Tony Hunt didn’t leave Alison Parker’s house and drive straight to Kipp’s. He stopped at the mall near his house first. He was hungry, and there were a dozen different places to eat there. Also, at the back of his mind, he hoped to accidentally run into Alison, who was supposed to go shopping with Brenda. He thought this was pretty ironic since he had just walked out on Alison. But he was beginning to accept as normal the contradictions between his thoughts and his actions. Nowadays his whole existence seemed one vast vat of confusion.
Tony didn’t know what was wrong with himself. Alison was leaving town, of course, but if he was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that he had been feeling anxious even before her invitation from NYU arrived. He tried to rationalize that the pain in his back must be throwing him off more than he realized. Yet he had been hurt before and hadn’t lost his sense of inner stability. As he examined his feelings, the clearer it became that his sense of confusion and foreboding had started with the arrival of Neil’s chain letter. Yet his anxiety hadn’t culminated with Neil’s death and then begun to heal. It continued even now to hang over his head. He missed Neil terribly, sure, but why the continuing feelings of anxiety and foreboding? Why not simply sorrow and loneliness? Those emotions would have been natural and easily explainable. It was almost as if nothing had ended with Neil’s death, except Neil.
Tony parked in the warm sun and walked into the mall. The cool air and shopper sounds enfolded him like a hug. He liked malls, which was odd because he seldom bought anything. But he could walk around in a mall for an hour and just observe people—so preoccupied with their latest purchases, so delighted with the silliest little things. He watched them but always felt separate from them. In fact, he felt closer to the mannequins in the windows. The silent observers. Hadn’t that been a line from Neil’s chain letter? I am the Observer, the Recorder. I am also the Punisher. Tony felt as if he were still being punished for a crime he wasn’t even sure he had committed. This was another feeling that had only begun in the last few months, long after they had buried the man in the desert.
Tony went to the food circle. His tastes were uncreative. He ordered a hamburger, fries, and a Coke from the McDonald’s—he figured he couldn’t go wrong with that. He had hoped Fran Darey might be working. The cashier told him that Fran had already left for the day. Fran was a high-strung worrywart, but she always had a smile and a kind word for him. Tony could hardly remember the last time Alison had looked happy to see him. God, girls changed when you got to know them. They turned into people with problems. People who wanted you to solve their problems.
Tony took his food into the center of the tables and sat beside the good-luck fountain, where for a tossed penny and a silent prayer all your wishes might come true. Tony pulled a nickel from his pocket and threw it into the splashing water. It was a good throw; it landed on the top circular tier. Alison was right—he had a hell of an arm. But no wish came to his mind, only the desire that his unhappiness be gone. He picked up his hamburger and took a bite. They had cooked it well done, just the way he liked it. A soft laugh sounded to his right.
“I make a wish every day at this time,” a girl said. “I don’t know if they don’t come true because I don’t know what I want or because I only use a penny.”
Tony looked over and was surprised to see a beautiful young woman at the next table. Her hair was long and shiny, an odd maroon so deep red it was almost black. Her green eyes shone bright above her full lips, which were painted a warm red. Her face was pale, but cute freckles played around her shapely nose and her innocent dimples. She was drinking a cup of coffee and reading a magazine. Her dress was entirely white, like that of a nurse. She smiled as his eyes met hers, and he found himself smiling in return.
“Maybe we should use quarters,” he said.
She nodded. “Then we could do a month’s worth of wishing in one throw.”
He gestured around them. “You come here a lot?”
“For lunch, yeah. I work near here. At the hospital.”
“What do you do?”
She made a face. “Today I’m drawing blood. Exciting, huh?”
“You don’t like your job?”
She shrugged. “It’s a job. It pays the bills. What do you do?”
He didn’t want to sound as if he’d just graduated from high school. He put her age at about twenty-one, two years older than he was. “I’m in college,” he muttered.
“I was in college once. Where do you go?”
It was his plan to attend a local junior college for the first two years. Without an athletic scholarship, he couldn’t afford anything else. But he gave Alison’s first choice of schools because it sounded more impressive. He didn’t know why he wanted to impress this girl. It wasn’t normally his style.
“UCLA,” he said.
“That’s where I went to school! It’s a neat campus, isn’t it?”
