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Authors: R.L. Stine

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BOOK: The New Year's Party
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Scared?

Me?

Just because someone murdered Marc and maybe P.J.? Two people who came to my party. And who played the same game I always play with my friends.

Why should I be scared?

Another shiver swept through Reenie's body. She marched into the kitchen. No problem. Nothing to worry about.

The floor was still wet, and very slippery. Stainless-steel tables and counters surrounded her. The kitchen fan's big metal hood towered above her. For a moment she felt lost.

Where is it?

Where is the door to the back?

Then she spotted it. To her left. She turned. Lost her footing on the slick floor. And fell. Landing hard on the ceramic tiles.

Reenie shook her head. Boy, wasn't that graceful? Glad no one saw me. She shoved herself to her feet—and screamed.

“Not again. Oh, please! Not again.”

Chapter 27

LIKE GARBAGE

L
et this be a joke, Reenie prayed. Let this be the sickest joke one of us has ever played.

A pair of legs stuck out of a metal garbage can.

Long legs in black tights.

She inched closer to the garbage can and peered inside.

Sandi! Shoved facedown in the hamburger buns, lettuce scraps, and stale french fries. Mayonnaise dripped down one of her black legs.

Reenie screamed again. Screamed until her throat felt raw.

Feet pounded toward her. Sean and Ty burst through the door.

“What's wrong?” Sean demanded. “We were out back. The lid on the garbage bin—”

“Sandi!” Reenie choked out. “She's … she's …” Reenie pointed at the garbage can. “It's … it's Sandi.”

Sean and Ty rushed to the garbage can and tipped it onto its side.

Sandi slid onto the tile floor in a pile of soggy lettuce, paper napkins, cardboard hamburger boxes, and half-eaten food.

“Wow!” Ty murmured. “Wow.”

Reenie turned cold all over.

Sandi's eyes stared blankly at the ceiling.

But she lay on her chest. On her chest.

Her head had been twisted around backward.

Just like Marc's.

And her face held the same terrified expression. Her blue eyes wide with horror.

Chapter 28

A SURPRISING INVITATION


T
hree kids we knew were murdered,” Reenie said sadly. “It's almost as if someone was out to get us. Our friends.
Us!”

I “So what did everybody get for Christmas?” Artie asked the others hanging out in Reenie's room.

“Artie,” Greta moaned. “Show a little sensitivity!”

“Hey, I wanted to lighten things up a little,” Artie replied. “I don't know about you guys, but I could use a laugh.”

“I'm sure it has something to do with our game,” Greta stated. “Three people are dead. And they were all involved in one of our practical jokes. What other connection is there between P.J., Marc, and Sandi?”

“I have an idea,” Sean announced. “It came to me while I was putting the new fuel pump on my car—and remembering what happened to Marc while he worked on his.”

Reenie shuddered, trying to block out the image of Marc's mangled body.

“Tell us,” Greta urged.

“I think P.J. is the killer,” Sean stated.

“But … he's dead!” Reenie exclaimed.

“Is he?” Sean asked. “Anyone seen his body?”

“He's been missing for weeks,” Reenie pointed out. “The only thing the police ever found was his jacket—in the woods. He
has
to be dead.”

“No, wait. I understand what Sean means!” Greta said. “P.J. is out there, hiding somewhere—and killing us one by one.”

“P.J.?” Artie shook his head. “Come on. The guy is a wimp. He couldn't kill anybody.”

“Think about it,” Sean urged. “He had a reason to want both Sandi and Marc dead. They played the biggest part in humiliating him.”

“But how did he get into the Burger Basket?” Reenie asked. “The door was locked.”

They exchanged glances. They'd talked about that for hours after it happened. But none of them knew the answer.

“I don't know how he got into the Burger Basket,” Sean admitted. “But someone managed to find a way. Why not P.J.?”

“He's very smart,” Greta reminded them.

“P.J. is really Houdini,” Artie suggested. “Back from the grave and roaming the streets of Shadyside.”

Reenie glared at Artie. “Do you want to be next?” she demanded. “Do you want to end up with your head twisted around? How can you joke about this?”

“Sorry,” Artie mumbled.

Reenie sighed. “I'm sorry, too. I've been going nuts thinking every person I see is the killer. I've even wondered about Ty.”

“Ty?” Greta cried. “No way.”

“But he was in the Burger Basket when it happened. And we hardly ever see him anymore,” Reenie declared.

“No,” Sean protested. “I was with Ty from the time I left you and Sandi out front until we heard you scream.”

“He hasn't been hanging around with us because of Liz,” Greta added. “They're together all the time now. And we know why Liz is avoiding us.”

“I think P.J. is getting his revenge,” Sean told them. “And maybe he's not finished. Maybe he's after all of us.”

“But where is he hiding all this time?” Reenie demanded.

“Maybe Liz is hiding him,” Artie suggested. “He could be right there in his own house!”

“The police must have checked the house,” Reenie pointed out. “It's probably one of the first things they did.”

“Well, I think it's P.J., and I think he's hiding somewhere,” Sean insisted.

“Like in a cabin in the woods!” Artie exclaimed. “There are a bunch of them out by Fear Lake. They're all empty. No one uses them in the winter.”

“What should we do?” Reenie asked. “Go to the police?”

“Why would they listen to us?” Artie demanded.

