Dance of Death Read online

  "I want to belong to you," Jessica whispered.

  "That's it, Joey!" Elizabeth exclaimed, pointing to a placid dark lake in the distance.

  Joey exited the highway and followed the road to the edge of Secca Lake. The road was blocked off to traffic, and Elizabeth could see the lights of several police cars and ambulances blinking in the distance. The area was swarming with TV news teams and curious onlookers.

  Elizabeth felt faint with terror. "I feel sick," she murmured.

  Joey put an arm around her shoulder. "Hey, Liz, don't worry," he said, trying to calm her down.

  But Elizabeth shrugged his arm off. Another news bulletin had come over the radio, and she wanted to hear it. "Shhh! Listen!" she hissed.

  "Again, we repeat tonight's breaking story. The body of a young woman was found near Secca Lake this evening. The cause of the death was exsanguination—the draining of the blood."

  The blood drained from Elizabeth's face at the thought of it. "The body has still not been identified," continued the broadcast. "But the police believe the case may be linked to the recent murder of Big Mesa High School student Dean Maddingly, whose body was found exactly one week ago at the Dairi Burger. The latest victim is similar in appearance to the first one—a young Caucasian in her late teens with blond hair and blue eyes."

  Elizabeth moaned and leaned her head against the headrest. "What if it's Jessica?" she whispered.

  "Come on, Elizabeth," Joey reassured her. "Of course it's not Jessica. A million girls fit that description. Especially in California."

  "Well, I'm going to find out," Elizabeth said with determination. She pulled open the door and jumped out.

  "Elizabeth!" Joey protested. "You can't get through! The area is blocked off."

  Elizabeth's blue-green eyes glittered as she faced Joey. "Joey, my twin is in trouble. I can feel it," she said.

  Joey nodded. "OK, then, let's go."

  They leaped out of the car and pushed past the DO NOT CROSS police tapes.

  "Hey! Get back here!" a police officer yelled.

  One of the paramedics tried to grab her, but Elizabeth wriggled out of his hold. The reporters and police officers crowding the path caused her panic to grow. Adrenaline was flowing through her body.

  "Joey! This way!" Elizabeth yelled, weaving her way through the line of police cars. But Joey didn't appear, and Elizabeth turned, looking wildly through the crowd. He wasn't anywhere to be seen. Elizabeth shrugged and kept going. "Jessica! Jessica!" she yelled hysterically, running right into the arms of an officer.

  "No, my name is Officer Gordon," he said. "And I think you'd better come with me, young lady."

  Elizabeth backed up and gulped as she looked up into the stern eyes of the police officer.

  Enid was brooding in her car outside Jonathan's house. She kept turning the engine on and off, trying to get herself to go home.

  She knew she didn't stand a chance competing against Jessica, but Enid felt paralyzed—she couldn't stop staring at the house.

  A fire was flickering inside, sending leaping shadows against the windows. Enid imagined what was going on in the house. She envisioned Jonathan pulling Jessica into his arms, and Jessica smiling up at him with her Doublemint Twin smile. Seething with jealousy and frustration, Enid clenched her fingers on her forearm. Suddenly she jerked back in pain, realizing that she had raked her long, sharp fingernails along her bare arm.

  Enid stared at the four even traces carved into her skin. Maybe it's a sign, she thought, a sign that the new Enid is out for blood. Maybe it meant that she should fight to get what she wanted. Enid traced a finger along a tender pink scratch, her eyes narrowing. Maybe she should barge into the house and ruin their evening. Jonathan will take one look at me and realize that I'm the one he truly loves.

  Enid leaned back against the seat and closed her eyes. Was she going crazy? Maybe everybody was right. Maybe she really was losing it. Ever since Jonathan had cast his spell on her, her entire life had fallen to pieces. She wasn't speaking to Elizabeth, and her grades were plummeting. The previous day some annoying, busybody guidance counselor named Mrs. Green had called her mother to issue a "progress warning." Her mother had grounded her indefinitely—until her grades and her attitude picked up.

