Don't close your eyes, He's reaching for you…

The night. The mist. The music. The dancing candlelight. Paige's chest tightened. Each breath was an effort. She'd been worried about what her mother would think of her sneaking around at night. Her mother was a spirit now. They said this place was haunted but it couldn't be her mother's spirit inside. Meagan Meredith wouldn't scare her little girl this much, even if she were angry with Paige for sneaking out. Could it be Ariel? Could a furious Ariel Saunders be laying claim to her house invaded by two kids? The scene began to swirl and Paige shut her eyes tight, trying to stop the spinning. If she fainted she couldn't get away from this awful place.

"I'm gonna look in the window."

Paige's eyes snapped open. "No!" she rasped.

"I have to, Paige. The killer's inside."

"Don't be crazy!" Paige said frantically, but Jimmy looked determined. She forced down her fear. This was getting serious and even if her adored Jimmy wanted to live in a fantasy world, she didn't and she wouldn't let him, either.

"Jimmy, no!" she said firmly. "You could get killed-"

The music shot a notch higher. The shadows around the house shifted and ebbed in the candle flames, seeming to dance along with the heart-thumping music. The night was chilly but sweat trickled down Paige's sides and dampened the nape of her neck. "Jimmy, I'm going. You're going too if I have to drag you-"

The front door flew open, slamming into the side of the house so hard Paige thought she heard wood splintering. The music soared. A hulking shape appeared in silhouette against the candlelight. Paige stopped breathing as a scream rose in her throat. The shape dipped and drifted toward them, snickering, muttering, "Don't close your eyes… He's reaching for you…"

Closer.

Closer…

A shadow fell over them. Paige and Jimmy screamed simultaneously. Paige's bladder let go as they leaped from behind the bushes and ran blindly from the terrible throbbing house, ran heedless of grasping vines and wet grass and animal holes, ran until they felt as if their hearts would burst.

And somewhere in the distance an owl hooted…

Music. Mist. A hulking, dancing figure swooping down on them!

Paige screamed and jerked upward. Her father caught her in his big, hard arms. "Just a nightmare, honey."

Paige took a deep breath and blinked several times. Yes, here she was in her twin bed with the pretty peach-and-green puffy quilt, her lacy curtains, her stuffed animal collection, her black-and-white cat Ripley lying by her side studying her with calm, green eyes.

"I came in because you were whimpering in your sleep. What were you dreaming?" Nick Meredith asked.

"It was all mixed up," Paige lied. "But it was scary. Something about Mrs. Hunt's murder." Paige hated lying to her father. "I dreamed about the person who killed that poor woman. So awful!" she added, imitating Mrs. Collins's voice when she'd spent the afternoon calling her friends to tell them about the murder.

"I see," Nick said slowly. "In your dream did you see that person?"

"No. Just somebody big and mean." Who likes candlelight and loud rock music, she thought with a shudder. "Did you catch him yet, Daddy?"

"No, but I will." Nick smiled and kissed Paige on the forehead. "You get ready for school, kid."

"Daddy, it's summer." Boy, he was tired, Paige thought. "Jimmy and I might hang out."

"Doesn't he know any guys?" Nick asked querulously.

"Yeah, but they swim all day. Or play baseball. Jimmy is more intellectual."

Her father's lips twitched. "Intellectual, huh? I never thought of Jimmy Jenkins as intellectual."

"Oh, but he is, Daddy. He's really smart."

"I'd still like to see you play with Barbie dolls for a change."

"I hate Barbie dolls!"

"Don't the other girls play with them?"

"I guess, but I don't have any friends that are girls."

"Make some."

Mrs. Collins hovered in the doorway. "I know some lovely young girls I could introduce her to."

Wonderful, Paige thought. If Mrs. Collins liked them, they'd probably be a dull as she was. They'd want to have tea parties rather than solve murders.

"Hey, Dad," Paige said quickly to change the subject, "Jimmy said out where Mrs. Hunt got killed yesterday there was a woman with black hair."

"Yes." Nick stood up, straightening his tie. "Natalie St. John. Her father is Andrew St. John who took out your tonsils in February."

"Pretty?"

"Andrew St. John? Not especially."

"Daddy! I mean his daughter. Is she pretty?"

"I guess. I really didn't notice."

Too casual, Paige observed. He'd noticed and he thought she was pretty. She didn't like thinking of him with any woman except her mother, but she didn't want him to be lonely, either. And she could tell he was really lonely in spite of her efforts to entertain him. "Jimmy said she probably took that lost dog home with her."

"She did. She's a veterinarian."

Paige's interest soared. "She likes animals!"

"Just like another young lady I know." He looked at the shining black-and-white cat. "I think Ripley is getting fat."

"Daddy, you'll hurt his feelings!"

"He looks devastated."

"If you think he's too fat, maybe he should go see Natalie St. John."

"She's not in practice here. Besides, there is nothing wrong with the cat except a few extra pounds."

"And he does have that annoying habit of jumping off the newel post on the stairs," Mrs. Collins put in. "He startles the life out of me when he comes springing out of nowhere."

"See, Daddy, that proves he's not too fat or he couldn't jump so well. But he does scratch his ears a lot." Paige assumed a distressed look. "I'm worried."

"You're curious, Paige Meredith," Nick laughed. "For some reason you want to get a look at Natalie St. John." He shrugged. "If I see her, I'll ask her about checking out Ripley. She'll probably say no."

"Not if she's nice she won't," Paige muttered to Ripley when her father left the room. She lovingly touched the small black spot on the end of his pink nose. "That's how we'll know if she might be the right girl for Daddy."

After Nick went to headquarters and Mrs. Collins drifted back downstairs to her knitting and her morning talk shows, the phone rang. Paige grabbed up her extension before Mrs. Collins could rouse herself from the couch. It was Jimmy. "Get in trouble?" he asked abruptly.

"No."

"Told you. Did you tell your dad what we saw at the Saunders house?"

"Are you kidding? First I'd get grounded for life because of sneaking out and going to that place. Then he'd lock me up for being crazy. He'd never believe what we saw last night. No grownup would."

"That's why I've got another plan."

Paige groaned inwardly. Jimmy and his plans. "What now?"

"We go back-"

"Go back! Are you completely nuts?"

"Let me finish. We go back with a camera! A Polaroid so we don't have to wait for the film to be developed. We take a picture of that thing in the house. Then we show your dad."

"A picture?"

"It's the only way to get proof."

Paige thought, gnawing her lower lip. "Well, it would be proof, but I don't know about going back there…"

"Look, I know you're scared because you're a girl-"

"I'm not scared because I'm a girl! I'm not scared at all!"

"Okay, okay, don't wet your pants." Paige caught her breath. Had he seen her wet jeans last night after all? No. It was just an expression. "So you're not scared," Jimmy went on. "Fine. You just don't want to get caught, so I'll take my dad's camera and say I was there all by myself. I won't even mention you. That way you can be in on the action without getting in trouble."