“I like it.”
“What’s your major?” she asked. She had a wonderful voice. It conveyed warmth and excitement at the same time.
“I’d like to be a teacher,” he said. “But I haven’t settled on a definite major.”
“It’s a bitch having to choose, isn’t it? I’m not even in school, and I’m still changing my major.” She nodded to his food. “Your hamburger’s getting cold. I should leave you alone and let you eat.”
Tony paused. She was right. He should finish his food and get on with his day. Kipp would be waiting for him. But he suddenly realized he was enjoying himself, chatting with this stranger about odds and ends. He used to have fun with Alison like this, back when they could communicate.
“I can eat and talk at the same time,” he said. “What’s your name?”
“Sasha.” She offered her hand across the five feet that separated them. “What’s yours?”
“Tony Hunt.” He shook her hand. Her skin was soft, like Alison’s, but her grip was firm. “I’m pleased to meet you, Sasha.”
She smiled again. Her teeth were a little crooked, but still nice. “You know, you look kind of familiar,” she said. “Have I seen you before?”
He suspected she had seen his picture in the papers, extolling his accomplishments on the football field. He didn’t want to tell her that though. Then she would know he had just graduated. Besides, she might want to talk about football, and nothing bored him more.
“You might have seen me here,” he said. “I come here often enough.”
“I suppose.” She frowned slightly. “Is there something wrong with your neck or your back?”
She had caught him off guard. “Why do you ask?”
“The way you hold yourself. You look stiff.”
His chiropractor had been able to spot the problem just by looking at him, but no one else had ever commented on it before. Sasha must be a very perceptive young woman, he thought.
“It’s an old sports injury,” he said. “It flares up every now and then.”
“I’m considering being a physical therapist,” Sasha said. “I’ll have to go back to school to get certified, but I’ve been studying a lot on my own about deep-tissue massage. You should get a massage. It can give tremendous relief.”
Tony smiled shyly but spoke boldly. “If you ever want someone to practice on, give me a call.”
Sasha surprised him. “I could give you a massage.” She reached for her purse. “You can give me a call if you want one.”
Tony shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Although he was pleased that he might be seeing Sasha again, guilt weighed heavy on him. If Alison had solicited the number of another guy, and he caught her, he would have been furious. On the other hand, he thought, Alison would probably be giving out her number soon enough—in New York. Besides, it wasn’t like he was making a date with Sasha. She was just going to give him a massage. . . .
“That’s very nice of you,” he said. “I wouldn’t mind trying it—What did you call it?”
“A deep-tissue massage.” She scribbled down her number on a scrap of paper and handed it to him. “It was nice to meet you, Tony.” She grabbed her purse and stood up. “Call me any evening. I’m usually home.”
He studied her number. It was local. He stood to say goodbye to her. “It was nice meeting you, Sasha.”
She smiled one last time and tapped him lightly on the shoulder as she turned away. She had a sweet smile, innocent and carefree.
“Later,” she said.
“Yeah, sure,” he replied. He watched as she disappeared in the crowd. He had been so enchanted with her voice and face, he had hardly noticed her excellent figure, much fuller than Alison’s.
Enchanted.
There had been something enchanting about Sasha. Tony looked once more at the number in his hand and stuffed it in his pocket. He left the mall without finishing his lunch.
· · ·
Kipp Coughlan was pulling into his driveway when Tony Hunt arrived at his house. Tony parked behind him and got out of his car.
“I’m glad you weren’t waiting for me,” Tony said.
“Were you here earlier?” Kipp asked, his expression good-natured as usual. He had fair hair, a big nose, and even bigger ears, which made him appear silly. But his dark eyes were sharp, and so was his mind. Kipp was heading for MIT in a couple of weeks to study aeronautical engineering. He had been the class valedictorian.
“No. I stopped at the mall for a bite,” Tony said.
“Too bad, I was hoping we could eat together.” Kipp walked toward his front door, a brown paper bag in his hand. “I’m watching Leslie.”
Leslie was Kipp’s little sister. They were devoted to each other. She was seven years old and every bit as smart as her brother.
“Did you go out and leave her alone?” Tony asked, following Kipp into the house. Kipp gestured to the bag he was carrying.
