All the Pretty Dead Girls Part 29

"Well, I should hardly know for what." Gregory sighed. "These killings date back over a hundred years, since almost the very beginning of the college." He made a great show of sadness. "When I think of those poor girls, so many over the years..."

"And it's not mentioned in any of your literature."

Gregory gave him a wry smile. "Would you you publicize such a thing, Deputy? I'm just waiting until some enterprising reporter finds all this out and writes a sweeping history of the tragedies here. Enrollment will plummet." publicize such a thing, Deputy? I'm just waiting until some enterprising reporter finds all this out and writes a sweeping history of the tragedies here. Enrollment will plummet."

"Yet no enterprising reporter ever has has written such a story," Perry said. "Don't you find that odd?" written such a story," Perry said. "Don't you find that odd?"

"Yes," Gregory said, nodding. "Yes, I do."

"Why do you suppose that is?"

"I'm not sure. But I suppose it's inevitable."

"My father was one of the few who even remembered that such things had happened here before," Perry told the dean. "When he jogged people's memories, they'd recall the murders-but only if he reminded them. People just don't seem to remember them on their own."

"Strange, isn't it?" Gregory gave him a sympathetic look. "I suppose it's human nature to try to block out such tragedy from our minds."

"Well, I think the community would benefit from knowing the full details. If there is a connection in these cases-even dating back over a century-I think we need to bring it out into the open."

Gregory eyed him coldly. "Are you saying you're going to the press?"

"I think that might be wise. If anyone knows anything, they can come forward."

Gregory held his gaze. "I wish you wouldn't, Deputy. Think of what it would do to this school."

"Yes," Perry said. "I am thinking about that."

"Your father had given some of his data to state police investigators," Gregory told him. "They asked me about it. I told them the little I told you. And they agreed it was best not to dredge all this up. I would hate for you to reprimanded for going over their heads in this investigation."

"Don't worry about me, Dean," Perry said. He gave him a terse smile. "Thanks for your time."

He could feel Gregory's eyes on him as he turned around and walked out the door.

Outside, the sun was doing its best to warm up a chilly day. Most of the leaves were now off the trees. The campus was blanketed in orange and gold.

Perry was heading back to his car when he heard someone call his name. He turned. An attractive woman, mid-forties. "Deputy Holland?"

"Yes," he said. He didn't recognize her.

The woman approached him and extended her hand. "Dr. Virginia Marshall. I just wanted to give you my condolences. I recognized you from the funeral."

He shook her hand. "You were there?"

"Yes. I was very fond of your father. A good man. He was very good to me when I first came here to Lebanon."

Perry smiled. "Yes, I remember you now. You wrote that book-"

Dr, Marshall sighed. "Yes. That book That book. The one that stirred up all that controversy."

"I remember." An idea came into Perry's mind. "What was the name of the reporter who wrote that piece?"

"You mean sensationalized it?"

"Yeah," Perry agreed. "What was her name?"

"Gayle Honeycutt."

"Right." Perry made a mental note.

Dr. Marshall looked intently at him. "Deputy, I know how hard your father was working to find the truth behind the disappearance of those missing girls. And now his death..." The professor s.h.i.+vered. "Something very strange is going on, and I hope you will keep alive his pa.s.sion to find out what it is."

"You have my word on that, Dr. Marshall."

"I'm glad to hear it." She smiled. "My condolences again."

"Thank you."

Perry watched her walk away. Then he slid in behind the steering wheel of his car and drove off campus. Once through the front gates, he picked up his cell and dialed 411.

"Lebanon, New York," he said to the operator. "The number for Gayle Honeycutt."

45.

Not surprisingly, Sue couldn't sleep that night.

Malika was still angry with her, and was spending the night in Sandy's room. Sue didn't blame her for being angry.

What's happening to me? she kept thinking, tossing and turning in her bed. she kept thinking, tossing and turning in her bed. Why did I say those things to Malika? Why did I say those things to Malika?

And what did that girl mean, that my mother is alive?

Billy had found her slumped by the car. Tenderly, he'd helped her inside. He'd explained that Bernadette was indeed a little touched in the head. She'd imagined the Virgin Mary had spoken to her. He'd encouraged Sue not to put any stock in what she had to say.

That still didn't explain why Sue had blacked out when the girl had touched her hand.

So much was unexplainable.

The face at the window.

The terrible headache.

The near certainty Sue felt that she was responsible for so much that had happened here.

And the most terrifying of all-the split personality that seemed to overtake her at times...

What is happening? she thought again, staring at the ceiling. she thought again, staring at the ceiling.

She had tried calling her grandparents earlier that night. She'd gotten their answering machine, and hadn't left a message.

What would I ask them anyway? Have you been lying to me all these years? Is my mother alive?

At least she could be grateful that she and Billy seemed back on track. He'd been so sweet, so caring, when he'd found her crying by the side of the car. He'd stroked her hair, told her that she meant the world to him...

Even though he'd been up to see Heidi, and had stroked her hair, too.

He hadn't told her that. Sue just knew knew. She could see it all very clearly, just the way it had happened. Mike had seemed to respond to Billy's presence, possibly even offering a small smile. At least Billy had thought so anyway. Encouraged, he'd gone down the hall to see Heidi. Her parents were only too glad to let him in. "Anything that might awaken her," Heidi's father had said. Billy had stood over the girl, stroked her hair, told her he wanted her to get well. He never told any of this to Sue. But she knew it all as a fact.

Lying there, thinking about it, seeing Billy touch Heidi's hair, she did her best to control her jealousy. Her jealousy scared her.

So much scared her now.

Especially Joyce Davenport's one-line e-mail back to her.

Dearest Sue, we will speak very soon. And then everything will make sense to you.

What did she mean?

What did Joyce Davenport know about her? About everything that was happening here?

She wasn't aware that she was falling asleep, that sheer exhaustion was overtaking her nerves and her fear. She thought she was wide awake, in fact, and walking down the hallway on the third floor, heading to Room 323, where voices were calling to her through the door.

Sue, come join us...We're having a party...

The hallway was cold, far colder than it ever was, and Sue could see her own breath in front of her. Across from Room 323, she saw that the door to Joelle and Tish's room was open, and they were inside, smiling, smoking some pot. They waved at her. "Go on," Joelle told her. "The door's open. We've been inside Room 323 and we had a blast blast."

But Sue didn't want to go inside. She wanted to run. She started to cry.

They're just using you...

Bernadette's voice.

Sue stifled a sob as she reached the door. Despite wanting to run, she reached out for the k.n.o.b, which was hot to the touch.

Bearing the pain, she turned the k.n.o.b, and pushed the door open.

And looked into her mother's face.

She screamed and sat up in bed.

Tish Lewis sat there, staring at her.

"No!" Sue screamed again.

"Be quiet!" Tish demanded. "If they hear you, we're both dead."

Sue concentrated on the filthy, blood-caked girl sitting in front of her.

"Everyone's been looking for you," Sue said, remarkably calm.

Tish seemed frantic. "You're the only one I can trust. The only one I know for sure isn't in on this."

"In on what, Tish?" Sue asked, recoiling just a bit from the rank odor that permeated the girl's ragged clothes.

"They're a cult," Tish said. "Some kind of blood-drinking cult. Like vampires."

Sue gave her a small smile-a smile that felt strange even as she felt her lips making it. "Now, that sounds quite outrageous, Tish."

"I know. But it's true! You must believe me, Sue. You came to our room because you had seen the face at the window of that room. You were frightened, so you can't be part of them. Who knows who else is involved? Maybe everyone! Joelle called me-she went into that room, she said they were all part of it-"

Sue managed to stand. Tish followed her.

"Joelle went into Room 323?" Sue asked. "What did she see?"

"She saw enough that they killed her! They drank her blood!"

"Really now?" Sue asked.

"You've got to believe me. They were going to kill me, too. They kept me locked in a room in the bas.e.m.e.nt of the dean's house. I managed to break out-I killed Oostie-Mrs. Oosterhouse-she was part of it, too!"

"Oostie? Harmless little Oostie?"

"They weren't going to drink my blood, though," Tish said, her eyes moving around the room crazily. "The fact that I wasn't a virgin saved me! I knew getting laid was a good thing!" She laughed wildly. "But I got out! And we'll get them! We'll get them all!"

"How did you ever get in here?" Sue asked, backing up toward her desk.

"I snuck out of the dean's house and hid in the bushes all day. Then I saw Malika. She was sitting on a bench and her purse was open. When she got up to talk to someone I snuck over and took her key."

Sue smiled, another strange sensation as it crossed her face. "Is that why Malika didn't come to the room tonight? And here I thought she was angry with me."

"I hid in the dorm bas.e.m.e.nt and waited until it was really dark before slipping up here." She approached Sue with eyes filled with insanity. "You don't know who's working with them! I couldn't afford to take any chances."

"Of course not," Sue said.

She turned, picking up the phone on her desk.

"Who are you calling?" Tish asked in terror.

"Don't worry, Tish. I know exactly who can help us."

"You do? Who?"

Sue was silent. She waited for someone to pick up on the other line. When she heard "h.e.l.lo," she said, "h.e.l.lo, this is Sue Barlow. Could you come right away?" Then she hung up the phone.