CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
They didn’t have to wait long. Amidst the laughter, a figure materialized and began to cross the lawn. It was heading right for them.
‘Shit,’ said Trisha. ‘Stay down.’
‘What’s Selena doing?’ Michaela whispered.
‘Freaking out,’ Trisha told her. ‘And I bloody well would be too. Fuck that’s horrible.’
Michaela couldn’t have agreed more. What was worse, it looked so much like what it was meant to be – a ghost of a small girl. It had to be a doll, but it was glowing horribly. White skin, white hair, and an odd, greenish glow, as if newly risen from some damp, watery grave… Michaela pinched herself. It was a con, she reminded herself, and swallowed down the sudden taste of the slimy water from the pool house.
Trisha’s fingers clamped down on her arm. The ghost doll was coming closer. Drifting about a foot above the ground, but heading their way. And as it came closer they saw something else.
A dark figure was walking behind it. A figure dressed from head to toe in black. Michaela stared over the bank at it. She could barely make him out even from this close. He was lucky the night was so dark. Moonrise was an hour or more off, she guessed, and the sky was cloaked in clouds.
The figure and Michaela had no doubt whatsoever that it was Joseph Gardener under there, had a balaclava pulled down over his head, and gloves on his hand. There wasn’t an inch of exposed, pale skin anywhere. And his arm was outstretched, holding out a doll that looked just like a dead little girl.
Got him.
He passed about three feet in front of them and they both tucked their heads down out of sight. Michaela didn’t think he’d be looking in their direction, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Trisha felt the same. In the darkness, their hands found each other and they held on tight. Michaela wouldn’t have been surprised if her heartbeat would give them away. She held her breath.
The two figures, one real, one not, passed away into the trees.
‘Where’s he going?’ Trisha asked.
Michaela had her suspicions and she hoped to God she was wrong. ‘Is Selena following?’ she asked then looked for herself.
Mrs. Gardener, in her dressing gown, was hurrying across the wet lawn after the ghostly girl.
‘She thinks it’s her daughter, doesn’t she? How could anyone do that to their mother?’ said Trisha, and there were anger and horror in her voice. She started scrabbling up the bank. ‘We have to follow them.’
Michaela climbed up onto solid ground too and they crept back into the trees, Michaela wincing with every twig cracking under their feet.
‘He’s going to the pool house, isn’t he?’ Trisha was talking so quietly Michaela could barely hear her. ‘Where the little girl drowned. What an asshole.’
Michael shushed her. ‘Can you see them?’ she whispered.
She felt Trisha shake her head. ‘Me neither. We’d better move quickly.’
It was hard going, groping from tree to tree. Michaela didn’t dare to turn the light on. They needed a surprise on their side. After what seemed an age, the pool house loomed out of the darkness in front of them.
‘The doors,’ hissed Trisha.
They were standing wide open. A soft shuffling noise came from inside the building. Michaela grabbed Trisha.
‘Quickly,’ she said. ‘Now.’
Michaela bounded up the steps, forgetting completely how her head hurt and her muscles ached. She hesitated in the doorway, then flung herself down the steps, aware of Trisha right behind her.
Gardener stood at the bottom of the steps, the limp form on his mother at his feet. He was holding a flashlight and Michaela watched in horror as he raised a booted foot and kicked the lifeless body of his mother into the dark mouth of the pool.
Michaela screamed, taking the last few steps at a leap, and without stopping to think, she dived into the pool. The water closed around her in a nightmarish embrace and she thrashed out blindly, groping for Selena. She must be somewhere.
Somewhere here. Lungs beginning to burn, Michaela cast around, getting tangled in weeds. Somewhere. Somewhere, where?
Her hands closed on cloth. Relief flooded through her body and she pulled Selena close, wrapping her arms around the unresponsive woman’s waist and kicking for the surface.
Gasping, gagging, she towed the old woman to the side of the pool. She was aware of light somewhere but concentrated on getting Selena up out of the water. The bottom of the pool was too slimy to get a grip on as she tried to live Selena out of the water. She was going to have to get out first and pull her out.
Hands reached down and latched onto the woman’s dressing gown, heaving her from the water. They came back and grasped Michaela’s pulling her from the water for the second time.
‘Trisha!’ Michaela knelt on the edge of the pool, looked around for Gardener. He lay slumped prone on the floor of the pool house, face downwards. Trisha was standing between them. She waved the torch at Michaela and grinned.
‘It was payback time,’ she said.
Michaela couldn’t help it. On hands and knees, soaking wet, she started grinning. Until she saw Selena, still lying motionless. ‘Selena,’ she said and crawled over to her. She checked the woman. ‘She’s not breathing,’ she said.
Trisha was shaking her head. ‘We have to get her out of here,’ she said. ‘Gardener might come round at any time.’ She bent down and did something to him. A moment later she stood up, holding up something. ‘The key,’ she said. ‘We’ll lock him in here.’
Michaela didn’t bother to reply. She heaved herself to her feet and bent down to pick up Selena. She didn’t like the way the old woman’s head rolled against her shoulder. She hurried up the stairs and out into the dark clearing. She lay the woman down on the ground and checked her airways. Not breathing. Damnit. She tipped her head back, pinched her nose and blew three breaths into Selena’s lungs.
Then she leaned over her chest and began compressions, counting them aloud. Trisha came to her side. ‘He’s locked in. Is she okay?’
Michaela shook her head. ‘Ambulance, police,’ she said and breathed into Selena’s lungs again.