Chapter Six
Lara gave me her address.
She lived in Benedict Canyon, not far from where we were. In no time, I was pulling up to the wrought iron gates of a huge and rundown old mansion on Applegate Lane. I knew the house—every kid who grew up in Beverly Hills knew the house. It had once been the estate of a famous eccentric movie star, Terrence Applegate. This was back in the thirties and forties when the motion picture heart throbs were Humphrey Bogart, James Stewart, and Terrence Applegate.
“Your family bought the old Applegate mansion,” I said.
The gates of the old fortress were usually closed and padlocked, but that night there was no lock. The gates were swung open—an inviting gesture, although I didn’t know anyone who’d take them up on the invite.
“Somehow I feel an insult coming on,” Lara said.
Lara’s family had to be rich. While the house was beat to heck, it sat on a prime piece of Beverly Hills real estate. Location, location, location.
“No, no. The house is famous is all. An old movie star from the old days used to live here.” I lowered my voice. “This house is considered haunted,” I said.
That piqued her interest. “Oh? Tell me more.”
“If you’ll be attending Beverly Hills High in the fall, you’ll hear all about it, ‘cause this old house is crazy famous. Kids come up here every year around Halloween. It’s a bit of a ritual, so you’ll need to get the word out that your family lives here now to keep them away,” I advised. “Legend has it the old actor went crazy in this house. He’d taken a wife fifty years younger than him, and when he caught her cheating, he killed her, and ate her.” I said, making my voice sound ominous, as if I were telling a camp fire ghost story.
“Ate her, did he?”
“Yep. And he got away with it, too. There was nothing left of her. No body, no bones, no evidence of the crime.”
Lara nodded solemnly. “Do you know my name?” she asked.
“Of course I do. Lara.”
“Lara what?”
“Lara Dupree.”
She shook her head. “Aaaaant!” she said, making the sound of a game show buzzer. “Lara Applegate.”
My face began getting hot, stinging with embarrassment. Idiot! “Like I said, it’s… just a dumb old legend. I…I didn’t believe it for a minute.”
“Of course you didn’t,” she said with a smirk. “I guess the day isn’t complete until Joshua Butters has insulted me, huh?”
She reached for the door handle.
“Look, Lara,” I said. I grabbed for her hand.
Just then, something moved in the shadows on the other side of the gate. The thing was quick, bouncing between pools of light, but I got a glimpse of it—a creature, with a hideous face, deformed body, and claws.
Suddenly the music in my head stopped playing, the fog in my mind lifted, and everything that had happened the past two days made perfect sense. It was as if a spell had been broken.
The creature was gone, lost in the shadows before I could get a clear look at it, but I’d seen enough.
I jerked my hand back. “Gotta go,” I said.
“What?”
With my head now clear, the pieces began falling into place: the creature, Lara appearing in the pool, the scratches on Alan’s leg.
“Gotta go, right now, chop-chop.” I reached across her, and pushed open the passenger door. “See ya!”
“And the insults just keep on coming. Have a good life, Joshua Butters,” she said, and hastily climbed out.
I’m sure she would have slammed the car door, but she didn’t get the chance. I beat her to it. I pulled shut the door, made sure it was locked, threw the Camry in gear, and spit gravel as I squealed out of there.
Five o’clock the following morning, Mrs. Felicia Hauser started to scream when she discovered a dead coyote floating in her swimming pool. The coyote hadn’t wandered in and drowned. It had been ravaged by what authorities said was a wild animal that left the dead carcass floating on the surface of the pool. Mrs. Hauser lived three doors down from the Feinmans. Coincidence? Not!