CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JC stared at the half-empty beer bottle in his hand. Van Tassel House lay quiet at 9:00 that morning. Sheriff Grund promised to keep word of Chris�s death a secret for the time being. Traci closed the curtains. �Hon, I realize you�re terribly upset, but drinking yourself to sleep won�t help. We all feel horrible for your loss.�
Rubbing his red, puffy eyes, he took another sip. �Why not? The other guys managed to drift off. I just can�t stay awake, or I�ll think about�Chris.�
Traci placed her hands on her hips. �They ain�t sleeping none. Justin�s slamming and kicking things, Joey�s trying to convince himself that this is all a bad dream, and Lance is weeping.�
�You can hear all that through doors?�
�I�m a housekeeper and president of Busy Bodies Anonymous. It�s my job to know what�s going on.�
JC folded his arms on the dining room table and buried his head. �I can�t believe-he�s�he�s�� At the sound of muffled crying, Traci rubbed his shoulders. �There now. Don�t be so sad.�
�What�ll happen to us?� JC blurted, �We aren�t Nsync without him!�
�You know,� she replied soothingly, �Chris can be brought back to life if the Headless Horseman is responsible for his murder.�
�Have you lost your mind?�
�Of course not. Every Sleepy Hollow citizen is familiar with the legend. If you defeat the Headless Horseman within 3 days, then Chris�s life will be restored. Look at it as if Chris�s been put in a deep sleep, unless your 3 days are up. Then death is for keeps.�
�So that explains why the Mayor swore us all to secrecy.�
�Wouldn�t it be odd to tell the public a celebrity is murdered, only to have him spotted sipping a coke at McDonalds a week later?�
�Yeah.� Renewed hope filled JC. �How do you defeat the Headless Horseman?�
�According to legend, find his head and destroy it.�
�That�s nice. Where do I find his head?�
�Hon, if we knew its whereabouts, many present day murders would be nonexistent.�
His hopes quickly sank. �Then the odds are against us?�
�Unfortunately. Hey, there�s always a chance.�
JC sniffed, his eyes brimming with renewed tears. �But that chance is too slim.�
***
The stalker crouched patiently at the front door, waiting in silence. Although mid-morning, clouds had darkened and the first of many raindrops pelted his skin.
Ah, so it�s going to storm on the last night of JC and Kate�s young lives. Wonderful grand finale!
Traci had closed the curtains, shut the windows, and locked the doors in a subtle attempt to mourn. The family would not be disturbed.
Leave them alone! A tiny voice pleaded inside his head. You can�t kill them! You can�t!
�Shut up,� he whispered fiercely. For quite some time now, he�d battled with this strange, unwanted visitor inside his head. He argued with it on a continuous basis. Sometimes the voice won. Sometimes he decided to act friendly. Then there were times when he won, and the voice would be silenced.
Lately, it grew weaker and weaker. This pleased the stalker. He hated being bossed around. �I deserve justice. You deserve justice too, so quit whining.�
Murder�s not the answer! What�s done is done. We should forgive her. And JC�
�Be quiet! Kate murdered you, drove you to your death! I�m doing us both a favor.�
***
They stood tensely, their eyes never leaving each other�s angry faces. Lance hugged his Mickey Mouse doll to his chest. �I wish mom and dad would stop fighting.�
He dared not whisper loudly, for they�d see him hiding between the stair rails. His younger sister, Kate, was sleeping in the room adjacent to his. Kate�s bunny slippers pitter-pattered down the hall, crouching beside him.
�What�s wrong, big bwotha?� Kate sucked her thumb. Lance gently pulled her hand from her mouth. �Mommy told you to stop. Don�t worry. They�re just fighting. Go back to bed.�
�O-tay.� Kate returned to her room, almost slamming the door. Lance flinched. Did anyone hear that?