  Enid shook her head. Nobody understood what she was going through. Nobody understood her love for Jonathan. Her mother said she had turned into a "freak-show queen," and Elizabeth said she was in the grip of an obsession that was spinning out of control. Enid's lips turned down in a scowl. They were both totally condescending. She wasn't going through some kind of juvenile phase. She was experiencing the most important change of her life, finally becoming the person she was always meant to be.

  Enid knew Jonathan would understand her. She sensed it instinctively. A lot of the students at school wondered why Jonathan had come all the way to Sweet Valley from Europe, but Enid knew why. He had come to be with her. She could feel it deep inside. It was as though their souls had been searching for each other for years—and they had found each other at last. His presence at school soothed her. Even if they didn't speak, she felt his presence in the halls, in the cafeteria, in study hall. And when she had come home from school that day, she'd had an eerie sense that he was beckoning to her. She could feel him calling to her across town. The pull was irresistible. She had to go to him.

  Desperate to see him, Enid had slipped past her mother and sneaked out of the house that evening. If her mother caught her now, she'd probably disown her. But that didn't matter. I would risk anything to be with Jonathan, Enid realized with sudden clarity. A tear came to her eye and she brushed it away, slumping her head against the seat. She clenched her hands into fists and choked back a sob. She had taken such care in dressing that evening. And she had gone to so much trouble to get out of the house. But now Jonathan was with Jessica instead of her. Enid was risking her mother's trust for nothing.

  "Enid, go home," she told herself. She turned the engine on again and gave the house one last look. But then she shut the motor off again. It was as if an unseen force were holding her where she was.

  I have to see what's going on in there, she decided finally. I have to see it with my own eyes.

  Wiping her eyes with her fists, she pushed the car door open and stepped out soundlessly. She clicked the door shut, shivering in the cool night air. Her short black dress and sheer black nylons provided little protection from the elements. Wrapping her arms around her body, she stepped gingerly onto the wet lawn. The trees cast spooky shadows on the crumbling brick walls of the mansion, and the cracked windows gaped at her ominously from the second floor. She shuddered with fear as she made her way through the tall weeds surrounding the house.

  Feeling her way along the building, she crept to the long bay window of the living room. She hated herself for what she was doing, but she couldn't help it. She had to find out if Jonathan and Jessica were together.

  Long curtains blocked her view, and the flickering fire sent bursts of light along them. Keeping low, Enid inched to the middle of the window and peered between the curtains. She saw two figures silhouetted by the light of the fire, locked in an embrace. At the sight of their passionate kiss, Enid wanted to die. But she stared, transfixed by the image. Jonathan grabbed a handful of Jessica's hair and crushed her even closer to him. Jessica wrapped her arms tighter around his neck, kissing him wildly the whole time. Then he picked her up in his arms and carried her across the room. The couple disappeared from sight.

  Enid whimpered and gazed at the flickering fire. Then she laid her forehead against the cold glass of the window and closed her eyes in pain. With her palm flat against the brick building, she slowly sank to the ground below the window. Enid crouched on the ground and wrapped her arms around her body. She had never felt more desperate in her entire life.

  Chapter 3

  "I'm in charge of security here," Officer Gordon said to Elizabeth, flashing his badge at her. "You could get a big fine for crossing those police lines, young lady," he said sternly.

  "I know, and I'm sorry. It's just that—" Elizabeth began.

  But Officer Gordon interrupted her. "I don't care what your story is." He held a hand forehead high. "I've had it up to here with excuses. The reporters have to get through—they're holding the presses for this story. The medical staff has to get through—they want to run some tests on the body. The public has to get through—they want to see the murder victim with their own eyes." Officer Gordon shook his head in disgust. "There's been a murder, and all anybody cares about is publicity. A human life has been taken, and everybody's interest is sensationalistic. I have had it." Taking Elizabeth by the shoulders, he steered her back to the police line.

  "Liz!" Joey exclaimed as he caught sight of her. He was standing right in front of the yellow tape, an anxious look on his face. "I thought I'd lost you."

  "I think you'd better keep an eye on her, young man," Officer Gordon told Joey.

  "Don't worry, I'll keep her out of trouble," Joey said, slinging an arm around Elizabeth's shoulders.