“I had to,” Kipp said. “She found an injured bird in the backyard. Its wing is broken. A cat might have got hold of it. Anyway, she ordered me to go get it birdseed while she tended to it. She said if she left the bird, it would die.”
Just then Leslie appeared in the living room. She didn’t have her brother’s ears, but she had his nose. She could best be described as charming rather than pretty. Her fair hair was the same shade as Kipp’s, and they had similar mannerisms, the most noticeable being the tendency to talk with their hands when they were excited. Leslie was excited now. She hurried to collect the birdseed.
“Hi, Tony,” she said. “Did Kipp tell you about the bird with the broken wing that flew in my window?”
“Yes,” Tony said, glancing at Kipp and smiling. “He told me you were nursing it back to health. That’s kind of you—helping the poor thing.”
“Did you get the baby bird kind?” Leslie asked Kipp as she peered into the bag.
“I didn’t know baby birds ate different food from big birds,” Kipp said. He gave the bag to his sister. “I bet the bird doesn’t know the difference, either.”
“I bet he does,” Leslie said seriously, running off with the bag.
“Cute,” Tony said, watching her go.
“Yeah. Too bad we can’t bottle it and sell it.” Kipp headed for the stairs. “Did you see Alison today?”
“Yeah.”
“How was it?”
“How was what?” Tony asked, following him up to the second floor.
“The sex.”
“We didn’t have sex.”
“Why not?” Kipp asked.
“We don’t have sex every time we get together. I’m sure you and Brenda don’t, either.”
“Yeah, but we have an excuse.”
“What’s that?” Tony asked.
“Brenda isn’t attracted to me.”
They entered Kipp’s bedroom. Tony noticed the faded bloodstain on the carpet. When Neil, in his Caretaker craziness, had abducted Kipp, he had soaked the bed and surrounding area with blood. Only later had they learned that the blood had been Neil’s, slowly siphoned from his veins over a period of time. It still boggled Tony that Neil, in his weakened condition, had had the strength to kidnap Kipp. Neil had done a lot of amazing things back during the days of the chain letters—some were almost supernatural.
“I’m always happy when I come in my room and see that someone’s called me,” Kipp said, reaching for his phone. “Usually it’s just Brenda or you or somebody trying to sell me life insurance. But just before I check the messages, I always have a hope that a gorgeous babe has seen me on the street, somehow found out my number, and has called to ask me out. I don’t know why I never stop hoping.”
“Aren’t you and Brenda getting along?” Tony asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“We’re going through a rough period right now.”
“Any particular reason?”
“I think it’s because she doesn’t like me anymore.”
“I know the feeling,” Tony mumbled.
Kipp was surprised. “Is Ali still going to New York?”
“Looks like it.”
“What a bitch. You’re better off without her.”
“I guess,” Tony said miserably. He shook his head. “Doesn’t it depress you when Brenda acts like she doesn’t care?”
“No. I’m used to it. It depresses me when she doesn’t want to have sex. But I’m getting used to that, too. Just a second, let’s see who called.”
Kipp played his messages. There was only one. It was from Alison, and she sounded worried. She wanted Kipp to call her at Fran’s house as soon as he got in. Kipp looked at Tony for an explanation. Tony didn’t have one.
“I don’t think it has anything to do with me,” Tony said.
“Don’t you want to call her instead of me?” Kipp asked.
“No.”
“Come on.”
“No, I don’t,” Tony said. “Honestly.”
“What did you two fight about today?”
“Her leaving. My not wanting to play football anymore. Our sex life. Her wanting to date other guys.”
“She wants to date other guys? Alison? Did she say that?”
“Not exactly,” Tony admitted.
“I don’t believe it. Forget what I said a moment ago about her being a bitch. Alison’s a great girl. There’s something special when you two are together. There’s a kind of magic in the air.”
“There won’t be any magic in a couple of weeks. She’ll be gone.”
Kipp came over and sat beside Tony on the bed. He put his hand on his shoulder. “Hey, buddy, you sound really bummed about this.”
Tony nodded weakly. “I am. I’m embarrassed by the way I feel because I’ve never felt this way before. I just feel like if she goes I’ll lose her forever.”
“It won’t happen. I’m your friend and I’m leaving, but I’m still going to be your friend. Alison will be, too. She loves you. Anyone can see it.”