The heated argument below intensified. Mrs. Van Tassel ran her fingers frustratedly through her blond hair. �Well, at least I�m not hopelessly greedy and sleazy enough to take bribes and steal money from charitable foundations!�
Mayor Van Tassel slapped her. �SHUT UP! SHUT UP!� Whimpering, his wife grabbed the phone. The Mayor grabbed her wrist, twisting it till the phone clattered to the floor. �Ah!� She screamed desperately, �You�re hurting me!�
Lance clutched the railing. �Mommy�� Mr. Van Tassel jerked her to him. �Now Rose, you mustn�t tell anyone��
�WHAT YOU AND SIMON GRUND HAVE BEEN DOING?!� Tears spilled down her pale cheeks. Quite in contrast, the Mayor�s face was bright red. Rose bent over for the phone. The Mayor�s eyes darted to the baseball bat Lance had left in the corner. He picked it up.
Lance�s breathing quickened with fear. �No. No daddy. Don�t!� But nobody heard his begging.
Rose glanced upward just in time to see the Mayor raise the bat over her head. �No, No, No, No please,� she babbled.
WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK! WHACK!
�MMOOMMM!� Lance bolted upward from his desk. He�d cried himself to sleep, but the powerful nightmare awakened him.
Or was it a nightmare? Perhaps�(Lance felt horrified by the thought)�perhaps it was a flashback or a memory? What really happened to his biological mother?
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Traci answered the unexpected knocking at the door. �Oh, hello Brad,� she greeted, �I�m sorry, but Kate won�t see you or anyone else.� Brad stepped inside. �Relax. Dad told me all about it, so I understand.�
�Simon�s home?� �Mmm-hmm.� Brad huffed under his breath. He never liked mentioning his stepfather, Simon Grund. He never changed his last name, and he had no intention of telling Nsync.
Suddenly, the lights flickered and went out. Traci sighed. �Great. Help me dig out the candles.�
***
Lance meandered into Mayor Van Tassel�s study. He watched his�um�relative (it was still too difficult to refer to him as �dad�) read a book by candlelight. Lance cleared his throat. �Hey.�
The Mayor switched his attention from the book to the visitor. �Good morning, son. How are you holding up?�
�Kate told me about my adoption.� The Mayor stood. �Yes. How do you feel about that?�
Lance didn�t hesitate to ask the question. �What happened to mom?�
�Your mother?�
�Yes.�
�Simple. She walked out on us, kiddo. She left you, your sister, and me. Haven�t seen her since.�
�That�s a lie,� Lance accused, �I just got some of my memories back. I saw you,� his voice wavered, �Beat her to death with my baseball bat after she discovered you were embezzling money.� Even Lance found himself surprised at the bluntness he usually never used. The Mayor�s fists tightened.
�How can you accuse your father of murder?� He spouted, obviously enraged. �My word�s not good enough for you? What proof do you need?�
Lance�s knees started wobbling. He recognized the maniacal gleam in his father�s eyes. �Please, tell me. I have a right to piece these memories together. All I�ve got are fragments.�
The study door at the top of the stairs slammed. The Mayor locked it with his key. �Lance, Lance,� he said softly, clucking his tongue, �You never knew when to shut your mouth. Yes, my son, I did kill your mother. I hadn�t meant to, but she made me so upset, and the bat was in my hands�things simply turned out that way.�
Appalled, Lance�s mouth dropped open. �How can you say things like that? You murdered my mother! What happened afterwards?�
�I buried her body, her clothes, and the rest of her belongings in the forest. It�s an unmarked grave. Then I concocted the story about a quiet divorce.�
Fury seethed through Lance. �Did you murder your second wife? Annie and Cory�s mother?�
The Mayor shrugged. �She stuck her nose into my business. It couldn�t be helped.� The Mayor relit two of the candles. Lance stared at his father�s malevolent shadow moving along the wall. It seemed larger, more menacing, as if revealing the �Mr. Hyde� of his Dr. Jekyl personality.