  But Elizabeth pushed his arm away. She faced the police officer squarely, her eyes flashing with Wakefield determination. "I'm not going anywhere," she said firmly. "I don't care what other people have told you. I have to see who that girl is."

  The police officer sighed. "And what makes you an exception?" he asked skeptically.

  "Sorry, sir. She's just a little worked up," Joey said apologetically.

  Elizabeth shot him a look. "I am not worked up. You see, Officer, I think I know who the girl is. I think she might be my . . . my sister." Voicing her fears out loud caused tears to spring to her eyes, and Elizabeth blinked them back desperately. She didn't want the police officer to think she was hysterical. And Joey wasn't helping matters.

  The officer looked at her in concern. "Why do you think it's your sister?"

  Elizabeth burst out sobbing. "Because she disappeared tonight, sometime before the murder."

  "What does she look like?" Officer Gordon asked.

  "She looks just like me!" Elizabeth exclaimed, sniffling. "We're twins!" She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and dabbed at her eyes.

  "Do you know how many girls in California fit your general description?" Officer Gordon asked.

  Joey nodded. "That's what I told her."

  Elizabeth gritted her teeth. She felt like socking him. It was bad enough that the police officer wasn't taking her seriously. She didn't need Joey undermining her at every turn,

  "Do you know how many calls we've received this evening from hysterical parents?" Officer Gordon went on. "If I let everyone through who knew somebody with blond hair and blue eyes, we'd have a mob on our hands. I'm sorry, but you're just going to have to go home and wait for the radio report like everybody else."

  "But Jessica's the one who found the body last week!" Elizabeth insisted.

  "Jessica Wakefield?" Officer Gordon asked, his interest piqued. "The girl whose picture was in the paper?"

  Elizabeth nodded. "I'm Elizabeth Wakefield. Jessica's my sister." She tried to catch her breath, but a sob caught in her throat.

  "Shhh . . . OK, calm down," Officer Gordon said. He looked at her carefully while she brushed away her tears. "You think the murderer might have had a motive to get rid of your sister?"

  Elizabeth could feel her throat constricting as he put her fears into words. She swallowed hard and nodded.

  "OK, come with me," the police officer said, lifting the yellow plastic tape and leading them back through. Elizabeth shot Joey a victorious glance and held her chin high. Joey winced and followed docilely after her.

  But then the gravity of the situation hit Elizabeth again as they walked down the dirt path toward Secca Lake. With each step her panic mounted. This wasn't about proving something to Officer Gordon and Joey. They didn't matter. This was about Jessica—her only sister, her twin. If something happened to Jessica, Elizabeth wouldn't be able to go on. She couldn't live in this world without her other half. Elizabeth clutched the hem of her shirt, her whole body constricted in fear.

  The lights of an ambulance stood blinking in the distance, and paramedics were clustered around a body on a stretcher.

  Elizabeth's heart leaped into her throat. The body was laid out with a sheet thrown over it. "Joey!" she whispered hoarsely, grabbing for him.

  "I'm here, Liz," he said, folding a strong hand around hers. Elizabeth grasped his hand tightly, digging her fingers into his palm.

  "This is Elizabeth Wakefield," Officer Gordon said as they joined the paramedics. "She might be able to identify the body."

  A man nodded and lifted the sheet off the body.

  Elizabeth gasped as the victim came into view. The girl looked ghastly. It was obvious that she had been drained of blood. Her face was so white it was almost blue. Her eyelids were translucent, and her lips were pale and cracked—like two faded petals. The only sign of color was an ugly bluish bite mark that stood out in stark relief on her pallid neck.

  It wasn't Jessica. Relief flooded Elizabeth's mind and body. Despite the girl's ghostly pallor, she resembled someone Elizabeth vaguely knew from Palisades High. Elizabeth tried to place the girl. She thought she had seen her at a basketball game before, but she couldn't remember the girl's name.

  As she looked down at the poor teenage girl, Elizabeth couldn't help shuddering. What if that had been my sister? she thought in horror. She couldn't even bear to imagine the sensations she would have felt. A wave of nausea welled up inside her from just the thought.

  "Elizabeth," Joey said softly by her side.

