The Third Eye Read Online Free PDF Page A

be here right now.”
    He’s in a car, and it’s coming closer!
She wanted to grab him, to shake him, to force the words upon him, but there was no waythat she could do so. Why should he believe her? Why should
anyone
?
    Mr. Zenner went back to the living room, and Karen followed. There were more people there now than before. A dark-haired woman whose resemblance to Mrs. Zenner was so marked that she had to be a relative was seated on the sofa, weeping softly and clutching a squirming Stephanie. Kevin’s parents had arrived, along with their two daughters.
    The young police officer, looking uncomfortably out of control of things, was standing in the archway between the living room and dining area.
    Karen went over to him. She knew it would do no good, but she had to tell him.
    “Bobby Zenner is in a car,” she said quietly.
    He stared at her. “What are you talking about?”
    “He’s in a car,” Karen repeated. “I don’t know how I know it, but I do. I don’t expect you to believe me.”
    The doorbell chimed.
    “What kind of car?” Officer Wilson asked her.
    “A Honda.” The words left her lips before she realized that she was going to speak them, and they took her by surprise.
    “Is it a car you’ve seen before?” He was regarding her intently. His eyes were the strangest shade of blue she had ever seen, and they were riveted on her face.
    “Yes. Yes, I think—”
    She didn’t think, she
knew
! It was a green Honda with adent in the right front fender. There was a bumper sticker on the back that read HAVE YOU HUGGED A JOCK TODAY? The vinyl on the front seat had a rip in it, and a spring stuck a little way through so that when you sat down you had to be careful that it didn’t snag your clothes.
    The chimes sounded again. Mr. Zenner went to the door and opened it.
    “Yes?” he asked curtly.
    “I’m here to pick up Karen,” said the person who stood outside on the darkened doorstep. “Her parents sent me over for her.”
    Karen glanced up quickly at the familiar voice. In one blinding flash, the answer was upon her. The pieces of the puzzle fell into place.
    “Yes, I do know the car,” she said softly. “The boy who owns it is right there.”

CHAPTER 4
    When Karen arrived home, her parents were watching television. She was greeted in the front entrance hall by the sound of canned laughter rolling out from the den in a senseless roar. The stairway beckoned, and she was tempted to bolt straight up it and run to her room. Then she sighed, accepting the inevitable, and, bracing herself for the tirade of questions that she knew awaited her, went down the hall to the wood-paneled den.
    They were seated, as she had known they would be, in recliners opposite the TV set. The angle of the light from the lamp on the table between them accentuated the difference in their ages, glinting off the youthful highlights in her mother’s blond hair and turning her father’s to silver.
    “They found Bobby,” Karen announced. “He’s okay.”
    “Thank god!” said her father, reaching out with the remote to adjust the volume of the television so they could hear each other. “Where was he?”
    “In the trunk of Tim’s car.”
    “He was where?” exclaimed Mrs. Connors.
    “He was trapped in Tim’s car trunk,” Karen repeated. “Tim changed a tire this morning, and when he put back the jack, he didn’t slam the door down hard enough. Bobby was playing hide-and-seek and climbed into the trunk to hide.”
    “Do you mean Tim was with you at the Zenners’?” her mother asked her.
    “Just for a couple of minutes,” said Karen. “When he started to leave, he noticed the trunk was gaping open, so he slammed it. Of course, he didn’t know anyone was in there, and Bobby was too surprised to call out.”
    “It’s a wonder the boy didn’t suffocate,” her father said.
    “It was close. He was unconscious.”
    “Tim never should have been there,” her mother said. “You know you’re not allowed to