Tony barely smiled. Before the chain letter began, he and Kipp hadn’t been real close. Now Kipp was his best friend. There was nothing like a shared trauma to bring people together. He appreciated what Kipp was saying. The trouble was, he didn’t believe it. Alison was attracted to him. She had fun with him. She might even have been attached to him, but she didn’t love him. You didn’t leave the one you love, not for any reason.
“We’ll see” was all Tony could say.
“You sure you don’t want to call her?” Kipp asked. “She does sound upset.”
Tony shrugged. “I guess it wouldn’t hurt.” Tony reached for the phone. “Do you know Fran’s number?”
“It’s button number six.”
Tony pushed the appropriate button. The phone rang only once before it was picked up by Fran. “Hello?” she said.
“Fran, this is Tony. Is Alison there?”
“Yeah.”
“Could I speak to her?” Fran was slow in answering. “Is there something wrong?” Tony asked.
“Here’s Ali,” Fran said finally. Tony listened while the phone shifted hands. Alison came on the line. Her tone of voice was low.
“Where are you, Tony?” she asked.
“I’m at Kipp’s house.”
“Is Kipp there?”
“Yeah. He’s sitting beside me. What’s wrong?”
Alison paused. “I don’t know how to say this.”
Tony’s heart pounded loudly in his own ears. Here it came—the big goodbye. We had some good times, Tony, but you’re right. I should date other guys. I should have a variety of lovers. You just don’t satisfy me anymore. Not like this guy I met this afternoon. Boy, does he have all the right stuff. I’ll always love you, Tony, but you know a girl always says that when she’s dumping a guy for another guy.
“Just say it,” he whispered.
“Tony?”
“I’m here. Say it.”
There was another long pause. “Somebody’s sent us another chain letter.”
Tony couldn’t comprehend what she was saying for a moment. “What?” he asked.
“Fran got another chain letter in the mail this morning. It’s a lot like the ones Neil sent. If Kipp’s there, ask him if he sent it.” Her voice was almost trembling. “Tell him it’s not funny.”
Tony put his hand over the phone. “Did you send Fran a chain letter as a joke?” he asked Kipp.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes. What’s this about?”
“I’m trying to find out.” Tony took his hand off the phone and spoke to Alison again. “Kipp did not send a letter to Fran.”
“Could he be pulling your leg?” Alison asked.
Tony glanced at Kipp, who seemed to be worried. Kipp didn’t worry easily. “No,” Tony said. “Read me the letter.”
Alison read it to him all the way through, and with each sentence Tony found himself sinking deeper into the bed. With Neil’s first letters it had been the tone that was more disturbing than any specific threats. For they sounded as if they had been written by a brilliant madman, capable of great evil. Even after it had been revealed that Neil was the Caretaker, Tony had never been able to reconcile his friend with writing the letters. They had been so crafty, and Neil had always been so simple. It was almost as if the letters had been dictated to Neil by someone else.
“I kept wondering and worrying and I tried, but this thing got in my head and I couldn’t get rid of it. I don’t know where it came from. It was like a voice, saying this is true and this is a lie. It wouldn’t shut up! I had to listen, and I did listen, and then . . . I did all this.”
“Are you still there?” Alison asked.
“Yes.” Tony swallowed. His heart continued to pound—for a different reason now. Yet it was funny—the reasons may have been different, but the anxiety remained the same. It was almost as if his concern over Alison leaving and dating other guys had just culminated in the arrival of the chain letter. In a way he wasn’t surprised another one had come.
“There’s an ad in the paper,” Alison continued. “It’s in code like the letter said it would be. It says Fran has to drown her puppy tonight.”
Tony had to take a breath. “That’s pretty gross.”
“Tony, it’s got to be a prank. Do you think Joan sent this?”
“I don’t know. I’d have to ask her. Have you called her?”
“No. I thought you should. You know her better than I do.”
“I don’t know her that well.”
“I didn’t mean anything by it,” Alison said.
“I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, so am I.” Alison sighed. “This is the last thing I need in my life right now.”
“At least this new Caretaker won’t have your address in New York.”
“Tony, I’m not even listed at the bottom of the letter. Did I tell you that?”
“No.”
“It’s interesting, don’t you think?”
