You've Been Warned

“Yeah, you got it right. Mrs. Turnbull wanted to see if I could dig up any dirt on her, I guess for the divorce. I kind of felt sorry for her, though. Kristin’s her name. She was young, in way over her head. I even tried scaring the shit out of her, hoping she’d back off the relationship with the husband, who’s a real scumbag.”

“Instead, here she is with a gun,” says the cop. “She had to be in on it with the husband, right?”

“I’m not so sure,” says the Ponytail. “I lost her at first when she entered the hotel, but the way she ran here, I think maybe she was trying to stop this from happening.”

The cop sighs. “Damn shame either way. There’s two little kids now with no mommy and daddy.”

“Or even a nanny. I could tell the kids liked her a lot.”

“That would explain it,” the cop says with a nod and a shrug.

“What’s that?”

“We sent a patrol car over to their school to get them, and the daughter was missing. Seven years old. I got word a minute ago, though, that they found her.”

“Alive?”

“Oh, yeah. She’s fine. In a manner of speaking.”

“Where was she?”

“Home. The little girl said she ditched school because she was worried about the nanny. She wanted to be with her.”

“Her name’s Dakota. Did she know something?”

“She claims she didn’t. Just had a bad feeling. Of course, when she arrived home, no one was there. They were all here.”

As the two of them walk away, all I can think about is Dakota and Sean. I need to be with them. Someone does. Little Sean’s going to have so many questions.

I scream out again to no avail. Why can’t anyone hear me? I continue to scream, just like in the dream.

Am I already dead? I wonder.

But I can see. I can hear.

What the hell’s going on?

“Exactly,” comes a voice that I recognize.

Chapter 108

I SEE HIS WARPED reflection in the exit sign, and it makes me shudder. He’s standing in the doorway right next to me. Looking like the creep of all creeps.

Frank Delmonico.

He steps into the hallway. Behind him, in the room he came out of, is nothing but darkness.

And the music from my dream.

It’s the same room! The one I was banging on the door of yesterday.

But nobody answered.

The music engulfs me now, it’s so intense. And for the first time since the song took root in my head like a horrible weed, there’s something more.

Words.And the seasons they go round and round,

And the painted ponies go up and down.

We’re captive on the carousel of time.

Delmonico stands directly over me, wearing the same gray suit. Cops walk by, but they don’t seem to notice him.

“Hello, Kristin,” he says. “I know, I know, you’re innocent. You didn’t do anything to deserve this.”

“This is impossible,” I blurt out. “You’re dead.”

“So they say. I’ve been sent to look after you anyway. To talk to you. Kind of an interview. What do they call them in the business world—exit interviews?” He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes.

I hear the music continue.And go round and round and round,

In the circle game.

Delmonico lights up. He winks at me before blowing out the match. Except there is no match, just the flame. How did he do that?

I squeeze my eyes shut. It’s all a dream, I tell myself. It has to be.

“No,” says Delmonico. “It was never a dream, Kristin.”

“Then there’s been a mistake. I’m not like you. You killed people.”

“You killed too. Don’t you remember?”

“That was different.”

“You’re right. That’s the thing about life; it’s not always so black and white.” He takes a long drag off his cigarette.

I feel something on my leg. It’s moving up my thigh, across my stomach.

“Get it off of me!”

Whatever it is, it climbs up my neck, onto my face. It crawls right past my mouth, over my eyes. Now I can see it! I’m screaming, terrified. It’s the biggest cockroach ever.

Delmonico raises his foot high. The heel of his shoe comes crashing down next to my head.

Crunch!

“As I said, Kristin, this is an interview.”

“An interview for what?” I ask.

“Well, to see where you fit in. You say you’re innocent, and yet you had that terrible affair with a married man. You’ve been self-centered for most of your life. And then there’s your poor little baby boy. Dead. Your fault. Yours and Matthew’s. Right here at the Fálcon. How could you?”

I stare at him, horrified that he knows everything. “What is this place, anyway?”

He sighs. “It’s where I died, for one thing, so that gets me a little sentimental, y’know. It’s a portal, Kristin, a gateway. To you-know-where. There are several of them in this big, bad city of New York. But listen to me rattle on. I’m doing all the talking here—and this is your day, Kristin.”

Chapter 109