Lights! Camera! Explosion! 6 страница
“It’s just a trick, George. A special effect,” Nancy said reassuringly. She quickly filled George in on the events that had just taken place in the attic and on the roof.
“That’s what I get for falling asleep,” said George. “I missed all the excitement!”
Just then a police car screeched into the driveway. Chris cracked his knuckles nervously. “Spider,” Chris said, “don’t you have a wall to jump through or something?”
“You know, a couple of hours ago,” Spider said, “you and I were friends. Don’t be so sure I haven’t changed my mind about you, kid.”
Two uniformed police officers knocked at the door, and Nancy let them in. About twenty minutes later, Sergeant Velez arrived, followed by Sara and Alan Teppington. They both looked tired.
“Who was it?” The sergeant threw the question into the room and waited to see who took the bait.
Chris didn’t stand up, but he said, “I’m the guy.”
Alan Teppington pushed past the sergeant and grabbed a handful of Chris’s shirt, jerking him off the ground.
“You little punk!” Alan shouted.
One of the policemen grabbed Alan’s arm and held him back, but that didn’t turn off his anger.
“Do you know what I’d like to do to you?” Alan shouted, struggling against the uniformed officer.
“What, Dad?“ Chris asked pointedly.
“What did you say?” Alan shouted.
“I said, ‘Hi, Dad.’” Chris meant to spit out the words, but they got caught in his throat on the way out.
“What’s going on?” Sara asked Alan with her eyes. But he just shrugged and said, “See? I told you: movie people are nuts!”
Chris laughed shortly. “Well, I guess you can’t be expected to recognize me, since you’d already left when I was born,” he said. “But you knew I existed—that’s the part that’s so hard to take.”
Alan Teppington’s mouth opened but he didn’t say anything. He just stood there and stared at Chris.
“What’s he talking about?” Sergeant Velez asked Alan. Finally, Velez hovered in front of Chris. “What’s going on? Who are you, kid?”
“I’m his son,” Chris said finally.
Alan Teppington fell backward a step and slumped down onto the couch next to his wife.
“What’s this all about?” asked the sergeant in a stern voice.
“See, officer, the truth is,” Chris said to Velez in a confidential tone, “he doesn’t know for sure. He’s got a picture of me in his attic from just after I was born. He’s never seen me in the flesh.”
Alan Teppington jumped up and pounded on a soft high-backed chair. “How could you do it? You sat in this chair,” Alan said, “and said to me, ‘Hank Steinberg wants this, Hank Steinberg wants that.’ You talked to us all afternoon, and you never said a word.”
“Hey, Dad, you stayed away for twenty years. You never said a word. And I hate you for it.” Chris was almost in tears.
Sara was on her feet. Nancy had seen her strand that way many times in school, defending a student or an idea.
“You have no right to talk to someone you don’t know like that,” Sara said. “Even if he is your father.”
“Yes, he does,” Alan said. “He does have the right.” Then he looked back at his son. “Didn’t your mother get married again?”
“Yeah. She must have forgotten to invite you to the wedding,” Chris said sarcastically. “She married a rich old movie producer. I think she really likes him; who knows why. I can’t stand the man.”
Chris snapped his fingers. “That’s how he called me when he wanted me to do something for him, which was a lot.”
Chris kept snapping his fingers. “After a while, I was convinced he’d forgotten my name. Get the picture? He says that a lot, too. He thinks it’s funny.”
Chris walked to a chest crowded with photos of Kate and Amy.
“You know,” he said, “when Hank asked me to find a spooky old house I thought of River Heights, where my mom had grown up. She was the one who told me about Fenley Place. So I hopped a plane.”
He looked around the room, at the walls and arches of Fenley Place. The house seemed to be listening to Chris’s story, too.
“The house was perfect,” Chris said. “It knocked me out the minute I saw it. Then when I found out that Alan Teppington, my father, lived here, I thought I’d introduce myself to you, to my stepmother, and of course to my two half-sisters. But I couldn’t do it. You kept yelling about how much you hated movie people. I just sat here hoping the ceiling would fall down or something.”
All of a sudden, Chris seemed talked out and tired. He leaned against a chair and looked at his father.
“You know, when your mother and I got divorced,” Alan said, “she was making a lot more money than I was. She didn’t need me, and she didn’t want me around. I was so hurt, I didn’t want anything to do with her. It took me years to realize that you needed me. But by then I couldn’t make the move.” He paused and then added, “I’ll tell you something: I hate myself for it, too.”
“Folks,” Sergeant Velez said to the Teppingtons, “it’s getting late. Do you want me to take him into custody? Are you going to press charges?”
Sara turned to her husband, but he was looking at Chris.
“No,” Alan said. “I won’t press charges. But thanks for your help, Sergeant.”
“Then good night, Mr. Teppington, Mrs. Teppington,” Sergeant Velez said. He and Spider Hutchings walked out together, followed by the uniformed officers. As they were leaving, the sergeant told his people to send the curious crew members back across the street where they belonged.
Sara drove off, as well, to pick up the girls and Boris, who had been dropped at a babysitter’s house. And after Nancy and George left, Alan and Chris went for a long walk.
The next day, Nancy, George, and Bess were walking through the River Heights mall.
“So everything was really just movie magic? No ghosts in Fenley Place?” Bess said, with some disappointment.
“Uh-huh,” Nancy said. “Chris watched how Bo Aronson blew out the windows, then he stole some small explosives and detonators and used them on Fenley Place.”
“The red smoke?” Bess asked.
“Red powder and a remote control detonator,” Nancy said.
“The dead dog?”
“Chris kidnapped Boris and then gave the dog a tranquilizer mixed into some food.”
“The woman in the window? That was real, I’ll bet,” said Bess.
“A white nightgown hanging on monofilament wire,” Nancy said.
“Hey, Nancy,” George said. “Isn’t that Deck Burroughs coming out of that shoe store?”
“Quick, Nancy,” Bess said. “Spill something on him so he’ll talk to us.”
But it wasn’t necessary. Although he was walking quickly so that he wouldn’t be noticed by too many people, Deck Burroughs stopped when he saw Nancy and her friends.
He shook hands with George and Bess, and said, “Nice meeting you, again,” as he shook hands with Nancy.
Then he was gone in a crowd of admirers.
Nancy, Bess, and George walked on. They bought new swim suits in The Cool Pool and even ran into Chris Teppington coming out of Shirts Till It Hurts.
“I can’t believe I ran into you guys,” he said. “Perfect timing. I have a present for each of you.” He held up a large paper bag.
“How’s it going?” George asked.
“You mean with my dad?” Chris said. “It’s a little strange, getting to know him and all. He’s been quiet but that’s okay. He’s turning out to be an all-right guy. And I like Kate and Amy and Sara. They want me to stay awhile after Hank leaves, but I don’t know. Maybe I will.”
“I’m glad,” Nancy said.
“Anyway,” Chris said, “I got you guys something. It’s my way of saying thanks.” He took three Terror Weekend T-shirts out of the paper bag.
“Oh no! Are they selling those at the shirt store?” Bess said. “I wanted to be the only one in River Heights with a Terror Weekend T-shirt.”
“Don’t worry,” Chris said, smiling. “These are exclusives. I just took them to the store to have them, uh, monogrammed.”
As he unfolded the shirts, the girls could see that the back of each one was printed with the question that had pursued them all through this case—Screamer, Bleeder, or Corpse?
Текст подготовлен эксклюзивно для группы ВК