  Elizabeth put out a shaky hand and touched his arm. "It's not Jessica," she said, her voice trembling with emotion.

  Then, overcome with emotion, she collapsed.

  "I'll take care of her," she heard Joey said. Then she felt herself being lifted into his arms and carried down the path.

  "We can't do this," Jonathan whispered raggedly as he stopped for air.

  "I can," Jessica replied, her blue-green eyes sparkling mischievously in the light of the fire.

  Jonathan pulled away from Jessica and held her at arms length. "I can't do this. I can't get involved with you."

  Jessica crossed her arms across her chest and smiled up at him. "Why? Do I scare you?" she asked. "Are you scared you're going to lose yourself in me?"

  Jonathan nodded and leaned against the mantel. "Yes," he answered, avoiding her gaze. "You scare me."

  Jessica looked up at him with solemn eyes. "I promise I won't make you uncover the furniture. Or turn the stove upright." She danced around the room with her arms spread wide, feeling giddy. "We'll keep the room just the way it is." Dizzy, Jessica collapsed into the armchair. She curled her legs underneath her and gave him a coy smile.

  But Jonathan wasn't laughing. His eyes were dead serious.

  "Hmpf," Jessica pouted, tapping the arm of the chair. "You're spoiling all the fun."

  "I'm sorry," Jonathan said, hanging his head. "But believe me, it's better this way."

  "Why do you keep saying that?" Jessica asked in frustration. "Why are you . . . resisting me? What is your problem?"

  Jonathan's face clouded over. "Jessica, I can't go into it, but just trust me. This can't be."

  "Jonathan, please, tell me what the problem is," she begged him.

  Jonathan shook his head silently for several moments. When he finally spoke, his voice was laden with pain. "Jessica, there are things you don't know about me. To get involved with me would only lead to disaster."

  "Well, I don't think you have the right to make that decision alone," Jessica said, her tone light. She smiled at him, letting the dimple in her left cheek deepen. "I can choose for myself. And I've decided that I'm not afraid to take a risk."

  Jonathan's lips trembled with emotion. "Its not a right. Its a desire."

  Jessica mind clicked rapidly. Maybe Jonathan wasn't afraid of hurting her. Maybe he was afraid of getting hurt himself. At camp the summer before, Jessica had gotten involved with a boy named Paul Mathis. Paul had put up serious resistance to Jessica because he'd been badly hurt by his last girlfriend, and Jessica had had to fight to get him. "Its because of another girl, isn't it?" Jessica guessed, "You've been badly hurt in the past, and you don't trust women anymore."

  But Jonathan shook his head. "No, not exactly. I haven't been the one who got hurt."

  Jessica jumped up. "Then you have a girlfriend somewhere! In Europe! You're engaged!"

  Jonathan shook his head and knelt down in front of the fire, shifting the logs with an iron poker. His ring glinted in the light of the fire, and Jessica looked at it suspiciously. "You're already married! You have an entire family in Europe, and you've left them all behind. You . . . you—" She snapped her fingers, searching for a plausible explanation for his behavior. "You're in some kind of trouble, and you don't want to endanger them. You're . . . you're in the witness protection program, and you have to stay hidden from the bad guys so they don't find your family."

  A smile twitched Jonathan's lips. "You have a very active imagination."

  Jessica put her hands on her hips. "What's her name?" she demanded.

  "Jessica, it has nothing to do with other women. It has to do with me," Jonathan insisted, standing up and leaning the hot poker against the wall.

  Jessica sighed. Why was he being so difficult? She paced across the room, causing the floorboards to creak. Maybe he really was much older than she was. Maybe he wanted a woman his own age. Jessica walked over to the fireplace and looked straight into his eyes. "Is it because you think you're too old for me? Do you think I'm not ready for a mature relationship?" She was standing just inches away from him, and she could feel the heat emanating from his body. It was as though there were a tangible emotional stream between them. Jessica leaned forward, drinking it in.

  Jonathan shook his head quickly and took a step back, breaking the spell. "No, you're . . . uh . . . more mature than most girls I've known." His voice was shaky.

  Jessica stamped her foot. "Then what is it?" she burst out. "Why can't you get involved with me?"