Tony stopped. When he spoke next, his voice was cold. “Are you suggesting that I sent that letter?”
Alison sounded dismayed. “I don’t see how you can think I’d even suggest that. Tony, what’s wrong with you? Why are you treating me this way?”
Tony closed his eyes. They were in trouble again, and he had to be cool. Ultimately he was responsible for them being in this situation. After all, he had been the one who had been driving when they hit the man.
“I’m in a bad mood, that’s all,” he said. “Where was the letter mailed from?”
“Locally.”
“Just like before. How’s Fran holding up?”
“She’s freaking. Who wouldn’t? This letter’s a lot nastier than the ones Neil sent. It says she’s to be horribly killed if she doesn’t drown her puppy. What should I tell her?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “I’ll talk to Joan and get back to you. I’ll try to get her right now. OK?”
“OK. Call me back even if you don’t get her. And Tony?”
“What?”
Alison hesitated. “Nothing.”
Tony hung up the phone and related the wording of the letter as best as he could to Kipp. His friend was not amused. He stood and paced the room.
“If Joan didn’t send it, then someone outside the group must have got hold of one of Neil’s letters,” Kipp said.
“Is that possible?” Tony said. “His house burned down. He burned it down with the man’s body in it. You remember how he tried to make it look like he had died in the fire? Then, Neil didn’t have any letters on him when he died later. I was with him.”
“Did we destroy all the letters Neil sent us?” Kipp asked.
“Yeah, I’m sure we did.”
“It doesn’t really matter. Any one of us could have reconstructed those letters from memory.” Kipp thought some more. “Call Joan right now.”
Tony dialed her number. He knew it from memory. He had actually been closer to Joan than Alison realized. He had once come within a finger’s inch of having sex with her. Sometimes, when things were rough with Alison, he fantasized about calling Joan again and continuing their affair. But he never did. Joan was so gorgeously gross, she intimidated him. Plus he would never cheat on Alison.
He got her mother. Joan was completely unavailable, Mrs. Zuchlensky reported. She was backpacking in Yosemite with friends and wouldn’t be home for three days. Tony left the message that she should return his call as soon as possible. He set down the phone and turned back to Kipp.
“Joan’s up in the mountains,” Tony said. “She’s unreachable until Thursday.”
“That’s convenient,” Kipp said.
“Yes and no. If Joan was pulling a prank like this, she would have to stay around. Her absence would cast suspicion on her.”
“That’s true,” Kipp said. “Is it possible Fran and Brenda and Alison are playing a prank on us?”
Tony remembered the fear in Alison’s voice. “I somehow doubt it.”
“But Alison is mad at you.”
Tony shook his head. “This isn’t her style.”
Kipp walked over to his window and stared out. “Then we might have ourselves a big problem. Another Caretaker—Jesus, who would have thought. Alison’s right, this guy sounds a lot nastier than Neil did.”
“Do you honestly think Fran’s in danger? I’ve got to call Alison back and tell them something.”
Kipp smiled, but it wasn’t because he was happy. “I don’t think she’ll be in danger if she drowns her puppy.”
“Kipp! She’s not going to do that.”
Kipp was sympathetic. “I know. Call them and tell them Joan’s in the mountains. Tell them it’s probably just her idea of a sick joke.”
“Alison won’t buy it. This letter was mailed locally.”
“How long has Joan been camping?”
“Her mom said a week already,” Tony said.
“That’s not good.” Kipp sat down beside Tony. “Can I ask you a stupid question?”
“Sure.”
“Do you want to go to the police with the letter?”
Tony was horrified by the idea. “If we do that we’ll have to explain everything—the whole story will come out. They’ll put us in jail.”
“It was just a suggestion. It would be a crazy thing to do without talking to Joan first. When did you say she’d be back?”
“Thursday.”
“When does the next person on the list have to receive the chain letter?”
“Thursday,” Tony said.
Kipp laughed. It was his way of coping with the stress, Tony understood. Their situation was totally preposterous. “Then if Fran is still alive on Thursday, we’ll have nothing to worry about.”
Tony nodded. “She’ll be fine.”
But his words sounded hollow even to himself. Like when he was trying to tell himself Alison loved him, when he knew in the end she was going to leave him.