The Mayor whipped around, holding a knife. �Don�t worry about burdening such an ugly truth on your handsome young shoulders. I�ve got other plans for you.�
Terrified, Lance scrambled backwards, tripping over the first step and leaning against a bookcase. As if in slow motion, the Mayor started towards him, knife poised.
�It�s a shame, when a father must condemn his only son. Please understand that I do this out of love. I can�t allow you to go to the authorities with the knowledge you�ve been given.� He paused.
�I remember instantly after your mother�s beaten body lay lifeless, you came screaming and crying, running down those stairs. You were only eight years old, so little. I threw you outside for the night as punishment for snooping around. You had a nice, convenient run-in with the Headless Horseman. You ran home, begging me never to do that again. In effect, I scared you into silence.�
All those dreams I�ve been having at night. My sleepwalking. It all makes sense.
But that didn�t matter. Lance, at 22, 14 years later, was signing an invisible oath of silence, and the Mayor would seal it with Lance�s own blood.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Traci rapped softly on Annie and Cory's bedroom door. "Girls, girls, it's Traci. I've brought some candles for you." Lightening flashed outside, followed by booming thunder. The twins were probably cowering under the bed. "Dears, don't be frightened of the storm. Let me in."
Using her key, Traci entered to witness a shocking scene. Annie and Cory sat on the floor, their arms tied over their heads to the bedposts. Wire cut into their delicate skin. Someone taped their mouths and eyes shut.
Traci's hand flew up in horror. Oh my gosh! Someone's inside the house!
Footsteps thumped behind her. Frozen with fear, Traci dared not move, but stare at the large shadow next to hers on the opposite wall.
"Don't scream," he whispered in her ear. Traci choked. She had no time to protest or fight, but did feel the muzzle of a gun pressing into her back. Before breaking in, the stalker placed a silencer on the weapon.
Ssssnnaapp.
Traci crumbled to the floor. Annie whimpered. Cory made a gagging sound.
He shut the door, then moved to Kate's room. "Look out, my pretty one," he said in a sing-song voice, "The boogeyman is here."
***
JC watched the flames of the kerosene lanterns flicker and dance. Though the dining room curtains remained closed, lightening could still be scene in quick flashes. This sort of haunted scene might have frightened JC, except his depression and the beer made him lethargic. Nothing seemed peculiar. He'd seen Lance slip across the living room into the study, heard a couple of doors shut, a few loud thumps upstairs, and quiet male laughter, but that was all.
"JC..."
Startled, JC snapped to attention. "Who's there?" Nobody stood in the kitchen or the living room, yet he remained sure the eerie whisper wasn't alcohol-induced.
"JC...Can you find me?"
A creak to his left. A small noise to his right. The curtains ruffled. JC clutched the chair as he slowly maneuvered around.
"JC...am I to your left?"
JC whipped his head in that direction. Sweat trickled down his brow. He felt vulnerable to the unseen, vicious presence.
"Or maybe I'm to the right..."
JC chewed his bottom lip nervously. Chills traveled up his spine. A loud scrape made him jump.
"I'm gonna get you...yes I am...I'm gonna get you..."
Kate suddenly flew out from behind the kitchen island, landing on her knees. Tears spilled across her face. "He-he's-he'll kill us," she sobbed. A black gloved hand her throat, and another pointed a gun to her head. He forced her to stand upright. The figure was 6 ft tall, very muscular.
JC couldn't stop trembling. "B-Brad! Joey! Justin!"
"Quiet!" the intruder barked. "Brad cannot save you now. Look. Look under the dining room table." Afraid, JC crouched down. A blood-soaked sheet covered the top-half of the body, but JC recognized the shoes. "Oh no," he groaned.
Kate squeaked, but the stalker tightened his grip around her slender throat. He faced JC. "Wouldn't you like to get a better glimpse of your Bringer of Death?"
He pulled a flashlight out of his pocket, shining it onto his face. JC nearly fell backwards.
"YYOOOUUU!!!!!"