“Artie's right,” Sean agreed. “All we could tell them is that we
think
P.J.'s the killer, and we
think
he's hiding somewhere. They wouldn't pay any attention to us.”

“So, what do we do?” Reenie asked.

“Maybe we should take turns following Liz,” Greta suggested. “She might lead us to P.J.”

“Let's try to talk to her first,” Sean said. “Liz won't tell us anything that would hurt P.J. But we might be able to find out if she believes he's dead—and if she blames us.”

“Good idea.” Artie jumped up and began pacing around the room. “Because if P.J. is the killer, I'm at the top of his list.”

“Maybe you should talk to her alone, Reenie,” Greta said. “You're the closest to her. And she's not going to say much in front of a group of people.”

Reenie glanced from face to face. They all want me to do it, she realized. “Okay, I'll try. But I'm sure Liz hates me after what happened at my party.”

A light snow began to fall as Reenie pulled up in front of Liz's house on Fear Street. She put the minivan in Park and sat there, reluctant to get out.

She scanned the neighborhood. Snow covered the
roofs of the houses and the lawns, making everything white except the windows. The windows seemed to stare at her like dark eyes.

Reenie shivered. I don't like Fear Street, she thought.

So go talk to Liz. Then you can leave.

Reenie climbed out of the minivan and turned up Liz's front walk. Halfway to the house, a frightening thought occurred to her.

What if P.J. really is the killer? And what if he has been living in the house? What if he's waiting in there right now—waiting for me?

The door swung open.

Reenie jerked her head up.

Liz stepped onto the porch and stood there watching her.

Uh-oh. Too late to worry about that now, Reenie thought. “Hi!” she called as she continued up the walkway.

Liz didn't answer. She continued to stare at Reenie, her expression blank, her arms crossed over her chest.

Reenie stepped up beside Liz.

“What do you want?” Liz asked coldly.

“Well, I wanted to talk to you.” This is going to be hard, Reenie thought. This is going to be so hard.

“What about?”

Reenie met Liz's hard stare. “I want to apologize. We all do. We didn't mean to hurt P.J. We didn't think anything bad—”

“My brother is missing,” Liz interrupted. “He could be dead.”

“I know, and I'm sorry. But we were playing a joke—that's all.”

“Your apology isn't going to change anything. All I can think about is P.J. I keep imagining all the horrible things that could have happened to him. I keep picturing …”

Liz's voice cracked. Reenie could see tears in her eyes.

Reenie reached out to wrap her arm around Liz. Liz jerked away. She turned her back on Reenie as she struggled to control her tears.

Reenie opened her bag and fumbled around for a tissue. She tapped Liz on the arm and handed it to her.

“Thanks,” Liz muttered. She sniffled. Then she straightened up and turned to face Reenie.

Reenie felt tears in her own eyes. She hadn't spent much time thinking about Liz and how she must be feeling. Everything had happened so fast—P.J.'s disappearance, Marc's murder, Sandi's murder.

“I should have talked to you right away,” Reenie admitted. “We were friends, right? I should have been there for you.”

Liz shook her head. “No. I didn't want you around, Reenie,” Liz said softly. “I still don't. Every time I see you, I think about P.J. About what you did to my brother.”

“Can't you give us all another chance?” Reenie pleaded. “Especially now, with this killer on the loose. We all need to stick together.”

Anger flashed in Liz's eyes. “Go away, Reenie. I know you're sorry. But I can't forgive you for what you did to P.J. Not ever.”

“Liz, I—”

Liz pulled open the storm door and dived inside.

The front door slammed in Reenie's face.

“Do you think
I
should talk to Liz?” Greta asked. “Now that she's had a few days to calm down.”

Reenie hesitated.

“She knows I got along with P.J.,” Greta continued. They turned the corner onto Reenie's block.

“You're right,” Reenie agreed. “I remember Liz wishing P.J. would ask you out. But I don't think she wants anything to do with us.”

Greta and Reenie hurried up Reenie's driveway. “My feet are freezing,” Reenie said. “All that slush soaked into my shoes. I want to put on some dry socks right away.”

Reenie unlocked the door. They tossed their coats into the hall. “Mom, I'm home,” Reenie called. “Greta's with me.”

“You got some mail,” her mother answered from the living room. “I put it on your bed. And I made some Christmas cookies if you want some.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Reenie led the way to her room.

“You want a pair of dry socks?” she asked Greta as she pulled open the top drawer of her dresser.

“No. My boots kept my socks dry.” Greta plopped down on Reenie's bed.

Reenie sat next to Greta and slid off her shoes. “I wonder what this is.” She picked up a long gray envelope. “No return address.”

“Open it,” Greta urged. “It doesn't look like junk mail. Too fancy.”

Reenie tore open the envelope and pulled the letter out. She unfolded it and shook her head. “Whoa.”

“What?” Greta demanded.

“I don't believe this. It's from Liz. She's inviting me to a party.”

Reenie read the letter again:

December 29th

Dear Reenie,

I've been thinking about what you said, and we do all need to stick together. I need my friends to get through this horrible time.

So I've decided to have a New Year's Eve party. I know P.J. is gone, and that this has been a hard year for all of us. But let's put this year behind us and celebrate. And hope that next year is a better year for everyone.

BOOK: The New Year's Party
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