Book of Horrors (Nightmare Hall) Read Online Free PDF Page A

scarlet.
    With envy? Reed wondered. Or anger?
    Link didn’t congratulate her. Instead, he frowned. “I didn’t know she had a son.”
    Reed repressed a grin. Link was so transparent. Last night he’d done her this wonderful favor by telling her about the job opening, and now he was regretting it because McCoy had a good-looking son.
    “Not a lot of people do,” Rain told Link. “But I think, therefore I am.”
    “What?” Clearly, Link had never heard of the philosopher Descartes.
    Reed didn’t laugh. It would have been too insulting to Link.
    Link put a proprietary arm around Reed’s shoulders. “Your mother isn’t going to work Reed too hard, is she?”
    Any second now, Reed thought dryly, he’s going to grab me by my hair and drag me off to his cave.
    “No. I don’t think so.”
    “Good. Can’t have my girl getting overworked. She has to save some energy for me.” Then he added something that Reed wasn’t prepared for. “So,” he said to Rain, “you have any idea where Carl might be? Carl Nordstrum, your mother’s ex-assistant? No one’s seen him. Anywhere.”
    “He left without giving notice,” Reed said quickly. She smiled at Rain and added conspiratorially, “Good help is so hard to find these days.”
    “There are rumors,” Link persisted.
    Reed’s smile widened. The woman was famous and she lived in a secluded house in a grove of pine trees, and when she went to town, she took her black mynah with her. Of course there were rumors. But to humor Link, she said, “What kind of rumors?”
    “I think we should table this discussion,” he said, his eyes on Rain, “until later. Come to Vinnie’s with us. We’ll talk about it there.”
    “No, that’s okay,” Rain said quickly. “I’ve heard all the rumors. You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. Like, my mother can’t keep help because she’s nuts. Like, people quit because she throws screaming tantrums. And then there’s the one that says our house is haunted. Strange noises, rattling chains, the whole bit. That’s my favorite. It’s hers, too.”
    “Your mother knows about the stories?” Reed asked him.
    He nodded. “Sure. We joke about them. People have been telling stories about my mother since her first book came out. I was six years old, and the kids at school started teasing me about her. Some parents would tell their kids she had to be crazy to write the kind of books she writes. So there were stories.
    “After a while, I got used to it. Then she became rich and famous and the stories eased up a little. But they’re still around. Now, we just laugh about it.”
    There was an edge to Link’s voice as he said, “So you don’t think there’s anything weird about Carl Nordstrum suddenly not showing up in class or at his dorm?”
    A light flurry of snowflakes had begun to fall. “I don’t know anything about Carl Nordstrum,” Rain said. “Once my mother’s assistants leave, I don’t keep up with where they go next. None of my business.” To Reed, he said, “Listen, I’ve got to get going. Thanks for taking the job. You’re not starting until Monday, right?”
    Reed nodded. She had asked for weekends off. McCoy had frowned and said, “But I work weekends!” Reed had stood her ground. Weekends were for finishing up essays and other assignments, for doing laundry and running errands in town to pick up toothpaste or pantyhose or looseleaf, and in the evenings, for movies, parties, dances. Weekends were playtime. She wasn’t willing to give that up, not even for Victoria McCoy.
    And since tomorrow was Friday, there hadn’t seemed much point in working just the one day, so they’d agreed on Monday as a good starting point.
    “See you then,” Rain said, and waving a casual good-bye, turned in the direction of the communications building.
    Reed watched him stride away, shoulders slightly hunched, long legs rapidly covering the ground feathered with fresh snowflakes. She was about to turn away