkness.