Trick or Treat by Richie Tankersley Cusick Page B

as long as I live.”
    They both started laughing then, harder than ever, and after several moments Wynn finally caught her breath.
    “Oh, well … not that there’s anyone around here to impress, anyway. You just can’t get too excited about guys you’ve known since kindergarten. No mystique.”
    Martha straightened up slowly, holding her aching sides. “I guess I never thought about that — there were always new kids coming and going where I lived.”
    Wynn studied her with a smile that was almost shy. “I’ll bet you had lots of boyfriends, didn’t you?”
    They were walking again, side by side, and Martha looked up at the gray sky, sudden memories making her frown.
    “A couple. God, I was stupid, though.”
    “What do you mean?”
    Martha cast Wynn a sidelong glance, kicking at some crumpled paper on the sidewalk. The wind caught it and it flew crazily through the air, snagging at last at the foot of a fire hydrant.
    “There was this one guy who really liked me. And he was nice, too — and cute — and … well … my dad thought he was wonderful and was thrilled we were going out.”
    Wynn nodded as if she knew what was coming.
    “But I liked this other guy more … he was so cool and so handsome” — Martha gave a guilty laugh — “and he was such a jerk.”
    Wynn stopped and turned so abruptly that Martha ran into her.
    “That’s what people said about Dennis, too.” Her eyes were wide and serious. “That’s just like Dennis and Elizabeth.”
    Startled, Martha watched Wynn walk away, then took a deep breath and hurried after her.
    “Wynn!”
    The girl stopped, shoulders rigid, hands clenched at her sides. As Martha slowed down, Wynn suddenly whirled to face her.
    “They’re wrong, you know. All of them.”
    Martha stared at her, mind racing. “About what?”
    “About Dennis. Oh, he could be a real jerk sometimes, and he was always getting into some kind of trouble — and everyone thinks he killed Elizabeth — but he didn’t . He couldn’t have. He loved her.” Wynn’s face was almost pleading, and Martha reached out for her.
    “I … Conor heard they broke up,” she said. “That Dennis was kind of upset about it.”
    “Yes.” Wynn was nodding, her eyes closed tight, her voice suddenly sad. “Yes, that’s true — they did break up and he wanted her back, but she didn’t want to go back with him. He was jealous, that’s all, just ’cause she was with somebody else and not him — but he never would have done something so awful —”
    “Wait a minute,” Martha interrupted. “After they broke up, she had a new boyfriend?”
    “She went with Blake,” Wynn said quietly. And then, seeing the look on Martha’s face, “He never talks about it. He keeps everything in. And when you came and moved into her house — it really shook everyone up. Not just Blake and me, but … well … everybody.”
    Martha was staring at her, Wynn’s words reaching her as from a long way off. “Wynn … what are you talking about?”
    “She was small like you … and her hair was blonde. Even about the same length.” Wynn’s face was sad and apologetic, and Martha felt herself going cold. “Even the things you and I laugh about — and you’re such a nice person, Martha…. You’re just so much like her. You remind me so much of Elizabeth.”

Chapter 9
     
    That night it started to rain in earnest.
    And Martha dreamed she was Elizabeth Bedford.
    She’d drifted off restlessly, lulled by the dull thudding of rain against the windowpane, yet once sleep took over she lay there with the strangest sensation of wakefulness … as if part of herself were trapped inside her mind while the other part waited in the terror of reality.
    She dreamed she was dying.
    She felt each stab of the knife going through her, and everywhere she turned there were blood-spattered walls — and her killer was real, but she couldn’t see his face because he was wearing a mask….
    Yet she knew him.
    In her absolute